CRIMINAL.

CHAPTER 4

I'm sitting on the couch with my knees pulled up to my chest, watching the news. Nothing comes up about a girl named Katelyn Rivers. Nothing at all. Just car accidents, weather reports, and other useless crap.

I knew that no one knew I was gone. A part of me always did, but another part of me, deep inside my heart, hoped that they knew, that they would care. My mom didn't even really care that I was caught in the middle of that bank robbery three years ago. I push that thought away.

'Don't think like that, Katelyn,' I tell myself. 'Of course she cared! You saw her face after she pulled up to the bank.'

I still remember her face: Shocked, scared, guilty. She had tears streaming down her face. Kristen was in the back, her expression confused, worried, and terrified.

But that was back then.

This is now.

Nothing's changed.

I'm yanked out of my thoughts when Ricky plops down on the couch next to me.

I look at him for a minute or two, taking in the way the afternoon sun pouring through the blinds turns his chocolate hair golden along with his skin.

Yesterday, after he introduced me to everyone in the living room and kitchen, he showed me the rooms: The basement, the bedrooms, and bathrooms, and the gun rooms. The gun rooms are the ones that scare me the most. There are two; one in Josh's room and one in Ricky's room which is the one next to the bathroom. There's a bed in there along with a dresser and a lamp, but there are guns hanging on the walls. All different kinds; pistols, bazookas, rifles, machine guns. And not just guns; there are knives there too. I don't why considering there are knives in the kitchen, but Ricky explained that those are knives for cutting and slicing. The knives up on the wall are for cutting. The knives in the gun room are made for killing.

Ricky looks at me and I feel the whole world disappear as I look into his eyes.

I couldn't help myself, keeping my past away from him after he told me his, so during the tour, we had sat down in his room with the door to the gun room closed since it paranoid me and I had told him about what high school I went to, what college I went to, that my mom is a workaholic, and about Kristen. I hope that she's alright. What I liked is that he didn't question any of it. He just stared at me, silent, listening to every word I said. He waited patiently for me to finish speaking every time I broke off with tears in my eyes. I remember when he touched my hand after it. I can still feel his touch burning on the top of my hand.

"Hi," Ricky simply says, pulling me out of my thoughts once more.

"Hi," I say. I meant to say it more bravely, but it comes out small and squeaky. Ricky always leaves me breathless even though I just met him.

His lips curl up into a smile at my response.

What is wrong with me? This is the boy that kidnapped me. Well, not really, but this is the boy that planned it. 'But he did it to find you,' the hopeless romantic part of me says. 'He's in love with you, Katelyn. The least you could do is give him a chance. And it's only been one day.'

I yawn, my eyes closing as I do. I hear Ricky chuckle and it makes my heart thump faster.

"You tired?" he asks and I shake my head, but he's already up. "

You want to go upstairs?" he asks.

"No," I say, a little too quickly and a little too loudly. "I-I mean, yes, but-"

"You're afraid of the gun room," he finishes for me.

I duck my head down, red with embarrassment and shame. I am afraid of that room. Last night, when Ricky said I could sleep in his room, I blushed, thinking that he was going to sleep in the same bed with me. But he had said that he would sleep in the gun room, giving me personal space, when really I didn't want any personal space. Even though the door to the gun room was closed, I was still afraid of it. Afraid that someone, not Ricky, would go into that room and kill me in my sleep. I don't why I didn't think Ricky would do it. It is a possibility.

"It's okay," Ricky says. "We could sleep down here."

"We?" I ask.

"Well, I'm not leaving you alone down here," he says and sits back down.

He takes his black tank top off and throws it somewhere. I'm not paying attention to where he throws it. I'm paying more attention to his tattoos.

I see a wolf tattooed on his ribcage which I assume must be because of the name of his street gang. It's fur is ink black, its eyes are red and glowing, and its teeth are dripping with blood. I catch snippets of names and lyrics I recognize from songs, designs and words.

I know he catches me looking because he says, "Like what you see, baby girl?" I blush because he caught me, but mostly because of the nickname. No one's ever called me that before. Not even Mom.

"I-"

I don't know what to say. My throat is dry and scratchy.

I'm thankful when Ricky laughs.

"I'm just kidding," he says. "Aw, you're blushing." That makes me blush even more. The room suddenly feels too warm, My shirt suddenly too revealing.

"You're so cute when you're flustered," Ricky says and I freeze, lifting my head up.

"What?" I stutter.

He looks at me, the corners of his mouth turning up in a devilish smile that makes me explode. "I said you're-" He cuts off, leaning in all the way until he's right beside my ear. "Cute," he whispers, the word ghosting over my earlobe.

My blood runs cold in my veins, my heart pausing for an instant. "O-Oh," I stutter, not sure what else to say. I've never had anyone, not even a boy, say that I was cute before.

He giggles, and I swear it's the most gorgeous thing I've ever heard from a boy. It's not girly or high or silly. It's light and perfect yet deep and smooth like his voice in general.

He leans back, stretching his arms up and behind his head.

"So...do you have a boyfriend?" he asks.

I look at him, surprised.

The question caught me completely off guard.

"You mean back in Seattle?" I ask and he nods once.

"No," I answer honestly. "I've, uh, never actually had a boyfriend before."

That answer must please him because he grins and drapes his arms across the back of the couch. His right arm isn't touching me, but I can feel heat radiating off of it. I've never been more attracted to a boy before. Does he know how enticing I find him?

'Stop it, Katelyn!' my mind shouts. 'He's the one who planned your kidnapping! You can't be falling for him. Plus, it's only been the second day!'

I listen to my mind, but I don't move away. Even though I know it's wrong, I want to feel his touch.

"So you going to sleep or what?" he asks in a teasing voice.

As soon as he says that, I feel my muscles start to hurt and my eyes grow heavy. I don't want to lay on his lap or chest or anything (even though it would probably feel really good).

I lay down on the arm of the couch, away from Ricky and close my eyes, but before sleep can consume me, I feel warmness on my cheek and freeze.

Did Ricky kiss me?

I can't think; my mind is fuzzy with sleep and I give into it, falling into a peaceful sleep.