Mistletoe (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 1

I receive another punch, my lip already busted and swollen from the last few. I don't know what possesed me to carry this out on my own, but there is no turning back now. Something I've had to learn early after entering this world.

"Are you finished," I question the burly man with horrible burn scars covering the right side of his face. His eyes seem to narrow at me, but their lids are practically sewn together making it almost impossible to be sure.

He grips a fistfull of my hair, it having grown a few inches in the last few months. He leans close, his rancid breath making me want to turn away, but his grip keeps us eyey to eye.

"You're so lucky, Punk," He spits, "The Headmaster's grandson is definitely worth a fortune." He eases his grip on my hair, turning to the freont door of the cabin he and his allies have been using for a hideout.

Two of his partners enter the room, all resembling each other in some way, primarily with the burn scars covering different portions of their flesh.

They step away to what they beleive is out of my hearing range. Poor guys have no idea what I'm capable of.

I home my ears, catching onto their voices quickly.

"So, when are having the pickup," My captor questions, looking over his shoulder at me. "That little shit is starting to piss me off."

I scoff. the trio turns to face me, each wearing that similar scowl of annoyance I've grown use to in the last four hours I've spent in captivity.

"You got something to say?" The one I'd heard be called Rico comes to me, branding a switchblade like a greaser from an old movie, but with much less of a threatening look. "Don't think I won't kill you, Boy."

I smirk, "I don't think it. I know you won't."

"What makes you so sure," He sneers, pressing the tip of the blade against my throat.

"Because, my handa are no longer bound." Before, he has a moment to register my words, I grip his wrist, breaking the bone in a quick flash. I kick his body away from me and he crashes through a small table.

The others make a dash for their weapons. I lift up the chair, throwing it clear across the room. It hits my captor, leaving only one more standing.

"You wanna play, Kid?" I shrug with a smirk still played on my lips.

He charges at me, his fist raised to punch. He throws his fist forward with immense strength, hitting me in the jaw with a lighting impact. I bite through the pain, kicking out my leg into his side, doing very little to him.

He moves in to punch again only for me to catch his fist. I jab at him, busting his crooked nose, my hand searing with pain from the impact. Using my smaller stature, I launch mysely onto his shoulders while he reels from the strike. I bring my elbow down against the side of his neck, causing him to waver. I link my legs around his head, leaning backward with a quickness, pulling his towering body over mine and into the withered cabin ground, splintering the already worn wood.

The front door opens. I prepare to have to fight, but relase a breath of relief instead.

"Maybe you didn't need us as much as we thought." Mike smiles my way, Braxton standing over his shoulder.

"Nice one, Jamie," He says, examining the three unconcious men.

"What took you guys so long," I ask. I step off, finding where they 'hid' my arsenal. I shrug on my leather jacket and gather my quiver and arrows.

"We would've been here earlier, but he got distracted," Mike says, nodding off to his mate. "He really can't get enough of me." Mike snickers, Braxton and I both rolling our eyes.