The Spanish Bad Ass

Chapter Twenty three: Fifty eight seconds more.

How did you get so cold,
Enough to chill my bones.
It feels like I don't know you anymore,
I do t understand why you're so cold to me,
With every breath, I breathe,
I see there's something going on,
I don't understand why you're so cold〰️ Maroon 5

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It was annoying, infuriating, nerve-wracking and all other emotions that had to do with anger you could think of and even come up with. It had been one week one entire week everyone literally everyone... well excluding Addison had come to give their own fair share of bullshit but that son of a bitch couldn't find the decency to try to explain himself so what if I destroyed his stupid face he definitely deserved it.

I ranted on to myself grunting as I once again, like I always did, took out my frustration on my poor punching bag. I had almost divided my dartboard into two halves during my target practice so I completely found that useless now but it just sickened me I mean he was so cowardly sending his friends to do all the work for him.

"I'm sure I could guess which you're picturing on that punching bag." My mouth immediately formed into a deep frown as I snorted at the deep voice by my bedroom window, my lips twitching bitterly.

Son of a bitch.

"Careful man..." Dallas called out to him. "You should have seen what she did to the last one." He finished nodding his head warningly.

"Last one." I could hear the panic in his voice and it almost made me smile but never did I take my eyes off the punching bag and not for a second did I stop.

"What do you want." I sneered at Ian not bothering to give him the luxury of turning around.

There was silence and I was honestly tempted to carve his heart out.

"Your room is really weird you know... for a girl's room forgot to mention that the last time I was here maybe because we met under tempting circumstances." I could feel his smirk and all I wanted to do was wipe it straight off his face not the same way most people meant they'd want to... no I meant the more sadistic, painful way.

Ramona had used that same line to taunt me since I was old enough to make decisions which was around 5. I always hated her for it and so it simply irritated me when people commented on my unique style. My parents thought it was a phase but it clearly wasn't which was why my mom had chosen me instead of Ramona who was about four or five years older than me because she knew I would be just great now I definitely wasn't a goth but at the same time I wasn't an all pinkies either.

"Que diablos está as haciendo. (what the fuck are you doing here)." I hissed out in Spanish since it was clear he didn't understand English.

"I came to talk to you."

I kept punching until I felt my hands go numb the thing was I didn't use gloves for this never saw the need but with the rate, I was getting bruises anyone who saw my hands would either think I was suicidal or would instantly want to pay his/her tributes to the other person. When I was sure that I couldn't feel my hands again, I sighed and turned around to face him adjusting my ponytail.

"I have nothing to say to you, neither do I want to talk to you about anything except some burial ideas for yourself you may have so you might as well leave before my dream actually comes through," I said sarcastically sweetly and then batting my eyelashes at him for extra effects.

He looked horrified for a second and quickly recovered it smirking. "You won't at least hear what I have to say." He said raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at me.