Where Secrets Lie *Edited*

Chapter 1

The worn book rests gently against my folded legs. Black, printed letters flow off the page and create a new adventure every time another line is read. Scenario after scenario arises from the depths of nothingness but somehow make sense is a way that-.

A loud ding from the from of the bar snaps me from my imagination and stains the happy image of forever. Dean and one of his goons enter into the dusky area and plop their bodies onto the sleek booth seats.

Damn, why can I not have one day without them coming in here? I just want one day.

Dean and his groupies tend to come here often. Most of the time they leave me alone, but there are always those times when their testosterone levels fly sky high. Never have they done anything physical but they sure know how to verbally assault a woman.

Reluctantly I set down the old book onto the brown bar top and make my way over to the older men.

"What can I get you?"

"Two beers, honey," Dean replies with a wave of his sausage hand.

My eyes roll on their own accord as I make my way to the back of the bar and prepare their drinks.

Douche. Don't wave that sausage hand at me, big ol' asshat.

With a heavy sigh I return to the men and try my hardest not to spill the alcoholic substance onto them. After setting the drinks down the only thought I have is of returning to my imagination until closing, and only then am I allowed to return to the lonely house where I reside.

"Hey, baby! Swing those hips some more. I have no problem with taking you right here."

These very comments coming from that dirty mouth is the exact reason why no girl lasts very long at this job. Snide and crude remarks are often made by the fellow males here, but I try my very best to ignore it.

With that being said I hurriedly spin towards the bar until a swift smack lands right on my ass.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

With slight pain in my rear I turn towards the filthy scum known as Dean.

"Do not touch me," my attempt to strike fear into him failed.

"Oh please, don't act like you don't want this," Dean gestures to himself while his groupie calls out in agreement.

"Oh please, honey, I would rather die."

I begin to make my way back to the bar once again but I suddenly get yanked back by a rough scratchy hand. Without a second thought I swing my balled fist and slam it straight into my captors nose. A sickening crack silences everything.

"Fuck! My nose!"

In that moment I take notice of three things: one, Dean is standing, two, he is also pissed off, and three, blood is dripping onto the once clean floor.

I literally just cleaned this floor. You dick, now I have to clean it again.

I muster up all of the courage I can, which is very little after seeing the pissed off expression on his face, and try to sound frightening.

"Do not touch me again."

On my tired attempt to return to the bar I am stopped once again by a bloody hand grabbing my upper arm and a stinging pain on the side of my face.

This rude ass just punched me. The fucking nerve of this guy.

With a sturdy stance I bring my arm to the back of his neck and slam his face onto my quickly raised knee. Another revolting crack resonates through the tiny bar. Deans body drops to the floor along with a cry of pain, but his friend decides it's his turn.

I begin to back up from the large man until my back is pressed against the gold lining of the bar top, but the friend is still advancing. Reaching over the counter for a bottle of vodka, I swing the bottle up once hes close enough and crash it upon his balding head. The mans body drops to the floor just as another ding from the door sounds.

Shit. People are going to see this mess.

Before I can look at who entered I notice that Dean is getting up with his hand covering his nose, kudos to me, and eyes his friend.

"Take your friend and leave." 

Dean grips his friend but the collar of his shirt and they both exit the now dirty bar.

I now have a fucking mess to clean up...thanks asshole. What else do I need to do? Hmm...oh shit the person at the door!

Slowly I look to the person standing in front of the closed door. A tall man stands there dressed in a dark blue suit. His hair is laid back with slight volume and glasses perched delicately on his nose. The sharp jawline sets perfectly with his, well, perfect face.

Damn, he's hot.

"I, uh, uhm...s-sorry about the mess," I choked out.

What the hell? Why did I just stutter?

"No need to apologize, but I would like to offer you something," he replied with a deep, thick London accent.

"Oh yeah, and what would that be?"

"The offer of a lifetime."

~~~~

Ayoooooo I have finished the first chapter!!!! I just watched the second Kingsman today so most definitely expect a sequel after I finish this one! 

Anyway I hope you all enjoyed this much better version of the first book I wrote. Please don't forget to vote and have an amazing day!!