Show Me What Home Is

Chapter Seven: 8161

Chapter Seven: 8161

Jennifer's POV:

8161

8161

8161

I jerk awake, sitting up rapidly, immediately regretting it when the sting of my burns remind me of last nights incident. It's not as horrible as I thought it would be, but it feels like a bad sunburn.

I look over to my right and see that Michael is still sound asleep, cuddling his pillow. I sit up, sighing, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I look at the red alarm clock which displays: 4:33A.M.

Michael had ensured that anything that could be used as a weapon against him was removed from his room, and when he wasn't home, the thugs kept a close eye on me, especially around the kitchen utensils.

Ignoring my odd-ass dreams, I stand up and the cold breeze quickly reminds me of my near-nudity. I tip-toe to Michael's closet and grab the baggiest T-shirt I can, which happens to be solid white and slightly see-through.

Ugh...

I head down the dark stairs, heading for the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ!" I yelp when I flick on the light and see a thug sitting at the dining table. I don't know why I didn't expect one to be posted down here.

"My name is Six, not Jesus."

"You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing?" I ask, having never seen him before.

The pale white man with dark red hair doesn't answer me, no, instead, he's too busy looking me over.

"Look, I wasn't trying to pull anything I was just getting some water." I immediately walk off to the fridge, uncomfortable under his gaze. That gaze was very familiar to me.

I lean down to grab a water from the bottom of the door of the fridge, unscrewing the cap and taking a long, needed swig.

I shut the fridge and jump in surprise when I turn around to see Six standing not but a foot in front of me.

"Do you need something?" I ask cautiously.

"Master Rolland has never brought a woman home, not for years. What caught his attention about you? Your beauty?" He leans his right arm on the fridge and I can feel his breath on my face.

"Look, I really should head back to the room before Michael see's I'm not there..."

"He doesn't get up until six thirty. Why don't you come to the guest room with me?" He puts his hand on my hip, sliding it down and grabbing my ass tightly.

I push him off, "Stay away from me," I warn him.

I make the mistake of walking off and turning my back to him. He wraps his arm around my waist and his hand around my mouth.

I try to scream for Michael, but there is no way he'll hear me.

I struggle with all my might as the man drags me down the hallway and into a bedroom, tossing me on the bed.

"Michael will find out about this..." Is the only threat I can come up with in my panicked state.

"No, he won't. Not unless you want him to come home one day and see that you killed yourself." He threatens me.

"Michael! Michael help me-" He crawls on top of me and slaps me.

"Shut up and be a good little girl, yeah?"