~Book 1 of The Insanity Trilogy~
Adam Rodriguez
Is someone you would NEVER say is the pillar of his community. They would probably say "That Adam Rodriguez is one selfish son of a bitch."
"That Adam Rodriguez is a di...
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The wind was slapping against my pale cheeks as I kept running on top of these old ghetto house rooftops. The squeaking of the roofs echoed as our combat boots thudded against them. Some of the shudders even fell as we both ran over them. I was trying to get the pounding of my own heart beat off of my mind, as I looked up at the clouds above thinking of them being the bluest I've ever seen...wait...no it wasn't. I looked over at Liam and his beaming orbs were already on me and his stunning smile. I already knew right then and there his eyes will ever be the only blue I will ever see as bright.
I glanced behind me to catch even a sliver of the agents that were chasing us. My heart automatically picked up speed as my breath deepened while my eyes dilated to spotting the threat that could rip everything that I cared about away from me....
~The Institution~
3 Years Earlier...
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Who the fuck thought it was good idea to sign me up for that wack ass school?! I looked down at the letter again and the Dean's name stood out to me for some reason. I think I've heard of Spencer Reid somewhere but I couldn't pinpoint it. The stench of this old house made my eyes water and I throw the letter in frustration and I could feel my body start to shake, rumbling with rage as my breath became a lot deeper. I could feel the temperature rising in the quiet secluded room.
My fucking foster father didn't take care of his responsibilities again. I closed my eyes shut and balled my hands into fists and as I tried to calmly calm my own fucking self down. As I did the breathe in and breathe out bullshit my real father taught me, I slowly was beginning to feel the room go back to regular temperature. I can't very well burn down the only home I've accustomed to can I? Well not today. Not until that fuckhead actually gets his real kids taken away from him and then I'll light this bitch up.
The burgundy wallpaper seam to come undone under the ruff conditions of this ghetto and horrible smell, it was like it was wilting away from it. I turned in the living room staring at the brown ripped cushions holding the last of my restraints to not go in the purple room to help little ole' Cindy. I'm not a fucking hero. I don't have to go in there and help that girl. THAT'S NOT ME. Damn it! I ran to the purple room and busted through the door not bothering knocking knowing it wasn't needed. It was never needed. Red plastered hair was in a puddle ring of vomit attached to a pale, unmoving body that was laying face down on an old moldy thrift sheets from an old crackhead. Irony I think not.
