Living With The Gangleader ✓

thirty-eight

**This chapter will contain some mature content during flashback two so here's the trigger warning to that specific part in the chapter, the rest is fine just thought I should give you guys a heads up**

Please hurry Ry I miss you and I think I love you.

Wait. Do I really mean that?

The L word..

It's a very powerful word to use, to say about someone or to someone. It has so much meaning and strength behind it, so much emotion. It could make someone burst with happiness but could easily crush them causing so much pain and heartache.

Now the thing that brings me to a possible realisation that I could possibly be in love with the gang leader is the simple fact that he is my knight in shining armour.

Well gang leader in a leather jacket.

I'm sorry for the cringe but it's true, he really is my beautiful knight in his sterling silver armour, up on his white horse. Well black motorbike but same thing, right?

He saved me; you can't deny that. He rescued me from years of abuse and torture, from my own father. He did all of that without knowing and there's hardly anything I could do show him how grateful and appreciative I am for it.

I still remember the first time my father had hurt me; It wasn't long after mum died, I was still mourning over her death I was still so young.

(First flashback)

Seven years ago

It would have had to be at least almost a month since mum was killed in the car crash. I was still a crying mess at night, every night since that night I have dreamt about her, about the accident. It crushed me every night and it didn't help that dad hardly even looked at me, I figured that I look too much like her and if he even dared to catch a glimpse of me he would break down into a teary mess.

It hurt because I knew that he loved me and that he wouldn't be so heartless to leave me alone and mourn by myself. I wished that he would come up and at least check to see how I was going at least.

But he never did.

I remained in my room for what felt like years but was only a few weeks, when he came home drunk one night.

"Flo!" I remembered him slurring as he had slammed the front door shut.

I rushed down the stairs to see what he wanted, I hoped that he would straight away engulf me with a hug and tell me that everything was going to be okay. That everything would get better.

But it was the complete opposite.

The strong stench of alcohol had burned my nose as I came face to face with the man that I loved and called dad. His staunch body wobbled unsteadily towards me, he grabbed onto me and used me as something to lean on.

"It should have been you." he slurred.

I didn't understand, what does he mean it should have been me?

"Dad? What do you mean?" I asked him as I helped him onto the couch.

"You're too stupid to know." he scoffed.

"No I'm not." I said softly.

I was depressed for sure but I wasn't stupid, I was quiet smart actually, even with the death of my mother I was still getting As in class.

"Yes, you are, your dumb, an idiot and not worthy to be my daughter, this is all your fault, you killed her!" he yelled throwing a ceramic vase at me.