Looks Can Be Deceiving

C H A P T E R 12

I got sick :( so forgive me, yeah?

*****
Stars shine bright, but your smile shines
Brighter.
*****

  Staring angrily ahead of me, I looked into his stupid green eyes with as much anger and hatred my body could muster. "You asshole!" I seethe in pure rage.

That smug look washed off of his face quickly as he glared at me, "Does that mouth of yours need cleaning?" He asks me as he took a threading step towards me, I quickly took one back. "Semen makes a great soap for the throat."

My eyes narrowed in on him as he looked down at me. Although I was indeed very intimidated by his physical appearance, his word gave a extra boost. With growing rage I weighed out the pros and cons of my life, and surprisingly pros one. Jazzy! My inner self chants as I met his challenging gaze.

Okay so maybe he does have the patience of a mother giving birth and I shouldn't push his buttons. But marriage?! You have got to be shitting me! I thought he would have been dismissed the outrageous idea, but no. He has to go through with everything he says out of that stupid, tempting mouth of his.

With great frustration I looked away from him, "Idiota!"

"That word is not that far from the English vocabulary," William reminds me with a hint of amusement and irritation coating his words. He suddenly look bored with my presence in general as he once again turned away from me. "Thanks to you I actually have to learn the language." He visibly cringes as he sat in his desk chair.

With everything going on, if I could just know where all this came from I probably would be more understanding. But it's all so sudden. Nothing connects with anything, and everything that's going on is just all over the place. And supposably all this stuff links with my mother? Impossible.

Glaring at him as he cooly leaned back in his seat. It was in this exact moment I realized how much I hated this guy. How could he sit back and relax instead of panicking about this stupid plan of his. If it could even be considered a plan. My mind roamed a thousand miles a minute as I thought of an escape route. After I find Jazzy, somehow, we will head off to Rome somewhere.

Rome is the perfect escape.

A low chuckle like sound came from the direction of Satan's cousin. "Rome is the stupidest escape plan you could ever come up with." Just then his voice crack with a hint of that stupid, sexy, deep italian accent I thought I imagined before. How can he cover up such a thick accent?

"You'd be caught and tortured by Italian mobsters before they send you back to your husband here in America." His word rung in my head like a song on repeat. Specifically "Husband" and "Tortured".

The words went together so perfectly, because what I've learned in this short period of being here, at this house, is that nothing happens without the permission of the man sitting comfortably behind his desk. He would have me torture if I ran away? What the hell is wrong with him?

Flipping him a long overdue bird, I turned on my heels - like I seen him do every time he sees  me opening my mouth to converse with him. Much to my annoyance I didn't calculate how close the arm chair was and ended up falling into it. Of course gravity worked against me and both me and the chair went falling. With much force the chair smacked the floor as well as my face.

My nose took the most impact as it cried out in pain seconds later. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!" With a weak push and a loud groan, I rolled over. Clutching my nose as it began to ooze with the thick red substance.

The sound of a chair spinning filled my ears as I laid sprawled out on the floor. To hurt to feel any type of embarrassment. William, being the dickhead he is, helped the chair up and simply stood looking down at me. He looked far from please as his eyes traveled to my now bloodied nose.