Megan's POV
"Fun eh?" I asked uncertainly.
"Yup." He said turning around to fetch something.
I slowly reached for the tazor resting in my boot.
Before I could get it, he turned back and handed me white bands of fabric.
What the f*ck?
I looked at him, completely confused.
"Don't get me wrong, Foxy." He winked. "You're a pretty girl, but you're not prettier than girls I've seen."
His comment was nonchalant, truthful even, but it still stung.
"No Megan, I value you as a gangleader."
Okay seriously where the hell is this going?
"Look at it this way, you, a girl, managed to run a gang, outsmart me- and never will that happen again might I add - and you've survived in a world where the main saying is 'killed or be killed'."
"And...?" I tried to see what see was getting to.
"And Megan, I want something."
"What do you want?"
"A fight." He stated calmly. "Now wrap your hands up." He handed me the bandages. "I'll have someone escort you to the training room."
He turned on his heels and exited. No sooner had he left the room, a girl walked in.
She has big voluminous blonde curls, grey eyes and a butt bigger than Nicki Minaj.
I am not even kidding.
She was wearing a white blouse that exposed too much black lace and a miniskirt that was too mini.
Overall, she looked like a cheap hooker.
"This way." She directed.
Two words through and already her voice annoys me.
"You know, I've never seen the boss take care of his girls this way before. You lucky b*tch!" She cackled while swatting my arm with a perfectly manicured hand.
I grimaced.
I don't want to know. I chanted. I do not want to know.
"I'm not one of his... girls." I said distastefully.
"Oh yes you are. You're just one with a better fate." She smiled, showcasing her pearly whites.
It sounds like she's selling something.
"You should be a telemarketer." I blurted out.
"A what?"
"Someone who sells stuff."
"Oh." She said brightly, then her face contorted in thought. "But I do sell stuff."
I don't want to know.
I don't want to know.
I don't want to-
"Here we are!" She chirped, shoving me into a room. "Have fun!"
The last thing I heard was the clinking of her bangles before I was left in a large and empty training room.
"Ah welcome Foxy."
Empty except for the guy who wants to kill me and everyone that I love.
"Don't you hate me?" I inquired skeptically.
"Well you see, when one's tongue is down another's throat, the first thought that comes to mind isn't hate. Believe it or not." He smirked.
I'm confused, scared and really skeptical about this situation.
Seriously, what is going on?
YOU ARE READING
Love incognito *unedited*
Roman pour AdolescentsTO BE EDITED ***Jale is a guy. Jale's POV When I was a kid, all the other boys would make fun of my name. They would tease me and say "Jale will go to jail." It didn't bother me much because I eventually got used to it. They used to laugh at...
