It was a Saturday night. 11:39pm to be exact. What was a young lady like me doing out at such a time like this? I felt like it, just tonight I felt rebellious. I lived in Ireland for about a year now. The transition so far has been smooth. I work for a daycare. Which usually takes up my weekdays but on the weekends I'm a not necessarily a "wild party girl" . It's more of "I want to get out of the house or so help me god!" and tonight was the night. Something big was going to happen I just know. There's a bar downtown in a street alley. Where all the bikers go. I know that doesn't sound like a good idea but hey! Tonight something snapped and I wanted to get drunk. I walk into the bar. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes filled the air. It was brutal. But I was up for it. All the women there, overly exposed their breasts had tattoos up and down their arms. Perhaps I made a bad choice. I go up to the bartender and ask for beer. He handed me a beer and I took a sip. Man that stuff was strong. Minding my own business, a man with crooked teeth, stinky breath and black greasy hair. Grabbed me by the hips.
"What's a fine young lady like you doing here"
I held my breath, trying my best to shove him away. He wouldn't budge. So I did what anyone could best do. Punch him in the face and run. Well that didn't go so well. He snarled and digged his nails in my arm. I screamed. Everyone in bar stopped and stared. Not a word drew from any one's lips. The sound of a empty bottle slamming against the table from all the way back of the bar. The greasy man looked where the noise had came from. That was my time to try to pry out of his grip. I tugged but it was no use. The man looked back at me feeling me attempt to get out of his grip. A tall fairly possibly in his 20's like me walked over. He had a leather jacket, that has seen better days. Green hair on the top and brown hair on the sides. An empty bottle of beer only held by his fingertips. The greasy man looked back at the young Irish man and snarled.
"This one is mine" shaking me a little.
"This one is not yours" The green haired Irish man spoke. He had such a deep and thick Irish accent. It was really hot. What! I'm a girl I can't say I thought it was really hot. Jeez... anyway. The greasy man grinned and looked at me then back at him.
"And what makes you say that?" he snarled louder. There was a short period of silence then Irish boy slammed the empty beer bottle in the greasy dude's head. The man let go of me. I ran out of the bar as the man was bleeding from the glass. About to make it out of the alley. A hand grabbed my arm, pulling me into the darkness. He covered my mouth. Pushing me against the wall. I fought.
"Shhhh..."
It was him. Green hair, bad boyish, hero whatever you want to call him dude.
The man looked back the entrance of the bar.
"Follow me" he whispered, removing his hand over my mouth and grabbing my wrist. I wanted to push back and protest but I knew that wouldn't be smart. I wanted to go back home but another part of me didn't. I felt alive yet anxious. He tugged me through the streets. Stopping then waiting in the shadows, as police cars drove by. His eyes scanning like a hawk yet so sudden and clear. He knew where he was going. I didn't recognize these streets. We suddenly stopped in front of fence. Behind it looked like a rejected building that has seen better days. He glanced over his shoulder and asked
"Do you know how to jump a fence?" then looked back. I examined the fence and how tall it was.
"Ummmm...No....???" baffled by his question.
He gave a small not to pleased nod. He pulled a knife out of his jacket and turned and looked at me. What was he going to do to me?
YOU ARE READING
It was him ( bad boy Jackseptcieye x reader )
Mystery / ThrillerIt was him. I recognized him from my dreams, why was he here? Why now? Why not later? His smile evil but so bitterly sweet. His blue diamond like eyes, the way he looked at me, I know was going to get something I was going to regret. His leather bl...
