Claimed ~ Justin Bieber

Chapter Eight

Songs for this chapter are:

Strong - One Direction

Never Say Never - The Fray

Demons - Imagine Dragons

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Justin's POV

I gripped the steering wheel excruciatingly tight, my knuckles turning a pale, pasty white.

Does she hate me that much she wants to run away every chance she gets?

I looked over at the beautiful sleeping drunk girl sitting in the passenger seat. I knew it was only because she was drunk that she asked me if I truly loved her. She never would of if she was sober.

Because she's scared of you.

Excitement pulsed through my veins at the though of another human being afraid of me. I felt powerful, and I loved it.

However, I ground teeth together, trying to stop myself of thinking that way. The demons inside of me were bursting out, wanting me to wake her up and yell at her for running away. I tried to tame them, and think about how beautiful and perfect she was. The moment when she finally showed compassion, the intimate moment we shared. That certainly was my favourite. The way she touched me, I felt myself growing hard just at the thought of her beautiful fingers running over me again.

I shifted in my chair, my pants suddenly becoming unbearably tight.

We pulled into the driveway, and I stepped out of the car, jogging over to Brooke's side and carrying her bridal style out of the car. Her blonde hair cascaded onto my arm and she shifted a bit, her hands fisting my t-shirt.

I kicked the door open, I didn't have time to unlock it when I ran out, in a heap of anger searching for Brooke. I placed her on the couch, not in my room so I could keep an eye on her out here.

I knew I had to plan a punishment for her, she already knew her action was unacceptable. I sure will enjoy watching her suffer in the palms of my hands. Her screaming out she's mine and nobody else's. Especially not that stupid dick's she was with at the bar.

I took in a deep breath, remembering how that sick bastard was laughing with her, his arms wrapped around her waist. If circumstances were different, I would have beat the shit out of him. I am the only one allowed to be near her, let alone touch my girl.

I placed a pillow underneath her head, and carefully laid a blanket across her shivering body. Her head looked extremely uncomfortable, so I chucked the pillow onto the other couch and sat down, placing her head in my lap. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to be cruel to her. My heart ached at the thought of her being in pain, I shivered at the thought of her getting hurt while running away.

Her hair sprawled out behind her and over my legs, so I picked at the ends of it and started fiddling with them. I grabbed the remote and turned on the t.v and started watching some sort of shitty reality show about these two gay people trying to fix a girls style of clothing.

What absolute bull shit.

I sighed and clicked the next button, and it changed to the news, wanting to make sure everything stayed on the down low.

"Citizens of Manhattan, Brooke Santilli, is still missing. Our news team is still trying to locate her, we are thinking it has something to do with the gangs in the West Side of the city. We hope that everyone will keep an eye out. Back to you Phil." The reporter said, and a missing person ad came up, sporting a picture of Brooke.