A Match Made in Hell; a price to pay.

Prologue

A month ago on the 17th of November

Another knock on the fucking door.

Jesus fucking, Christ, when were they going to leave me alone?

I loved my friends, of course I did, I was just genuinely wondering why the fuck they wouldn't leave me alone.

I went through shit and so did they, it didn't mean that I couldn't have 5 minutes to myself.

I lost Clay. I was fucking devastated and I still am, but their sympathy feels more like unwanted pity at this point, it's starting to bother me.

I sigh loudly, opening the door without questioning who's there, and not bothering to look.

A gun finds its place pointed right at my forehead.

"What the fuc—"

I looked up slowly, my eyes meeting the pair of bright blue infront of me, grinning like he's never been happier.

I freeze, not knowing what to do. God knows how many soldiers he brought for backup.

I move so suddenly and grab the gun on the nightstand behind me, pointing to directly at his face before he has any time to process what's happening or do something about it. I doubt he even saw me move.

"Put it down." He says, not flinching or twitching a single damn muscle. God, he was an insufferable bastard. I couldn't just kill him here, not at my own damn doorstep.

He placed his gun carefully back in his blazers pocket, bumping his shoulder against mine as he makes himself comfortable in my house.

What the hell?

"I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk." He collapses onto the couch, resting his feet on the coffee table shamelessly. He's august fucking jacobs, he doesn't have any shame.

"You're supposed to be dead." I scoff.

"Karl thinks too much of himself, I don't die so fast, especially not in his hands."

I knew he wouldn't hurt me. He was a psychopath, I despised him, he despised me, but he wouldn't do that. Not here, at least.

At some point, he would kill me, just not now, not hers, because i know he wants something. Or maybe he's here to yell at me or scold me, but I'm not that stupid.

"What do you want from me?" I sit down in front of him, my gun resting in my lap. "Information? You need somebody to let your anger out on?"

He laughs. He gets up and starts laughing like he's never laughed harder before in his whole damn life, like I said something so funny.

The laugh makes my stomach drop, but he also sounds like unicorns and rainbows are gonna shoot out of his ass any second.

I eye him from the side, genuinely wondering when that laughter is going to die down, and it finally does, that felt like it took hours and days.

I hated his laugh. I fucking despised it, his voice and his presence urged me to start smashing my head against walls, that is how much I fucking despised the son of a bitch.

I wanted to bury a bullet in that empty head of his, I wanted to end him right here, right now. He was a disgusting fucker, I wanted to make this his last breath and his last heartbeat. I wanted to end him for what he did to me. I needed to end him for what he did to him.

"What do you want from me, August?!" I spit in his face, raising my voice, everything about him was starting to bother me. God, how id kill to have him out of here.