Girl Gone Bad (18+)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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Morgan's POV

I walked along the sidewalk next to the beach, glancing at the bar right across from it.

I was debating whether I should go in or not. I am only 20, just 1 year off. Plus, there are most likely other young people in there.

I saw another large group enter. "Fuck it." I muttered, crossing the street.

There were plenty of people outside, but inside was packed.

I tried to get through, but it was no use. "Excuse me." I said politely, but no one budged.

"Move!" I snapped, shoving people out of my way. A few glared at me, but others didn't care.

I found an empty booth and sat down, waiting for someone to take my order.

I heard someone clear their throat, and I saw a hispanic man and 3 other boys behind him.

"What?" I asked, looking up at him.

He had dark brown slick back hair, with light brown eyes. Tattoos covered his neck, and his hands.

"You're sitting in my booth, kid." He said. I stared at him with a blank expression on my face, and turned away from him.

I heard him grumble a few choice of words, and he tapped my shoulder.

My short dark brown hair whipped to the side as I snapped my head towards his direction.

"I said, you're seating in my spot." He said, irritated.

"I don't see your name on it. So I suggest you go away, and Leave me alone."

He slammed his palm on the table, leaning in closely. "AND I...suggest, you get up before I make you. Now move." He sneered, His face red in anger.

"Ooooh. Feisty, me likey." I grinned, getting in his face.

"You don't know who you're messing with. You need to watch your back. This is my booth, and my booth only. Now move. And I won't ask you again." He growled.

I rolled my eyes. "Like I'm scared of you. Do you know who you're messing with?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Take her." He snapped his fingers, and the Two of the men behind him grabbed me, dragging me towards the back. The third one led them to the back door, as one covered my mouth tightly.

"Fuck!" I winced as they threw me on the ground, where a few pieces of glass layed.

"I think," He paused, looking around at his friends, "We think, you should be taught a lesson."

"Hey, I dropped out of highschool for a reason. I'm not doing this shit again."

They all rolled their eyes, one coming behind me to hold my arms down.

"Now, this is going to hurt, so try not to scream." He said, taking out a knife.

What. The. Shit.

My eyes widened and I struggled against his grip, trying to free myself.

He stepped closer, and that's when I kicked him in the groin. I pushed my head forwards, then pulled back, my head hitting the other boy's nose. He shouted a few profanities, Holding his nose.

I picked up the knife and threw it across the alley, the clattering noise echoing.

I turned to see the other boy gone, and I tried to turn around, but was tackled on the ground.

He sat right on my back, my stomach aching in pain. I kicked his back, but he wouldn't move.

"You bastard!" I shouted as he held my wrists. The other boy held my ankles in place to prevent me from kicking.

The blond hair boy came back, with the knife in his hands, smirking when he saw my face filled with fear.

I struggled against his hold, my thighs poking the glass each time I moved.

"Now, where would you like to be marked?" He asked, circling me.

Marked? What was he? A Werewolf?

"What do you even mean?" I asked, my voice heavy. 

"Why should I tell you, when I can show you." He smirked.

Before I could understand what was happening, he drove the knife across my shoulder blade.

I screamed. I screamed so loud, I'm surprised no one came out to help me.

I could feel the pain, stinging on my right shoulder.  "You. Asshole." I said in shaky breaths.

He chuckled wiping the blood with a rag that he found on the floor.

The two boys got off of me, leaving me in pain on the floor. He stepped closer to me, leaning down at me level, "Next time when he says move, you move. No questions asked." He whispered in my ear, walking back inside the bar.

I just wanted a good beer. That's it.

*******
I slowly entered the house, being as quiet as possible.

My hair wasn't that much of a mess, but the rest of me was. The top right shoulder of my shirt was soaked with blood, and my knee had been scraped through my jeans and I felt like my toes were being cut off.

I had a cut on my thigh, and my legs, ankles and arms had red hand marks from when they grabbed me.

One side of my underwear was up my ass, and it hurt so bad. TMI, I know.

"Morgan." A deep voice ushered out from the dark. His big blue eyes took my appearance in, and they glistening in the light as he got angry.

"What the fuck, Morgan?" He glares at me, stepping closer.

"Listen. I'm not in the mood to argue right now, as you can see. So let's just talk about this later. Please?" I didn't give him time to answer, quickly and painfully heading up to my room.

Mason's door burst open when he heard my footsteps. His eyes took me in, and his eyes darkened in anger. There was someone in his room, I could tell since he was fucking shirtless. 

"What happened?"

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "I...went out." I internally slapped myself in the face.

Obviously you were out, idiot.

I turned and continued down the hall. "Morgan."

I turned my head and saw his eyes filled with worry. "What happened to you?"

"I told you-"

"No," He paused. "What the hell happened to you?"

I look at him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Before. When things were good. You always came home before 8:00. And you were nice." He sighs.

I look away from him, gripping my jacket. "I don't know what you're talking about." I held back the tears on my eyes.

"You're barely home. I miss you." His voice softens.

"Well you have company." I point to the bare foot hanging off his bed, legs covered with his blanket.

"It's not as good as having my sister around. Everything was good back then-"
I took a deep breath and looked up at him, and answered honestly.

"Leave that in the past. I'm not her anymore."