The Mafia's Boy

6 - edited

Sorry for the long-awaited chapter, I've been doing YouTube recently, more stories recently, and now college rolled up into one.

So enjoy

                              （*^_^*）

*Jackson's POV*

I don't know precisely how long I've been locked up. It could be a few days or nearing a week, but it's been a while. "This is bullshit," I mumbled as I tugged at the chains. They weren't as secure on the wall as Ace's were. Oh god, I bet he's in a full-blown panic and scared. He becomes a mess when I'm not around.

They should've found me by now, with the tracker and all. I guess it's jammed. I turned when I heard footsteps approaching the door. My mind always wishes it was Ace, but I know it isn't, not yet. When the door opened, I saw the guy who took me—his evil-looking eyes staring down at my helpless self. It sent shivers down my spine, and I gulped.

"I wonder how long it'll take," he said, stepping down the stairs, closing in on my body, and kneeling. "Before they either find you or return my boss," he said, trying to grip my chin, but I spit in his face. He angrily wiped his face and slapped me so hard it busted my lip. "You'll pay for that," I said calmly, too calm for my liking.

Ace doesn't like it when somebody is mean to me or threatens me or harms me, so I just let out a laugh. "What are you laughing at, bitch?!" He bellowed, grasping my chin and squeezing it so hard I knew it was going to bruise. I stared directly into his cold eyes and spoke, "I'm laughing at you, bitch. Once he finds me and sees what you did," I started laughing a little bit more, "you'll be dead before you can speak a syllable." I watched him for a second.

"Oh yeah?" He asked in a smart-ass tone, grabbing me by the neck and slamming me into the wall. Since my head was secured by the grip on my neck, it didn't bounce much on the wall. "Yeah, so I suggest backing off and letting me go," I said, slamming my foot into his knee.

He was about to buckle; his grip slackened, and I wrapped the chains around the guy's neck when the door was opened, and the lights flickered on. "Oh, my Baby!" I heard Ace. I stared up at him, blood slowly drying on my lip, and my grip on the chains tightening around the guy's throat. The guy went limp, and I let go of the chain.

Ace rushed to undo the restraints and checked for any more injuries. "Are you okay?!" He asked so frantically that I almost didn't catch the question. "Chin's bruised and lip's busted, but yes, I am fine," I said, and he picked me up. I was carried out of the place; his men were waiting for us. Their guns were drawn, but they didn't move until they saw us.

After the long ride home, I sat down on the couch, and Ace doctored my lip as best as he could, cleaning it and all. What can you do with a busted lip? "I was so worried! I haven't slept," he said. I saw the bags under his eyes and the sleepy look himself.

I grabbed his hand, walked up to our bedroom, or ours I should say, and pulled him into bed. "Let's sleep then?" I said, giving a gentle, loving smile to the big softie who only agreed and crawled in next to me. We both fell asleep, him holding onto me like I was going to be taken again.