Drug Lord

Chapter VII

It takes me a second to realize that I am standing there awkwardly with my mouth hanging open, staring at Ever Kingsley. Who is at my house. At four in the morning. I instantly felt a sense of alarm.

"For what?" I asked slowly.

"The party, Ms. Hawthorne. Shawn said to come by whenever." He, like Dylan, strides past me and into the house. Ever, however, was far less careful about touching me in the process, though he still went by with grace.

I thought for a second before remembering the front Shawn had talked about. I had forgotten all about it. Was he not supposed to pay Kingsley back yesterday? Did he?

Oh God, he's looking at me.

"I'm here to collect debts, if you're wondering." He turns and walks around the room slowly, taking in the mess and allowing a buzzed me to admire his large build. He had to have been made of stone. His jaw is covered with short layer of black hair, but I can still see how hard the line is set.

"Shawn's not here," I say regretfully. He pours himself a glass of the last bottle of scotch before giving me a look of annoyance.

"Yes, thank you, I can see that."

Ah.

It clicked that Shawn must have been coming home tonight and arranged to meet Kingsley here. Why wouldn't he have come to the party, too? It was his idea in the first place, I mean, what was the point? And why didn't he call me?

"Well. You've already made yourself at home," I nod to his scotch, "so just keep doing that and I'm sure Shawn will be here soon."

Once again I went up the stairs, this time feeling cold, dark eyes on my back the whole way.

I jump onto my bed, greeted by comfort instantly. One by one, I pick the bobby pins out of my hair and throw them onto my dresser. With a final wave, my hair falls loosely down to my waist, free for my fingers to roam through.

"I wouldn't have guessed your hair was that long." Kingsley said coolly from the doorway, causing me to, yet again, almost have a heart attack. I jump from the bed angrily.

"What the fuck! Get out of here!"

It only took him three steps to stand hovering above me. I stood in shock as he leaned down, dragging his fingers across my cheek before bringing them down to my jaw, where he grabbed. He forces my head to face his.

"I believe I told you that I was here to collect on debts."

I still stood in shock, trying to understand what was happening. Something was pushing into my stomach, right above my belly button. I look down to see that it was the barrel of a finger gun. If the situation wasn't so weird, I might have laughed. Instead, he pulls again on my face, bringing my bright eyes to meet his dark ones. They're  filled with revenge and hunger and bad intentions. I tense up almost instantly at the sight, but compose myself soon after. He's trying to intimidate me. He must think that I have whatever money he's here to collect, and he's playing some fucked up version of a game with me.

"Come on," He demanded, halting my thoughts. His hand leaves my face and retreats down to my waist, finger gun still loaded. He pulled me, almost gently, but I was a statue.

"I... I don't have any money, man. I had nothing to do with whatever deal you guys had conjured up. He didn't leave me anything to give you...." I would have kept rambling on about my innocence had I not have looked up to see a usually hard face looking utterly confused. I stop talking immediately and basically gawk at him. Had he ever looked confused before in his life? I doubt it. His face was surely too set in stone to have any other emotion displayed besides hatred.

He stepped and turned away from me. I watched him as he was clearly pondering something. This only lasts about ten seconds before he takes a seat on my bed and returns his facial expression back to its regular cold glare.

"Man? You will not address me as man. I'm not one of your little dread-headed customers, Ms. Hawthorne. I also did not ask you a question. I said to come with me, and it is in your best interest to do what you're told for once."

He held his finger gun up once more. I do laugh this time.

"I'm not going anywhere. I told you I had nothing to do with your all's business. Did you think you were gonna come intimidate a few thousand out of me with your glock?" I nod at his 'weapon'. 

He smiles that wicked, beautiful grin.

"No, I didn't. You're confused. I don't want your money, I want mine. But that's not what I'm here for, seeing as how your brother has ran off with it. I'm here for you."

Shawn ran off with his money.

Oh god. I understand perfectly now, how could I have not picked up on it before? I hadn't even thought about the loan since it was mentioned that night in my room. Shawn said it was supposed to be paid back right before the party, which made no sense now. If that were the case, then his deadline was just yesterday and Kingsley wouldn't be here right now. Not over him being late by one day.

My brother had lied to me.

I instantly scanned my room for potential weapons, and focused finally on a desk lamp that I could bash over his head.

"I wouldn't do that." He says casually, before I could make my move. My eyes trailed to his hand, which was still pointed at me.

"You're gonna shoot me?" I said sarcastically, trying to hide any hint of fear in my voice.

"I won't."

As he speaks the words, I hear heavy footsteps approaching the top of the stairs. He wouldn't shoot me, but whoever those footsteps belonged to would.

I darted to my window, hearing a "Stop. Let me," from behind. I have it unlocked and half-way up when I feel a strong arm snake around the front of my waist and pull. The hand that was attached moves up to wrap around my throat and my body is forced into a broad chest that's equally as hard, if not harder, than the arm. I jerked and I pushed and I hit, but in response, the fingers around my throat only grew tighter.

Am I really this weak? I mean, I had truly given it hell and this guy was rooted to the ground the whole time. His hand on my throat was the only limb that moved. I was quickly running out of oxygen now and exhausted from the fit I'd just thrown.

"Are you done?" his cool voice whispers through my hair and I feel his grip loosen just a tad.

I take his as an opportunity and bring my elbow back into the hard stomach, jerking free from his grasp and turning on my heels to the door.

I'm greeted by two gun barrels pointing at my head. This time they're real. I can't even process the two men before I feel a hand roughly caress the back of my head.

He pulled me by the hair, directing me to the bed. After letting go of my locks, he grabs both of my arms with one hand and pushes on the small of my back with the other, until I'm bent over in full. I can feel the front of his lower half pressed against the back of mine. Blood rushes to my face. 

Was he going to..

All of the sudden, cold bracelets wrapped around my wrists. Had he handcuffed me?

His body left mine.

"Take her to the safehouse," I heard him bark. "Deposit her directly in 412 and I'll arrive shortly. Make no stops, and I expect her to be... treated kindly. I assume you understand. Now go."