Written in Anger

~ 3

Chapter 3 |

Kyela's Pov

I was in so much pain. My back was sore, my head ached, and throat was killing me. I was squished in between the "fedora guy" and another guy he kept calling Marlon, and I was really uncomfortable. I knew that if I said something, I'd probably be punished mostly because he told me not to say anything once I got into the car.

I can't believe this happened. I really should've let Colby take me home because this wouldn't've happened otherwise. Oh my goodness; Colby. I don't know how long I'll be staying with this curly haired man, so I might not ever see my perfect boyfriend ever again.

We'd been driving on the same dirt road for the past three hours, and I'm really sleepy. I don't want to fall asleep just out of fear of what they might want to do to me because they're all men, big, strong, muscular men.

↭

Soon, we pulled up to a giant, secluded house that had blinding, motion censor lights that flashed into my face, making me wince because of the sensitivity of my eyes.

When the car finally stopped, all the guys jumped out the car leaving me alone. I could hear them talking outside the car, and I listened hard enough to hear one of them say,

"Want her dead."

My heart drops into my stomach, and I almost faint. The only thing that stops me from passing out is the door opening, and the fedora guy pulls me out by my arm. I stumble to regain my balance as he drags me up stairs into his house.

I gasp at the large, beautiful foyer at the entrance of the house. He pulls me closer to him irritably.

"Does this surprise you?" he mutters.

I don't answer because it sounded more on the rhetorical side. He pulls me along further into the house which is beautiful, but I resist from making any comments.

Finally, he drags me into his kitchen where two women are sitting at the table talking with another tall guy while Marlon snacks on something out the fridge. I instantly get scared because the other guy sitting at the table looks a lot bigger than the rest of them, and who knows what plans there are for little old me in this big house with these big men.

"Who is this, Michael?" one of the women asks.

Michael loosens his grip on me just a little before speaking.

"This is Kyela," he answers angrily.

Why is he talking with such an angry voice? Most importantly, why is everybody looking so shocked at his introduction? The tall man at the table stands to his feet, then takes himself out of the beautifully put together kitchen.

When the woman that spoke before opens her mouth to talk, Michael cuts her off,

"Is Janet here?" he questions.

"She's upstairs," the lighter skinned woman that looks like Michael answers. They must be related.

"Thanks," he breathes before turning around and dragging me some place else.

↭

"Stay here in this room," Michael commands.

I nod, acknowledging his orders and sitting on the bed. From the next room over, I can hear a discussion that's more of an argument through the wall. I get closer in a chair near the wall just to listen.

"What do you mean you need clothes?"

"Janet, I need clothes for her! She's not going to wear the same shit everyday," he yells.