Holding Him Hostage

Ch.4: Big-Mouthed Bitch

Divina's P.O.V

He looks like he hasn't slept. The bags that are under his eyes say it all.

He is staring at the wall in front of him as if he has been staring at it for hours, but his thoughts are somewhere else while his body doesn't move an inch, he doesn't even notice me come in.

His eyes are dark, his skin's a little paler than it should be, his hair is tousled and messy and he was covered in dried up blood.

"It looks like you're having a blast here." I say with a sly smile. My voice snaps him out of his seemingly endless chain of thoughts, he slightly jumps up and then locks eyes with me.

"I'm sure you would be having a blast when I tie a rope around your neck and leave you to suffocate and die." He says with a sneer, hatred filling his eyes making them become even darker.

"Maybe." I say shrugging and he goes back to staring at the wall, not before sending me a murderous glare. I stay silent for a while, then I add,

"Guess what surprise I have for you today?" I ask, tightening my grip on the gun behind me.

He looks me in the face, his eyes flicker to my arm that is hidden behind me, then back again at my face.

"Another weird weapon of yours?" He asks with a straight face.

"Weapon, yes. Weird, no." I state, feigning hurt when I say 'no' while stepping closer to his chair.

I notice how he's become braver than before, which is weird since he was a complete chicken yesterday.

This sudden change made the gun not the right weapon for him.

Oh well.

I pull up the gun beside my head pointing upwards and let a wide smile take over my lips.

"What do you think of this beauty?" I say while I slide my fingers across the top of the golden gun.

He scoffs,
"I thought you said you're going to torture me, is this is how you are gonna torture me? With a gun?" He asks looking at me as if I've gone mad.

"If you had to choose between me killing you now," I say as I place the muzzle of the gun on his forehead. "or me torturing you. Which would you choose?"

He looks at me in the eyes and, without any second thoughts, says,

"Kill me now."

"No," I say with a smirk "not yet."
I raise the gun upwards then I slam it on the top of his head knocking him unconscious, his head tilting downwards.

I let out a breath. I need a way to torture him but I don't have any idea what to do. After all, I've never done anything like this, I've always killed people not kept them as hostages.

I take hold of his chin and tilt his head upwards, exposing every detail of his face.

He looks tired and sad, his face is swollen, and he's only been here for a day. One day and I'm already feeling sorry for him.

He's the reason your parents died, Divina, never forget that.

I don't know though.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Kevin's P.O.V

My eyes flutter open but I quickly shut them close as I feel a sharp pain in my head where she hit me, the pain only increases. I start grunting.

"Oh, look who's finally awake." Her grating voice makes me open my eyes.

I notice that I'm still tied to the chair but the difference is that we're in the kitchen instead of the basement.

She had her hand inside a cupboard but then pulls a pan out of it.

"Why are we in the kitchen?" I ask in an annoyed tone, furrowing my eyebrows and squinting my eyes.

She looks downwards as if she didn't want me to ask that question but then plays it off by rolling her eyes.

"Let's say, change is good." She says with a fake smile.

I glare at her. Why doesn't she just let me go already? Whatever idea she's got of 'torturing' me isn't working.

She carefully places the pan on the hob that was right in front of me.

"From where do you get your food and drink?" I ask curiously, I couldn't resist.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern." She says, not even looking at me which is irritating.

"Really. Well, I know what's of my concern." I state purely pissed off.

"Why would you not let me go already?" I ask firmly.

"Because I enjoy watching you suffer." She says, looking me in the eyes and smiling which makes me wonder if she's actually sane.

She turns on the fire below the pan and goes to the refrigerator obviously wanting to get butter.

"I think you're too butt-hurt about your parents' death." I say rolling my eyes.

She stops in her track, tenses and clutches her fists. Then, she slowly turns around and she visibly tries to calm herself down.

After letting out a shaken breath, she stiffly says,

"Nobody asked for your opinion."

"No seriously, you're parents are dead and they're not coming back. Stop acting like if you killed every member of the gang, you'd be able to revive them." I spit out in a mocking tone.

Her face is as red as blood and her whole body was shaking by now but I continue anyway.

"Besides, your parents were nothing but a pain in the ass for years. All of you as a family are bound to get killed by us anyway."

Suddenly, she growls loudly, snatches the heated pan and inhumanely slams it onto my chest.

I hiss in pain as the heat of the pan burns my flesh and I start to move trying to get her away from me but I failed miserably.

She adds as much pressure as she can onto my chest using the pan as if she wants to squeeze the life out of me.

The heat radiating off of the pan makes me feel like my skin's melting.

She finally removes the pan and I let out a shaken breath of relief and try to hide the fact that I'm in absolute pain.

But the relief didn't last long as she surprises me by slapping me across the face using the heated pan.

She slaps me so hard that I feel my brain move in my head and I fall to the side with the chair still tied to me.

I grunt lowly, still trying to hide the extreme physical pain that I feel.

Then I taste something metallic in my mouth and realize that my mouth is bleeding.

I look up at her and see the look of regression written all over her face as she takes in what she did to me.

But that look didn't last long as she quickly replaces it with a glare turning away towards the fridge again after throwing the pan back on the hob.

She grabs the butter and two eggs from the fridge, then turns around to face me and says,

"This is what you get for being a big-mouthed bitch." She sends me a look that could kill then heads towards the stove.

I kept watching her as she makes her breakfast. I observe how she looks when she's focused on something.

She keeps biting her lower lip and moving around the kitchen like an expert, her little sparkly brown eyes never moving away from the pan as she flips the omelette perfectly.

It's so warm in the kitchen that my eyes become droopy and my eyelids feel so heavy.

~~~~~~~~~~⊙~~~~~~~~~~

The ending may not be a cliff-hanger but this chapter was originally way too long so I decided to divide it into two chapters instead of one but I guess this ending will do.

Don't forget to comment your feedback and thoughts, ily xx- R