The Player in Him
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"Why aren't you scared?" I whine and he laughs.
"Come on, you wouldn't dare hurt me with that. It's too risky, and I can get out of this easily, babe." I can tell
he's smirking and it's sickening.
"Oh yeah? Try." I say confidently and in one swift motion, he has me on the floor. He's now straddling me with both my hands above me and the knife in his hands, pressed lightly against my throat.
This turns me on...
"I...I stand corrected." I wheeze in laughter, ignoring the massive pain in my head. "Now can you be a nice guy and turn off the music and help me with this pain please?"
"That's all I was waiting for, Doll." He smirks and gets off of me, setting the knife on the counter. I roll over, groaning as I make my way to the living room to lay on the couch.
Liam Forte and Jasmine Galvin. Opposite, but similar in many ways. The difference? He's a player. Every school has one, and Liam is the one. Moving in to her house shortly after summer has officially started, Jasmine has to deal with the boy who will leave a permanent mark on her life.
Kinda immature, I'm no grown ass woman.
SLOWLY EDITING. DON'T SHOOT!
Follow up: DONE EDITING. YOU MAY DROP YOUR WEAPONS!
Follow up to the follow up: NOT REALLY DONE EDITING, BUT KEEP THE FIRE DOWN! I'M WRITING THE SECOND BOOK (the better one, in my opinion) SO MY TIME IS ATE UP.
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I'm gonna get him killed. Someday. Somehow. I'm gonna get him killed. And the worst part? He knows I will. "Turn this into a fucking game, I'm begging you to make a bet out of it, just to see how long you'll last trying to change it before you realize not only you, but no one can. Genie gives you three wishes? Not enough. Every single memory taken out of my brain? Still only got one reality. A gun to my head....? You'll know my last words even if I don't get to say them." "A gun to mine?" An enemies to dead lovers, if you may. "A gun to yours?" I fucking hate him. "We're not the kind that fear death, why?" I really fucking hate him. "We know it doesn't end anything, we know it starts everything. You think a gun to your head's gonna be the last? No, either we write a sequel together in hell, or you're gonna find me taking a relaxing bath in someone's blood." "Do you know what a gun to yours means?" "A gun to my head....?" "A gun to your head, means a gun in my hands." He smiles. "Take my last breath from me, and I'll give you my last words."
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