𝐄𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝐋𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

【 Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ７ 】ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

(Don't start the song yet, I'll let you know when to start it)

       Finding my way to my favorite tree, I take a seat at it's roots, pulling my backpack off of my shoulders after another exhausting day of work.

       "And it's only Monday," I mutter to myself. As I pull out my homework a slip of paper falls out from behind it, landing in my lap. A smile creeps onto my face as I recognize the sketch I'd been drawing in class the other day, the latest artwork I've been working on.

       A shame it won't make it onto the wall of fame in my room though, I do quite like it. But, if he ever came to my house again he'd be weirded out for sure. It's only a picture of his face, nothing bad, but if he saw it he might think I'm a stalker or something.

As I'm about to put the drawing away, it's snatched from my hands, and into the clutches of. . .

"Jackson," I growl, "What do you want from me? An autograph, maybe? With all these frequent visits I'd say you might even have a little crush on me!"

His face turns red with embarrassment as his lackeys giggle at my comment, "Shut up you stupid girl! You know I don't!"

He looks over the paper in his hands and a wicked grin grows on his face, "Though I might assume you're the one with a crush here, Anne."

He shows the paper to the other boys and they exchange sinister looks with each other. I narrow my eyes, glaring at them to give a fair warning for how they could end up. The cold metal blade presses against my thigh, the handle just inches from my grasp.

      No. Father said the knife is for self defense only. However, after he left Mother told me that honor is an extension of yourself so. . .

"If only Anne knew lover boy's dark secret," Jackson taunts, catching my attention.

"But I would hate to see Anne cry!" Another boy joins in.

My curiosity overwhelms me. How can I get this information out of them? "You'd never see me cry in a million years! Unless it was at your funeral, but I guess tears of joy don't count!" I spit out at him, seeing my insult take affect.

He grits his teeth, "Oh yeah? Wanna bet?"

Jackson grabs the collar of my blouse, pulling me in close so that none of the others can pick up on what he tells me.

"Dio Brando used to be a gambler." He hisses next to my ear.

My mouth falls agape. The information slowly registering in my mind. As I process his statement he adds more, this time so all can hear.

"You've fallen in love with a rotten liar!" He laughs, radiating an air of triumph at my stunned reaction.

I clench my teeth, keeping my head down, "You don't know the half of Dio Brando."

Jackson, barely listening to what I said, gives me a questioning glance, falling silent. The others follow suit. With all their eyes on me I feel outnumbered, but I meet their stares with my own cold glare without hesitating.

"Dio Brando may be a liar," I continue, rising from the ground slowly, "But rotten, he is not." My fingers close around the handle of my blade, "Rotten, is what I see before me."

       Jackson shoves me against the tree, the rough bark digging into my back, "Watch what you say, girly."

       I carefully snatch the paper from his hands as he's distracted and drive my knee into his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. Using as much force as I can, I push him off of me. He stumbles backwards, but quickly regains his balance, looking even angrier than before.

       Jack is no gentleman, he would have no qualms about hitting a girl, least of all me. I tuck my paper into my backpack, then, winding up as fast as I can, I hurl it upwards into the tree. The handle snags on one of the higher branches, just as I planned.

(Start song now!)

I bounce on my toes, keeping my feet shoulder width apart. I raise my fists to guard myself, my eyes laser focused on my opponent. The boys behind him surround us, making sure neither of us will back off.

"Oh, you think you're so tough huh? We'll see about—" Jack's sentence is cut off as my fist connects with his unguarded jaw.

"I only let my opponents talk if they make witty remarks that entertain me. In your case I'd much rather just take that opportunity to knock you to kingdom come." I state, shaking out my hand from the impact.

He swings blindly at me, not taking even a moment to recuperate from the blow. It's a powerful right hook, I can tell from the whoosh sound it made as it flew past me.

I grab his arm, squeezing tightly so he can't pull away, "Nice try," while he's still off balance from his attempt I yank his wrist, sending him charging headfirst into the tree.

Thunk.

Quite dazed now, he uses the tree as support. When he turns around I see a gash along his cheek, and blood running from his nose.

       "You'll pay for that!" He seethes, coming at me with a series of hard blows.

       I dodge and block as many as I can, but I can't stop all of them. I feel pain crackle through my ribs. As I'm in shock he lands a sloppy hit to my temple, though it still manages to send my head spinning. I fall to the ground, clutching the side of my face as black spots enter my vision.

       Jack approaches me, no doubt to kick me while I'm down. I try to get up but the quick movement makes my head pound. I prepare for the pain, but it doesn't come. I squint my eyes to see another boy holding Jackson back.

"I think she's had enough, Jack. Cut it out already." The guy grabs his shoulder, preventing him from coming closer.

"Look what she did to my face! I'm gonna pummel that brat till she wishes she was dead!" He threatens.

The boy frowns, "She's just a girl, lay off,"

I cut Jackson off before he can retort, "Thank you, Lucas. That was a kind gesture, but what you meant to say is that you shouldn't kick a man while he's down."

Getting up from my hands and knees, I reenter my fighting stance, holding myself up with the pure force of determination. Adrenaline courses through my veins, giving me a new rush of energy. Jack pulls away from Lucas, preparing for another swing.

       I don't let him get that far this time. Realizing he never guards his core—having his hands up to protect his face—I take a quick jab just below his rib cage. He reflexively lowers his hands a little, and I take the opening to knock him right in the bridge of his nose.

       He grabs his face, trying to relieve some of the pain, and by doing so is momentarily blinded. I wind up and throw a powerful left hook, hitting the exact spot he got me: the temple. The bones in my knuckles ache as they make contact with his skull.

Jackson falls with the impact of the hit, landing on his side with a thud. I watch to see if he'll get up, but he remains there, face in the dirt.

"Serves you right." I breathe out, not realizing I'd been holding my breath. I watch for a little longer, seeing his chest rise and fall. After taking in the utterly shocked faces of the boys around me, I leave, heading back to town, back to Primrose Books.

I have a party to prepare for, and a new piece of information to verify. I need to come up with a game plan before going to the masquerade. Dio owes me an explanation, and I believe I owe Jonathan an apology; after all, I won't be able to spend the whole night with him, carefree and happy.

I'm sorry JoJo, but I have some investigating to do. I promise I will make it up to you.

____________________________________

A/n: Two parts in one day? Merry Christmas to you! Er, late Christmas. It's a gift, that's all that matters.

P.S. Anne forgetting her backpack in the tree was intentional. Naturally after an intense fight she would forget something trivial like a backpack.

Happy holidays!