The Good Girl's Return

Twenty

(Twenty chapters already. This book is almost over. Wow.)

Dedicated to sociaIcxsuaIty

.

It's been five days.

And at the moment, I'm hella drunk, so I could care less.

I was against Andrew with a drunken smile on my face, on the stage with a whole lotta other V.I.Ps. At this club, on the stage, V.I.Ps dance on the stage, instead of in the mass of bodies.

This club consists of dangerous people. So dancing against Andrew, he had no problem showing his love of knives as he had the backs of two running along my skin.

We've been staying on the low, but tonight he offered to take me out. Now, I'm drunk, pressed against him, his knives skimming my body.

What I didn't expect came about an hour into dancing.

I look around the crowd with a drunken smile, laughing as his knives tickle my skin.

My face lands on Ryder's who watches the knives skim across my skin. He looks up and meets my eyes. My smile is gone at once. He presses a button in his hand, and my eyes widen. I pull on Andrew.

"They're here! We have to get out!" I say. He puts the knives away while we run through the crowd. Gunshots go off. People drop, but we continue, hiding behind things. I grab a microphone I see laying stray on a counter.

"Kehlani Stevenson! Andrew Holfstead! Surrender yourselves now!" A commanding voice shouts over the the crowd. I smile at Andrew, lifting the microphone. He nods, laughing quietly.

"I'm fucked up, I'm black and blue." I sing.

"Stop singing and get the hell out from wherever you are! Now!" The voice shouts.

"I'm built for it; all the abuse. I got secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows." I continue.

"You have to the count of three until we find you! Mr. Holfstead, we will no hesitate to shoot you if you attempt to kidnap her again!" My dad's voice calls out this time. I think for a second, and an old, old song comes to mind.

"Oh I know that it's getting late, but I don't wanna go home." I sing the 80's song merrily into the mic. I hear the sounds of several, several footsteps. I peak out to see the crowds exiting the building. They all are out in seconds. Shit.

"Reveal yourselves now!" The commanding voice calls.

"Is that what you say to your wife in bed? Bet she doesn't like that too much." I say into the mic. Andrew chokes with laughter, trying to be quiet, and the mic catches it.

"They're together! Go find them, now!"

I look over to Andrew and turn off the mic. "Dad, act 17!" I whisper. He smiles and takes the knife out. I step out of the hiding place. He follows and puts an arm around my waist, then to my stomach, his knife. The cops stop at the sight. I sway in his arms, as if there's still music and I'm dancing. Everyone gets panicked expressions.

"Don't do this, Mr. Holfstead." A voice calls out. I turn the mic on and bring it to my lips.

"You got me hooked up on the feeling." I sing extra dramatically. "You got me hanging from the ceiling! Got me up so high I'm barely breathing. So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me go.." I sing, then throw the mic. A loud screech goes off, causing people to cover their eyes.

"Mr. Holfstead, if we get you, you know what this means? The attempt on someone's life, you'll be pressed charges on for rape, be put in jail for a long time." Someone calls out. I snort.