Bad Boys Kidnapped Me

Meeting

"Katrina!" I hear my mother's voice screech from downstairs. I ignore her and groan. It's a Monday. Let me sleep, I think, snuggling into my covers.

"Katrina Evelyn Mores get up before I kick you out of my house!" she hollers.

Knowing she was fully serious I angrily push the covers off me and mutter profanities under my breath.

"KATRINA!"

"I'm up" I yell back, my frustration growing.

"Don't give me attitude young lady, you live under my roof and-"

I stop listening by going into my bathroom and shutting the doors, effectively stopping my ears from bleeding. My god that woman had a voice on her, I could hear it from three stories down. I turn the sink on and start to wash the sleep off my face.

I peer up and look at the mirror, the droplets of water running down my face. My eyes were the one feature I wish I had different. The one feature that reminded me of my trauma. My right eye was green, inheriting it from my father but my left was a piercing shade of violet.

I quickly look away and grab my hairbrush. My hair was thick and long, holding volume as it fell past my hips. The shade of black was inherited from my mother. My slim but toned figure was dressed only in a tank top and black silk shorts. My collar bones stuck out more than usual which I frowned at, had I lost weight?

I rub my eyes tiredly and yawn as I grab my toothbrush and start brushing. My straight white teeth shining, my cheekbones prominent and my button nose red from the cold. After I brush my teeth, I plop myself into the shower and take my time shaving and washing every inch of my body.

I wrap a towel around myself and make my way to my walk-in closet, thinking about what I was going to wear. My family was wealthy and powerful, I had been very lucky for my privilege however it was also the reason for my past many years ago.

My clothes were snug accentuating my curves and my makeup was bold with dark eye makeup and stained red lips. I liked bold looks. It made me feel confident and the best part of it was, no one would dare talk to me. I put on my combat boots and grab my bag which had my carton of cigarettes resting peacefully inside.

I was the bad girl. I was the one mothers would whisper to their daughters about and I loved every bit of it. I was a fighter and I never took shit from anyone. No matter who it was. I was empowered, and I wasn't afraid of being referred to as a 'bitch.'

My phone starts to ring and I smile when I see my best friend's name pop up.

"Hello this is sparkle and welcome to the playboy mansion, how can I help you?" I say smoothly and innocently.

"You know one day it's not going to be me and then you're going to have to deal with a freak," my best friend Chelsea replies flatly.

"Whatever, now tell me what the fuck you want?" I ask impatiently, getting my keys.

"Can't a best friend you've known for thirteen years say hi" she answers in a mocking tone.

"No," I reply immediately.

"Ouch."

I roll my eyes and hang up the phone putting it in my bag, she can just text me. I go downstairs to the kitchen to see my two brothers sitting across from my dad having breakfast.

"Finally" Zach mutters, not even lifting his green eyes from his plate.

"Good morning to you too" I reply sarcastically.

"Hey Kat? Shut up and eat your breakfast" my other brother Drew says.

"You know I'm older than you asshole," I remark as I walk towards the table.