The Criminal Calls Me Cupcake (Watty Winner 2013)

Chapter 14

Whooo, here's Chapter 14 like I promised! :]]] It's not much, but I hope it's ok!

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Chapter 14

I sat silently still in my seat as Zayn's Lamborghini "Bat-mobile" revved its engine and flew down the bumpy dirt road.

 

            "Tell me where you're taking me," I demanded.

            Zayn didn't answer, his gaze on the road unwavering.  Except for the slight upturn of his lips, I had no indication that he had even heard me.

            We had been driving down the same road for the past twenty minutes, going God knows where. Thick pools of trees enveloped us on both sides. We were far from any sort of civilization—I was sure of it.

            "You said you were taking me to the police station," I said, glaring at him. "This," I motioned to the dense forests around us, "is not the police station. This, Zayn, is the freaking middle of nowhere!"

            He reached over and flipped on the radio. Immediately, Ryan Tedder's voice filled every inch of the car. At least he had good taste in music.

            "This could be classified as kidnapping, you know," I said.

            My heart fumbled in its rhythm as the speed of the car increased. I dug my nails into my seat and glanced over at the speedometer. Nearly 100 miles per hour.  This was probably the fastest I had ever gone. In my entire life. And I wasn't liking it.

            As soon as I realized that Zayn had placed his hand on my thigh, I froze. "Relax, Violet. I promise," he shot me a smile, "if this car somehow goes tumbling off the cliff, I will hold your hand the entire way down."

            I glared at him. "Well, that's reassuri—wait, did you say 'the cliff'?"

            "I'm kidding, there's no cliff."

            I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the seat. As the music vibrated throughout the car, I used the time to get my thoughts together. A, the necklace, Landon, Zayn—it had all clumped together in my brain to form the ultimate headache. Why did I have to get caught in the middle of this. Did I do something so bad in my previous life? Was Karma coming back to bite me in the butt?

            As soon as my necklace disappeared from my room along with A that night, they should have disappeared from my life. I should have been rid of this drama.  But then A had suddenly broke through the gates of hell and rode a golden chariot into my life again, this time not wearing a hooded cloak and a hidden face, but in a grey gym shirt, shorts, and worn out Nike sneakers.  He had deliberately revealed his identity to me, while playing dumb about it.

            He had talked about A, though. Did that mean anything?

            I restlessly tugged at my memory, trying to pull his words to the surface.

            He had said . . . that "A" usually breaks into uptown bars and shops. How would he know that if he weren't the mastermind himself? Why was he telling me that anyway? Was he trying to lure me into a trap? Did he want me to hunt him down? Maybe he did. Maybe, possibly, I was the pawn that was destined to be swept off the chessboard by the king.

            But even then, why did I feel like even after the game ended, I was still being tossed around. It was like A was still trying to torment me—make me lose my mind—even after he had gotten the necklace and won. Wasn't that was the entire feud was about? That simple emerald necklace with the engraving that apparently meant "power conquers fear," which was currently residing around Landon's neck? I didn't understand what else he wanted.

            Maybe I should seek A out. I'd confront him; tell him to leave me the fudge alone.

            Hah, like that would work.

            Maybe I could leave him a message like he left me on the window of the jewelry shop.

Leave me the fudge alone, A.   –Cupcake

Maybe I'd add a few angry faces here and there. Just to ensure that I got my point across nice and clear.

If he pulled one of his many knifes on me though, I'd be as dead as a meaty chicken  on Thanksgiving day. I'd look weak and pathetic, pleading for him not to hurt me. A surge of anger rushed through me. If I was ever in that situation again, I would not look pathetic—I'd stand up to him; show him I'm not scared. That was a promise.

And then, ding, the light bulb went off; it suddenly hit me; I was surprised I didn't think of it sooner; any cliché way to describe the idea that just popped into my head, even though it's not really that great. Really, the idea that just left me in awe simply lacks awesomeness. And if it's not obvious, I'm not being sarcastic.

Either way, I turned toward Zayn, opened my mouth, and spilled seven itsy bitsy words. "Will you teach me how to fight?"

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Sooo, how was it? I know it wasn't much, but please let me know what you think!

I might be able to get another chapter up soon, since I have a little bit of time this weekend :) we'll see tho, I'm not gaurunteeing anything :P

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        -Dream :)