Not a him (Editing)

chapter 17

I swear half this town is insane!

I bet your wondering what I'm talking about, right?

Well I'm at the hair salon and this crazy bit.ch -who might I add use to bully me- freaking died almost all my hair black.

Who fuc.king does that? All I wanted was a little hair cut and some black tips, but no the bitc.h did this instead.

"I'll pay you 100 if you die the black purple and don't fuc.k it up."

That caught her attention, making her get to work.

An hour later, she was finally done. And it doesn't look half bad.

I handed her 150 and left the salon ready to get back to the house.

Me and Nash stay at a little guest house in my grandma's backyard. And its right by the pool.

Getting to my car, I got this weird feeling. But I don't now why. I looked around the parking lot. Not finding anything, I quickly got in my challenger and speed out the parking lot. But the feeling still stayed with me.

Speeding a little bit faster, I made it to the house, got my bags and walked into the backyard.

This time I felt like someone was following me. Looking behind me I found no one there, so I just kept walking.

Finally getting inside, I dropped all my things and walked to the fridge to get the left over waffles and chicken from last night.

A soft squeak was heared from my left, freezing me to my spot.

Slowly reaching for the knife in my belt, I listened out for the soud. This time it was a footstep. 10 feet away, to my left, and making its way to me.

Quickly reacting, I throw the knife at the intruder.

Worst mistake of my life.

I felt a sharp pain in my hand as a angel like voice screamed in agony.

There stood my mate with a knife in his hand pined to a wall.

"Shit! Babe I'm so sorry."

"Why would you do that," I could see the tears slowly cloud up his eyes.

"I though you were an intruder."

"Why would you think that."

"Cause I thought someone was following me."

"I sent a fighter to protect you."

"Oooh, that makes more since."

"Wait, did you die your hair?"

" yeah actually. She screwed up so I just told her to died it purple."

He tried walking to me but was stopped by his hand stuck to a wall.

"That was your fault."

"JUST GET THE FUC.K KNIFE OUT OF MY HAND!"

"Calm down."

"There is a freaking silver knife in my GODDAME HAND," he screamed out the last part.

"Oooooh I total forgot about the silver, you my dad got that for me. Man was,I happy about it. Best Christmas I ever had-"

"GET THE KNIFE OUT MY HAND."

"DID YOU JUST FUC.KING INTERRUPT ME. I SHOULD THROW ANOTHER AT YOUR DICK!"

"NO! Babe, just please get the knife out my hand, please."

I took in his pleading figure, feeling sorry for him.