Previously Titled 'Paradise'.
For her entire life, Paradise Hamilton has had no say in her own personal affairs. From a child she had grown up under the strict rules of her Caribbean parents.
But when the day finally arrived for her to wed a comple...
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Omniscient
Atlanta, Georgia
Rocko's frame jumped suddenly atop the dingy mattress, awaking himself from the five-hour rest he had managed to cram in. His tired eyelids, slightly cracked themselves apart, their slight puffiness depriving them of a full opening.
Quickly, the man switched his gaze to the hinged door that had been left ajar at the tip of the room, scurrying slowly to the top of his sheets when his gaze took in a man. His fingers traced desperately across the cotton bedspread, searching for the one thing that could serve as an aid in that very moment.
Though the moment, he'd expanded his searching regions, a voice pulled him completely out of his frantic state, instead carrying him to a place of pure and utter, fear.
"Looking for this?"
He could hear the smirk evident in the man's voice, and he glanced at him, watching his fingertips twirl the chamber of a matte gun around, as if they all had been indulging in a risky game of Russian Roulette.
Tremani tore his eyes away for a brief moment; an instant feeling of defeat washing over him. His dark orbs travelled to the fully opened window perched against the room's grey walls. Like an active Ping-Pong, his attention shifted between both the intruder and his planned escape route for a while, before he picked his entire body weight up, sprinting towards the exit in a breeze.
Yet before he could merely touch the ceramic frame of the opening, the feeling of a gun's butt colliding with the back of his head, stopped the male dead in his tracks, forcing his silhouette to the carpeted floor with a thud, and tiny drops of garnet blood to outpour from the fresh wound that had been created.
Zebediah stepped around one of the men he had arrived with, sending a powerful kick to Rocko's side before speaking, fury lacing every word.
"Get the fuck up!"
It seemed as if the entire room shook when he spoke those demanding words around the enclosure, compelling the weakened man beneath him to stand to his two shaky feet, dual fingertips pressed against the gash that had torn itself a permanent scar in the back of his cranium.
Rocko swiveled his body around, allowing the two enemies to finally become face to face after such a drawn-out plethora of events.
