The Bad Boy has seen my Scars

Decisions

Olivia's POV
When Owen re-enters the dark bathroom his usual smirk is on his face. He licks his lips while looking up and down my barely covered body. I cross my arms.

"Let's go" I huff and try to walk forward. Owen sticks his arm out, holding me in place. I look up at him.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks in a low voice and I shudder.

"To meet with my mom" I snap back. Not caring for the consequences. Owen is still smirking.

"God do I love your fire baby" he whispers into my ear. I try to step away from him but his arm around my waist is holding me firmly in place. He towers over me.

"Come on" I beg. Hating the situation I'm in.

"Kiss me and I'll think about it," he says. I gulp.

"What if I don't," I ask.

"Then we'll be here awhile and I like it when you're close," he says in what I'm assuming he thinks is in a charming way.

"Fine" I role my eyes. Leaning in a bit I give him a quick peck. I struggle against his grip.

"I gave you what you want," I say. Struggling against his arms.

"Baby that wasn't a kiss" he whisper. Before I know it my lips are being overtaken by his. I struggle at first but then remember the deal we made to keep Ashley safe. So reluctantly I kiss back. He pushes me back so that I'm trapped between him and the sink. He pulls back.

"That was a kiss baby," he says before kissing the still very visible love bite on my neck. Pulling at the skin with his teeth a bit before pulling away. Still smirking.

"Can we go?" I ask. Sighing. He nods and roughly grabs my forearm and pulls me forward. We walk towards the now familiar pair of double doors.

"Do you know what's going on?" I ask. Owen just shrugs. He pushes the double doors open and pushes me inside before entering himself. My mother is surrounded by a whole bunch of people all looking scared out of their minds. She spots us.

"Oh good you're finally here," she says before turning to a small woman next to her. I look at Owen who pushes me forward towards the crowd of people. I stumble a bit and turn to glare at him. When we get close the people surrounding my mother part so that we have a clear path towards my mother. She looks up at us.

"Periwinkle or beige?" She asks. I'm taken aback.

"What?" I ask. Confused.

"Napkin color. Periwinkle or beige?" She asks again.

"Umm I-I" I stutter unsure of how to answer. My mother sighs and turns back towards the frightened woman.

"Go beige. I want 300 in the shape of a lions head before noon tomorrow." She commands. The woman nods and scuttles off. Probably to start the lion head project. Mother then turns towards the man holding a tray of glassware.

"Why am I here?" I ask confused as to what's going on.

"We're picking the things for your wedding" mother replies in a duh tone. "These," she says. Pointing to a wine glass. The man nods. He too scuttles off.

"What if I don't want to?" I ask her. She turns to me sharply. Almost knocking poor table cloth woman down.

"You don't have a choice," she says. "Off white" She commands the woman who nods and disappears behind the other set of double doors in the room.

"You seem to be making most of these decisions" I observe. Mother roles her eyes.

"Owen" she snaps her fingers. He rushes towards her like a dog. I roll my eyes at his willingness towards her.

"Yes?" He asks.

"Take her back" mother commands and fear fills my eyes.

"No, wait" I plead just as Owen's about to take me back to the prison.

"Is there anything that'll keep me out of that room" I plead. Mother looks at me with a smirk.

"Chocolate or strawberry?" She asks. I'm confused.

"What?" I ask. She rolls her eyes.

"What kind of cake do you want? Answer and you don't have to go back" she replies. It seems to be an innocent question but I see the motive. Giving a decision is me saying that this wedding is going to happen. I sigh. Not wanting to be thrown back into the damp dark hell.

"Chocolate," I say quietly.

"What was that?" Mother asks. Teasing me in my predicament.

"Chocolate," I say. My voice is stronger.

"Good. I want three tiers and white icing. I need three of them made." she replies before turning to a man and snapping her fingers. He scuttles away. Owen lets me go and gives me a pat on the butt. I glare at him.

The rest of the day consists of Mother asking questions and me answering them dejectedly. She smirks every time I do. Knowing I've given up. By the end of the day she instructs Owen not to put me in the prison, but to put me in a room. Once Owen closes the door I break down. Sad that Dylan didn't come. Sad that I'm getting married to a pervert tomorrow. Sad that I'll never be saved and sad that I've given up on myself.