He's No Good | ✓

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

My head whips up, and see Adam standing by the front of the entrance of his room.

My eyes widen, and my hold on the file looses slightly, but I tighten my hold on it before it can fall down.

Matching his glare, I close the file, and stand up, clenching it against my chest.

"What are you doing, Emma?" He asks, his voice lowering in a way I've never heard before.

Even though I have no idea what he's capable of, I'm not scared of him.

Which is why, no filter was present when I spoke to him. "What am I doing? Why the fuck do you have a shit ton of information about me in your bedroom?" I shout, lifting up the file in evidence.

Adam's glare hardens, but he doesn't say anything.

I raise my eyebrows when I don't get an answer. Deciding enough is enough, I begin walking toward the exit, but freeze when Adam suddenly moves, stepping closer inside, and shutting and locking the door.

I step back at the sudden closeness.

His glare is still plastered on his face, and I rest a hand on my hip as I hold the file in the other. "If you're trying to make me feel threatened, you're failing. I'm not scared of you, Adam."

I look up, and purse my lips as if I'm thinking. "And considering you know all of this," I lift up the file again, "I'm also assuming you know I'm a witch."

Adam stares at me blankly, so I continue. "I will fucking shoot you out of my way, Adam," I ground out, and I finally get a reaction from him.

A laugh.

What?

"Try me, Sunshine," he tests, smirking.

Raising my eyebrows, I tilt my head to the side. Without lifting my hand, the three drawers that were part of the desk flies out, and aims for Adam.

But before it reaches it's destination, Adam raises his right hand, freezing it in the air.

My eyes widened.

Suddenly, the drawers fall down on his carpeted floor with a thud, which spills all the contents onto the carpet.

Following that, behind me, a louder sound erupts. I discreetly look behind me to see his desk in pieces.

I look back to him with my breathing accelerated.

Unamused by my expression, he moves down to pick up the three drawers and throws them onto his unmade bed.

He rises soon after, towering over my 5'6 frame.

He inspects every inch of my face, and I lose my shocked expression, and switch it with a blank one.

He throws his head back, as if he's asking God why this is happening to him.

After he's done with his little prayer, he looks over my shoulder and side steps around me.

I spin around and find him looking outside, as if someone is watching us.

Once he's satisfied, he moves back and shuts his blinds.

"Sit on the bed, Emma," he asks—no, demands.

I raise my eyebrows, staying stubborn. He groans, and rubs his hand over his face in frustration.

"Please," he whispers, and I take a deep breath.

Whatever, I wanted to sit anyways.

I hold the file tightly, and move around him to sit by the edge of the bed, close to the door.