Saved by the Bad Boy

Chapter 8

I the morning I wake up and Einar is already up and brushing his hair. He wears tight black jeans and a denim jacket. I lay back down on my pillow closing my eyes, not wanting to wake up to this nightmare. But he kicks my foot.

"Come on, it's 7, you need to get up." I groan and sit up. I rub my eyes and blush under his gaze. 

"Can you not watch me?" I growl. He chuckles.

"Since we're married now I can do whatever I want." I glare at him and his brown eyes dance while watching me. I stand up and stretch. I go to my drawer where I put all of my clothes and pick a short dress-because that's literally the only things they gave me-that's pink and backless with a halter and one strap across the back. I turn to Einar and make a turning motion with my finger. He rolls his eyes back turns around. I slip the dress on and turn around in the full sized mirror. I fix my hair and brush through it quickly. 

"Come on, you look fine, now let's go." I bite my lip, feeling the sting from his words and turn to him. We walk out the door and he locks it behind us. 

"Where are we going?"

"Breakfast." He answers coldly. I only nod and I follow him to our retail car. But I see two guys in casual clothes watching us, under their jackets are two guns. But they aren't regular guns.

"Human tranquilizers." Einar leans over and whispers in my ear.

"What?" I say turning to him. 

"They are to knock us out if we get any ideas." They're part of D.E.A.D. I bite my lip and try to ignore them as we drive away. We drive for about 10 minutes to a small breakfast dinner. We sit across each other and I fold my arms.

"So, what do you two cuties want to eat?" I raise my eyebrows and Einar looks shocked. I sigh.

"Cali?" I look at him surprised. He called me by my nickname, "What do you want?" I sigh.

"I'll just have a piece of toast with peanut butter." She gives me a strange look and Einar sighs.

"I'll do two pancakes no sides." She nods jotting it down and leaves to get our food. I lean back and look out the window. People walk together, couples holding hands, talking laughing, smiling and in love. I wonder what it's like, love. I guess I'll never know.

"Hey, are you okay?" He watches me. I turn back to look at him.

"Since when did you care?" I snarl, scowling at him. Concern crosses his face. 

"Since you stopped eating." I shrug and look out the window.

"I'm just homesick and tired," I mumble, another excuse. He sighs. And we stay in an awkward silence for a few minutes until she comes back with our orders. Einar thanks her and starts to eat. I pick at my toast, not being able to stomach it, I take small little bites until he's done. 

"Are you going to eat?" I shrug, "Stop shrugging and just eat."

"I can't, I'm not feeling well." He shakes his head at me and continues to eat. Once he's done he asks for the check and we leave. He gives me strange looks all the way back to our hotel room and when we get there he lays on the bed and turns on the TV.

"I'm going to go for a walk," I announce and he shrugs.

"Sure okay." I open the door that leads onto the balcony and down to the beach. I smile in the sunlight and walk onto the concrete then walk down the few steps to the beach. My bare feet step softly on the sand and I walk down to where the ocean meets the sand. The cold water brushes my feet and I smile, feeling peaceful. The sound of the waves is peaceful and I sigh. I wonder if I'll ever hear the sound of the waves again. Or the sand under my feet. I feel a longing to go home, to see my family, I just want to feel my mother's arms around me telling me this is all a dream. I wish I never got these powers. I wish I died like I was supposed to when I was in that lab. I walk along the beach hugging myself. I look across the ocean and don't realize how long I've been out here until the sun is high in the sun is high and I look at our room. I slowly walk up the path and open the door. I look around and find that he's in the shower. I shut the door, and keep my head turned away from the bathroom. And see a notebook on the bed. Quietly I reach over and grab it. I flip open to the first page. There's a drawing of a flower I turn the pages there are pictures of nature and animals. But I turn the next page to see me, with ice coming from my hands, my face horrified, the day before I was kidnapped. Then I see my glare, arms folded across my chest. Then on the next page, I see myself on my pillow, tears streaming down my cheeks. Then I see me at the wedding, beautiful in my dress.  I'm staring out the window at the cafe. And the last one that is only half-finished, and it's me sitting on the beach, face relaxed and the ocean touching my toes. They're all so life-like. I never knew he was an artist. I hear the shower turn off and I quickly put it back how I found it and sit on the floor and lean against the bed the bed and turn on the TV. I wonder why I've never seen him draw before. And why does he have so many pictures of me in it? I think there's a lot more to him than I've seen. What would he keep this talent hidden? He could become a great artist, these could be sold for millions some day.