Kidnapping the Gang Leader

6 - More Pranks and an Awkward Mornings

I slept in a different room that night. I found a guest room without Damien's help, and curled into myself on top of the king bed. It was by far the best bed I had ever slept on, and would probably be the best for the rest of my life. My heart hurt, and I scolded myself when I woke up from the alarm next to me.

Feelings are bad. Feelings get you killed.

I made my way down stairs as the sun began to rise, making my way to the fancy coffee pot in the corner. The smell immediately filled the air when I started it, my eyes closing at the pleasure from it.

"You started the coffee." It came out more of a statement, my eyes snapping open to meet the dark ones from Charles. He didn't sneer at me, but his gaze was still cold and distant. I grit my teeth before nodding curtly, opening and shutting a million cabinets before finding the mugs.

I filled me a cup and sat down, watching the sun through a small window before me. "What day is today?"

"Tuesday." I looked back up to him fast, my eyes wide open.

"How long was I passed out for!?" He huffed while pouring himself a cup, moving to sit before me.

"Two days, but you were perfectly fine." I rolled my eyes as I took another sip, my ears perking at the slightest noise above us.

"Yeah, a concussion is perfectly fine." I grumbled, watching as his jaw locked.

"Really? You think a concussions bad?" He shot up, his chair shooting back behind him. "Damien had just gotten shot, and all you can care about is your own fucking concussion?!"

I shot up not far behind him, heat rising to my face as fury flared through me. I was mad, correction, I was pissed. "Considering I'm the one that took the bullet from your precious gang leader, and am now currently being held here against my will, you're damn right I care about my concussion! I don't know where your parents are, or where anyone's parents are, but I am all my mother has, so I apologize for worrying about my own god damn health!"

He looked stunned as I shouted, not even uttering a word back to me. I spun on my heal and tore out of the room, passing the open mouth stares of Joey and Jake, with Damien himself not far behind them on the stairs. I ran up and went into the room I slept in, opening the bathroom and turning the shower on.

I was so mad I wanted to cry. I wanted to break down and let tears I hadn't released in so long fall and punch the mirror thousands and thousands of times. Fury rolled through me like water, overpowering my senses until I finally shot my arm out and punched the mirror right in front of me.

It shattered, blood rolling off my knuckles as glass poured onto the ground. I looked into all those shards, my dark brown eyes hiding away the secrets from my past. The hidden tattoos under my clothing reminding me of just how much I hide. It's pathetic really.

But I just take my shower, out my clothes on, and suck it up.

***

To say I spoke much with the guys during the day would be a lie. I avoided them like the plague, but it was lunch time, and I haven't pulled a prank in a while. But the real question is, what am I going to do?

Razor blades in their muffins? Snakes in their back packs?

Okay, maybe those are a bit too extreme.

I decided to leave for lunch early, escaping the goonies that Damien practically had stalking me by going to the bathroom with 'girl issues.'