Crashed Into a Gangster

11

Victoria

Darkness is all I gain sight of before my eyes jolt open. I sit up in bed, my body hot as I pull the covers off me. I kick my feet around the edge and hop off, running a hand through my hair as I go into my bathroom. I stand in front of the sink, remembering Jack's sleeping pills behind the mirror - I open up the cabinet to take two pills into my hand - before I walk downstairs for a glass of water.

I can't sleep, I don't know why. I need to - I have to work in about six more hours, and all I can gather is drowsiness.

Ever since I told him that I'm still in, and still up for working for him, a feeling in my gut that I can't quite shake twists my stomach. Is it bad? Is he capable of... hurting me...?

I think back to the first day I saw him; just past the train tracks that I was so anxious to drive over. I think of the damage I've done to his car - what started this all. I remember the golden gun he pressed up against my stomach.
Maybe he is capable...

I suck in a tired breath, ridding my angst thoughts. I grab a clear glass from the cabinet and get cold water from the kitchen sink. With the two sleeping pills in one hand, I toss them at once into my mouth, following after I drink from the glass in the other. I lick my lips, placing the half filled glass into the sink. Before I can rest, clearly, I need to think. I need to recall and process everything that happened yesterday; from the unexpected company of Rio, to the talk I had with my sister about Jack. Maybe, just maybe I can put together something, or anything, to figure out where Rio is - I need to speak to him. I can't neglect this instinct to not work for Rio. I can't.

Before I know it I'm at my front door, already twisting the doorknob to step outside for air and to revisit my train of thought. My feet step out onto the cold cemented porch. I shiver, folding my arms across my chest. The thick pajama pants will do well enough from the light, chilling breeze. I pull the end of my sleeves over my fist for more warmth, taking a seat on the frigid porch step.

I can't help but for it to cross my mind again - I need to speak to him. Maybe I was angry at Jack, maybe when my he crawled into my head I didn't showcase the anger, for it was too deep inside. I gave Rio a yes, something I shouldn't have done. And why can't he leave my mind?

At this point, I want to scream; let everything out when the heaviness settles on my chest from everything that's happened this past week. It has made me a wreck.

Brushing my hand through my disheveled hair, I huff out a breath. That is, before headlights shine down the road. Who would be driving at this time of night? ...What time is it again?

I rub my eyes hard, preparing to pick myself back up and try heading back to bed again. But the headlights, bright and drawing near, travels into my driveway. I narrow my eyes to recognize the vehicle - when my eyes widen. A silhouette exits the car and makes way from around it, before the familiar face appears by the porch light reflecting on half of his face.

My body freezes. My heart pumps - when my eyes lock onto his blue pair. "Jack..." I breathe, unsure of whether to be angry. I should be.
His lips merely tug upward. "Babe, look, I am so sorry for what I did to you." He reaches out his hands that once brought me comfort - drawing closer in my direction.

Something flickers in his blue irises - hurt, pain. "Good." I say under my breath. I watch him continue to walk toward the porch. "You need to feel pain for what you did to me."

My brows furrow, "Don't come near me." He stops in his tracks, his arms dropping lazily back to both his sides.

"Leave. And don't come back." I state, turning to enter my house. "Whoa, wait. What about all my stuff?" I hear his pathetic voice, and turn around to see him once more.
I perch a brow. "I'll throw it out tomorrow. Feel free to come by the yard and pick it up. If you don't show I'll burn it." I say carelessly with a shrug. "After that I don't want to see you again, Jack." I watch him, not able to latch on to the unreadable emotion behind his eyes, but I turn anyway and my back faces his slouching frame.

Just when I reach the front door to open it, a firm hand slams on the outside wall next to my head, causing me to jump. Standing, I quickly move my gaze to the anger radiating beside me. Jack stands with either of his hands on the tall wooden door I'm up against. My eyes narrow at him, when a visible expression passes on his face: regret. "Have you lost your mind?" I say through gritted teeth, his body close.

His hand drops from beside my head and back to his side. Instantly, angrily, I knee him in between the legs. He immediately bends over and cries out a groan. I don't have time for this. I smirk.

I squat down to meet his face. "You come near me again, and you will not live to see the next day. Understand me?!" I breathe; a mixture of pride, anger, relief and satisfaction swirl in my veins. He hurriedly nods in understanding.

"Go." I demand boldly, when he limps down the porch steps and carefully makes his way to his car. I stand with my arms crossed, watching a couple more minutes; to see the headlights speed out of my driveway and hear the engine roar down the street, before I finally head back inside my house.

I kick the front door shut behind me. A yawn escapes my lips, and I head back upstairs to plop onto my comfortable bed - the pills finally kicking in, heavy.

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