Chapter Fifteen

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"Would you just chill out?" I hear his words as he pushes me off of him and then he pins me to the wall this time. "What happened in there...you must not let anyone know. Not the cops....you can't go back home."

I stare furiously at the boy covered in scars. Hours before this I thought he was fine. I thought what happened to him was just a simple family thing and it went out of hand. But he owes someone..multiple people.. whoever they are..eight thousand dollars.

I push him away and start to run my hands in my hair then to my face. I don't know why I am hyperventilating but I am. I see Elijah look at me and roll his eyes.

He leans his body back to the wall and crosses his arms, "are you done yet? Chill the fuck out." His voice is slurred and small as in a whisper.

"No I will not calm down!" I yell and throw my hands up in the air. This guy can't possibly think what happened was okay. I don't know where we are and what we will do but for God's sake this man needs to say something.

Elijah's expression is all as he leans up against the wall,"Look I know it is a lot to process but listen to me. It should be okay."

"Should be?"

He corrects himself as he pushes me aside, "listen sweetheart. We .ca. do it."

I stand far away from him and cross my arms against my chest. What makes him think I will do anything with him?

This guy is getting harder and harder to cope with, I have no clue why I am stuck with this.

I shake my head and look at the ground, "what have you done?"

I hear a sigh from the lad and he crosses his arms too, "I told you I do fucked up things. And what did you say? What did you do? You wanted to stay. You wanted me."

"That's before-"

"Before what?"

"Before I knew what I got me into! I mean for God's sake I don't even know where we are!"

"Paris."

"Paris? Like Paris Maine?"

"No," he shakes his head and then utters another sigh, "France."

"France? How in the hell did we-"

"You've been out for much longer than you think, darling," he says and then smirks a litttle, "shit it feels like you have been out for a month."

"A month? Fuck Eli!"

He laughs and then uncrosses his arms, "relax it's probably only been a week or so."

Can you believe this guy? Because I know I can't.

"A week?" I yell over the traffic again. Who knew that there would be traffic this hour. It could be 2am or 8pm no matter what this place is crowded. Now that I know where we are it makes sense that is. "How did we get here? Why did we get kidnapped together? Tell me."

I wanted him to tell me. Repeat those words to him. Tell me. Tell me! TELL ME! Tell me the why's, tell me the how's, tell me the where's to the why's....Becshdr none of this makes sense to me. None of this makes sense. Why would he lie to me about this kind of stuff? He told me that it was family buinsess... yet where in the hell is his family?

"What do you want to know?" He sits down in the alleyway and stares up at me like some kindergartener saying...I'm ready

I don't sit next to him but instead sigh, "get up. The ground is gross. I ain't sitting with you, okay."

He catches ahold my arm and brings me down to him. His eyes seem to be glossy and his hands are cold, "I will tell you what you want as long as it isn't something I can't say."

"What can't you say?" I question him and then put my legs between his legs so we are facing each other. I need for him to focus on me. For all I know, this month might not end well and my life could be done. I won't be able to do the little things I want to do. Graduation. Getting of the small town and actually going to the big city. Doing what I love. Living my dreams. Find love....

"Well let's start off with something I can tell you. You we're wondering how we got to where we are. We got here by plane. Yours was first and mine was followed.

"These people," I pause as I put my hands to my knees and furrow my eyebrows, "are they rich or something?"

He laughs and then he looks at one of the buildings we are between, "what do you mean? Sometimes it's not what you have, it's the people who you are caught up with. These people could be poor as fuck but know someone rich. The  dealer could be rich."

"Do you know the guy that owns the plane? The guy who took us?"

"Hard to say."

"Hard to say?" I snap and then put my knees together toward my chest, "what the hell does that mean?"

"There are a lot of connections sweetheart."

"Stop  calling me that."

"You liked it a week ago!" He yells at me in frustration and then looks at me. Those glossy eyes. Why are they like that? Those aren't like the tired glossy. Those are the I have been crying glossy.

"That's when I thought what you were doing was harmless."

He looks down and he does the same position as I. When he looks at me, he notes his lip sideways and murmurs, "I'm sorry you thought that."

"Everyone that doesn't like you or has something bad to say. They do it because you have somehow screwed them over."

"I have a bad reputation. It is through family. My family isn't who you think they are. They aren't Stevenson's."

"What are their last names?'

He swallows hard and I can tell it is something he doesn't want answer.

"Okay," I sigh l, "how did we fully end up here? What and why were you what you were doing? What made me get caught up in all of this? How do  you owe someone eight thousand dollars?"

He gets up and brings me with him, "we can't stay any longer if you want to everything."

He grabs my hand and pulls me with him to the opening of the alleyway. He looks both ways thrn starts at the other end again but slower this time. It's like he is observing every inch of this block and then the next one over. He grabs my hand tighter and makes me walk left, "this way."

He pulls me harder and faster as we make our way down the block, "there is a small place where we can sleep. A much safer place."

He talks low and fast as we make our way down different alleyways. When we stay in one he looks around again, "my family made me do this job that I didn't do because I was with you. Now somehow I am stuck with ya until we either do the job again or do little jobs."

Out of all the things this guy has said. This is by far the most bizarre thing.

Colors of Paris ◇ Elijah Stevenson Where stories live. Discover now