Her Majesty's Bad Boy

18: THIS IS WHY

Endless trees. Worried, apologetic glances. Gentle readjustment. Muffled voices. Hushed whispers. Quiet, strangled, bitter sobbing.

I wake up with a soft groan, feeling a painful throbbing between my eyes, spreading to the base of my skull.

I feel my head fall forward and my crossed eyes take in a blonde lock falling in front of my face.

My disguise is off, why is my disguise off?

I move to brush the hair away from my face but stop short when I feel material cut into my wrists, restricting movement.

A jolt of panic hits me, followed by several more as the fog in my brain clears, making room for the memories to come flooding in.

Jack, his car, driving, kissing, handkerchief. Darkness.

I begin to struggle against the ropes, burning themselves into my wrist as I take in my surroundings.

I'm on a dirty concrete floor, my hands and feet are bound and I'm facing iron bars. The place I'm in is basically a prison cell, save for a CCTV camera, trained on me.

I'm still in my uniform but my blazer is off, someone had draped it over me like a blanket. Proper inspection shows that I'm being covered by two blazers, not one.

Jack's.

A chocked gasp escapes my lips when I see the man, suddenly on the other side of the bars, scrutinizing me like meat at a butchers shop.

"Let me out" my voice comes out as a weak croak and I clear my throat and try again, "I demand you let me out this instant"

There isn't much improvement but the man smirks, a sinister, nauseating sight to be honest.

"You demand?" he chuckles, "That's real sweet but you're not in the position to be making demands, princess" his voice is cold, hard. It makes me shiver involuntarily.

"What is this?" I ask, "What is your motive?"

He chuckles again and I'm quickly discovering the worst sound in the world.

"My motives are far more complicated than your 'world peace' mindset can understand" he tells me mockingly.

I muster a glare even though my headache is forcing my eyelids to fall shut. "Try me" I whisper.

This time, he's full on laughing, and the sound is even worse, like grinding stones with a cake mixer.

"Wow, there's no way he wouldn't have fallen for you, I almost feel sorry for the kid"

My breathing falters, "He-Jack?" I whisper shakily.

He smirks again, and glances to his right, "Now don't tell me you're shy"

I crane my neck to see farther than I can and I watch as Jack walks out of the shadows to stand beside the man.

I hate myself for the feeling of relief that washes over me when I see him. Like everything is okay.

But it's not okay, I'm sitting, bound on a dirty concrete floor at the mercy of a sinister man and I'm here because Jack put me here.

At first, I can't form words as I stare at his guilt ridden features.

Then I let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh that really isn't me at all, "So this is why?" I ask him, gesturing to my bound legs with my head, "This is why you befriended me and defended me. This is why you kissed me and held me, so I'd fall for you, so I'd trust you" my voice starts shaking, "This is why?"