This chapter is dedicated to Pinkabelle for the AMAZING cover! And for also the banner on the side. If you sent me a cover or whatever, it'll still be used as I post up more chapters.
But if you need a cover or anything, I defo suggest Pinkabelle. Again, thank you so much! & Thank you to all the others who sent in awesome covers as well!
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THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED.
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I don't know what to do that night. I'm torn between going, seeing Liam, or staying home. The more rational part of me thinks staying home is what's best. Then that small, and I mean small, part of me that fancy's him urges me to go.
But I know I can't afford to.
What if I ended up growing close to Liam? He was a wanted man. And if I were to be with him, It'd be like putting a target right on my back. All the people that were after him would use me against him. But would Liam ever really let anyone lay a finger on me? No. He wouldn't.
I knew that from the moment he heard Adam calling after me in the woods. He looked ready to kill. That scared me, frankly. I knew what he was capable of. He could kill me easily if he pleased. Though I doubt he would.
Why am I even pondering seeing him? It's not safe. Everything about him screams danger. Especially that scar above his eyebrow. I still wonder how he got.. Did one of his victims give it to him while fighting back? The thought makes me shiver and ultimately decides I am not going anywhere near him. No matter what.
But as I lay in bed that night, rolling around restlessly, I realize this is gonna be a lot harder then it seems.
I finally push myself out of bed, not bothering to put on any shorts of sorts. I just walk into the kitchen with my clad underwear on and tang top, knowing I'm alone.
Yeah, my father still hasn't come home. It's no shock. He does this multiple times a month, probably going out and spending his time's at bars. Also probably in some women's bed as well.
I push away the though, disgusted at the image of my father with another woman that isn't my mom.
I glance at the stove clock and sigh when I only see it's 12:30 AM. I know I'm not going to be getting a wink of sleep tonight, so I do what I can do. Drag my art stand out of my room and into the living room. I begin to do mindless things, such as mixing colours and creating silly hearts. Somehow, in one of those hearts "L+R" appears.
I scuff at myself, "Really, Ronnie?" I mumble to myself, ready to splatter some paint on it to mask it when a thud sounds in the house. Particularly, my room. What the hell was that?
I'm alert right away. Another sound occurs, louder this time, as if demanding my attention.
I gulp nervously some how finding comfort as I grip my pant brush in my hand. Then I quickly think to myself - What am I gonna do with a paint brush? Paint whoever the hell is in my house to death?
Another thud sounds, this time, I jump. I just need to man - Or should I say woman? - up and find out what's in my room.
I inch forward to my door, letting out small and raspy breaths. I don't even know why I'm so nervous. It could be nothing.. But then again, it could be something.
I stop in front of my door and pull myself together before I reach out and rest my hand on the door knob. I do it all in one fluid motion, not giving myself enough time to panic, and slam open the door. I immediately raise up my fist, ready to punch out any intruder. But there's no one in my room. It's completely empty.
