Dark Intentions

|4. Nothing hurts like a frying pan|

*not edited*

Hi lovelies,

I hope you're all well. Here's another chapter especially for you x

Lots of love,

Rose x

|4.|

Once I managed to stop showering myself with praise over my dramatic frying pan wielding skills, I quickly realised that Aaron was still bound on the floor, trying to get my attention through his muffled screams. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he continued to writhe around on the floor, bound legs kicking out for help.

   "Oh shit! Oh Aaron..." I quickly dropped to my knees and untied his arms and then helped take his balled up shirt from his mouth.

  "Oh god... are you alright?" I ask, quickly pulling him into a hug. The poor man was gasping for air, his brown cheeks turning a dark crimson. Dried tears streaked his cheeks, his eyes rimmed red as he clutched onto me for dear life.

Aaron continues to hyperventilate, no surprise since the man just had a gun to his head and all I could do was gently rub his back, reassuring him that he was fine and safe.

  "No..No...I'm not safe-I'm not safe!" He pulls away quickly from my arms and with shaking hands attempts to undo the restraints around his leg.

  "Argh! Fuck!" He exclaims in frustration when his trembling fingers make it difficult for him to undo them. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Fresh tears roll down his cheeks, his whole body now shaking.

  "Ok...Ok, here-let me help." I push away his hands and within a few quick movements the rope around his feet falls apart and Aaron jumps to his feet, wobbling at first since his legs had gone dead from the lack of blood supply.

With no other explanation, Aaron limps into his bedroom. I follow behind quickly, casting a wary look at the unconscious man still on Aarons living room floor. 

  "Aaron, what the hell was that? Who is that man? Why is he in your house and why the fuck was he holding you at gunpoint?"

My frantic questions fall on dead ears as Aaron desperately searches his room before pulling a suitcase from under his bed, opening it and then quickly proceeding to stuff it with all the his belongings that he could get his hands on.

Being very aware that the attempted murderer was still in the apartment, I marched over to Aaron and grabbed him by his shoulders, forcing him to stop moving and to look me in the eyes.

  "What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?" I ask, enunciating every single word. I felt like I was slowly losing my mind and my fake fiancé was hiding something from me.

Something that was clearly very dangerous and life threatening. Something, that meant I had to knock out a man with a gun using a frying pan.

Aarons dark eyes flick around the room, refusing to meet mine and then when my grip got tighter on his shoulder, he gave in.

  "I'm in a little bit of trouble." He admits making me roll my eyes in annoyance.

  "Really? I never would have guessed." I reply sarcastically.

He gulps and his whole body tenses in preparation for his next words.

  "I owe someone some money." He explains and while I'm surprised by his words, I urge him to keep explaining.

  "But I don't have it and now he wants it back."

I let my hands drop from his shoulders as I step away. My mind spins like a tumble dryer as I take in his words.