Bad Kitty

Chapter# 7

A/N: Heyyo, peeps! I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter but I hope you guys like it. And I will try to update as soon as possible but don't worry, I will not leave you hanging for an update for too long. The most late update would be at a month's gap, I swear. On other hand, Enjoy and do tell me your opinions through comments and votes! 

This chapter is dedicated to ItalyJackson, a good friend of mine who has recently joined wattpad and is still trying to figure it out, do give her stories a chance because she is an awesome writer! She is the person who actually introduced me to the world of online stories! 

That's all for now, folks! Peaceout and Moustaches!

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Archer comes back after a few minutes, carrying a white bag, some painkillers and a glass of water, balancing them all in his hands. I stare at his messy hair, his askew glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his strong jawline and full lips. If he tried a little bit, He could easily be an even more drool worthy guy.

Wait….even more….fuck, I think I took a hit to the head too many times.

“Oye!” Archer’s voice breaks through my thoughts and I look up at his annoyed face mirroring mine.

“Don’t ‘oye’ me, pretty boy.” I spit out, snatching the medicine bag from him and then proceeding to take the painkillers and washing them down with the water before reaching into my pocket to take out a wad of cash I successfully got off the cunt that fought me. “Here is some money for babysitting Ian and getting me off the front yard.”

I croak out handing him some of the money. His face freezes in astonishment, confusion and lots of other emotions before his expression hardens and he pushes away the money.

“I don’t need your black money.” He hisses out, grabbing the medicine bag from my hand and slumping into the seat beside me. I raise an eyebrow in amusement as he rummages through the bag. “Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me.” I say with mock horror, smirking at his blushing cheeks.

“You have blood all over your shirt, and I need to check how hurt you are in that area considering you don’t plan to go to the hospital anytime soon.” Archer explains yet his cheeks darken further emitting a chuckle out of me.

Taking hold of the hem of my shirt, I strip it off, groaning at the pain that shoots through my body. By this time, Archer’s cheeks are doing a good imitation of tomatoes and he refuses to look me in the eye as he surveys my stomach, his eyebrows furrowing at the bruises and not travelling above from them.

How chivalrous!

“Some of these look old….” He trails off but I ignore his statement, not willing to explain my life to him. He doesn’t push any answers out of me and treats my bruises, not once looking up at me.

“You haven’t ever seen a girl topless, have you?” I question, making him blush once more. I repeat my question when he doesn’t answer.

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. What’s it to you?” He replies coldly with a hint of nervousness in it.

“Nothing nothing.” I say, nonchalantly, raising my hands in a surrendering gesture yet I am elated by his answer. “Just asking.”

I pull on my shirt once he is done applying some sort of cream on the contusions. He mutters some incoherent phrases before taking out an antiseptic wipe and dabbing it lightly on one of the cuts decorating my arm making me hiss in pain. I tear out my arm from his grip as he brings the damned thing near me once more.