My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Diecisiete

Chapter 17

I sometimes hate Arsen Reed.

Actually, no, scratch that, I hate him all of the time.

The fricking idiot doesn't even give me his number! God, everyone except him gave me their numbers.

It's not like he's special or anything.

I honestly feel like punching something right now. I feel like punching him right now.

I knew Dorian would wake up any second. I mean, maybe I hit him a little too hard, but that's not the problem, the problem is, if he woke up again, I'd definitely not be able to escape.

At all.

I tiptoed out of his bedroom and made my way down the long hallway filled with doors, and finally found the staircase.

I was about to go down it when I heard voices and immediately hid behind a tall, thick pillar holding up the roof.

Cool.

"You think so?" Someone says in a hushed tone. 

I freeze, the voice sounding a lot like Tall-cake.

"Yeah. Remember when we saw her? She was in front of some Xena Jacox girl's graveyard," 

I furrow my eyebrows, wondering what they're on about.

"So she lied?"

"Yeah, I'm guessing."

"Fuck, she probably fooled Dori, too. He's a bloody idiot. Come on!"

Then, I hear their footsteps running past me in the direction of Dorian's bedroom. I stand there for a second, completely frozen in place.

They are much more clever than I thought they were. They know who I am!

I fumble for my phone, then remember I don't have Arsen's number.

I put it away and scoff.

"I don't need him anyway, I can do this on my own," I mutter to myself, and quickly rush down the huge staircase.

Once I'm down, I desperately look to my right and then to my left.

Which room am I supposed to go in?!

Finally deciding, I slowly push open the first door on my right and pop my head in.

Empty.

It's a magnificent room, though. 

The colours that have been set out are peach and off-white, giving off an old, vintage type impression. I walk in, and my clumped feet sink into the soft carpet.

Impressive for a bunch of dirty kidnappers. I've only seen, what, five people here? And still, it's empty as hell. 

Why do just five people need this much space, anyway?

To answer my question, I hear the booming of men's laughter coming from a closed door inside of the frilly room, and I stiffen, immediately looking around for someplace to hide.

Oh, shit. Where do I hide?!

Unfortunately for me, my life hates everything that has anything to do with the person Xanthe Jacox. And almost as if karma wants to pay me back for all the sins I've committed, I hear voices from behind me, too.

"Excellent," I hiss under my breath, looking around frantically to find a hiding spot.

My eyes lock onto a long table with a huge tablecloth draped on top of it.