BAD {Michael Jackson}

{BAD... 30}

Wednesday Afternoon~

Alexis's POV:

He bit his lip as he came over to sit next to me on the bed.

"So what do you want to know?" I asked.

He thought for a moment. "How did you end up in jail?" He asked, quizzically.

I giggled. "Tell me what you think I was in for?I said.

He raised a brow. "Honestly?

"Well I wouldn't want you to lie."

He chuckled. "Remember the first time we saw each other in the jail?" He asked. I nodded. "I don't think I'll ever forget."

"I thought you were a prostitute or something. That was the only reason I could come up with for a girl that looks as pretty as you would be in prison for." He said.

My jaw dropped. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or offended.

"Well was I right?" He asked half jokingly. I scoffed. "Fuck no!" I protested.

"Well what were you in for?"

I sighed. "Second degree murder."

Michael gave me a crazy look. "You?"

I put my hand up to stop him. "It's not what you think. I didn't kill anyone. My boyfriend did. The cops caught me with his bag with the murder weapon inside. There were a bunch of drugs too. My boyfriend wouldn't confess that it was him, so he just let me take the heat for it." I explained.

Michael's entire face was twisted with anger. "He let you take the heat for what he did?" He asked. I nodded. "Yeah." I said sadly.

"How could he do something like that to you?" He said angrily. "And the cops believed that it was you? No fucking way."

Why was he getting so upset?

"What's his name?" Michael asked. "First and last."

"Christopher Walker."

Michael repeated his name under his breath. He turned to me with a serious look in his eye. "Alexis, if I ever come across a Christopher Walker, consider him dead."

I was so taken aback by his aggression. "Michael, why are you so upset?" I asked.

"How are you not upset? He let you take the blame for what he did! You're a felon and he's not. If he would've owned up to what he did like a man, you wouldn't have gone to jail, or been in a shitty situation like you are now. You would've been safe." He said. He paused for a moment.

"You would've never run into me."

I turned my body toward him. He still stared straight ahead with a look of pure fury on his face.

I placed my hand on his cheek and turned his face toward me. "Aren't you happy I ran into you?" I asked.

"Of course I am. But this isn't the life for you. Don't you have dreams and aspirations?" Michael asked.

I nodded. "I was in nursing school." I answered.

My eyes wandered down to his left arm that was wrapped in gauze. It looked like a few layers were applied to hide the blood that had leaked through. It wasn't doing a very good job.

"What's this?" I asked as I placed my hand on the wound. Michael jumped from the pressure of my hand. "Shot wound." He answered shortly.

I didn't say much else to him. I just let my training kick in.

I unwrapped the gauze, careful not to hurt him. I'm surprised that he was still able to use his arm after getting a shot wound like this one. The bullet wasn't that deep. I could easily make it better with a simple first aid kit.

"Do you have a first aid kit around here?" I asked. He nodded. "That top drawer."

I turned to the bedside table and opened the drawer. I grabbed the first aid kit and took the pair of tweezers out of the box.

"This is going to hurt." I said. "Hold still."

I felt him tense up as I stuck the tweezer into the wound. I got it around the bullet pretty easily. He hissed as I pulled the bullet out of the wound.

I held it in the air for the both of us to see. It was about three inches long. It looked familiar to me.

Michael nodded to himself. "That looks about right. That's was the gun Smiley used."

My eyes widened. "He shot you?" I asked. Michael shrugged. "He has plenty times before."

I gave him a look of sorrow. "Don't worry. I'm going to fix this up and make it all better." I said as I pinched his cheek.

The first aid kit didn't have needle or thread, so I would just have to wrap it up tightly and let it heal on its own.

I grabbed a fresh roll of gauze and looped it around his arm about ten times. When I was done, I secured it and kissed it.

"See? This is what I mean. You were going to school for something good. You help people. You helped me." He said as he gestured to the wound. "There's no reason for someone like you who has a good heart to be running around the globe with someone like me, who kills people."

"Michael," I started. "There's nothing either of us can do to change what's already happened. We met, and here we are. As much as I've complained about hating you, and you being sick and twisted, I'm actually glad I ran into you."

He raised a brow. He didn't believe me.

"I don't know how else to tell you that I'm glad I'm where I am. Of course I would love to not be a wanted criminal, or constantly get dragged around, or watch people get killed all day. But in the midst of all that, there's you."

Michael chuckled. "What's wrong with you?"

I gave him a confused look.

"I haven't even proven myself to be worthy of you, yet you're really sticking by me. Any other girl wouldn't deal with the shit I've put you through." He said.

I brought my face really close to his. "You're right. They wouldn't. They wouldn't stick by you like I do. That's why should you get your shit together and cherish me all the more."

Michael bit his lip. "I know that. And I will. Promise."

Our lips came together and we got lost in a kiss. Our lips moved in the perfect rhythm they always would.

This man really cared about me. A sick and twisted criminal had humbled himself.

All for me.