The Revolution (On Hold)

Chapter 4: Kicked out

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

The Revolution

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

The Revolution

Chapter 4: Kicked out

If I'm going to be stuck in my room than I may as well make use of my time. The only thing missing as I do my bicycle crunches on the cold wooden floor is music blasting in the background. Luckily I still have my coloured sports bras and tight black leggings sitting in my drawers.

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . . Twenty," I shift my position and move onto the torso twist sit-ups.

"One, two, three . . . Four," I continue the count as the door clicks open and closes again. I can tell by the creaking of the heavy footsteps that it's Bass.

"Here's your breakfast," I hear the slight clang as the tray is placed on the vanity although I don't stop moving.

I don't mind cold eggs on toast.

"Thanks."

Seven, eight, nine . . . Ten. I count silently until Bass steps in front of me with an annoyed expression on his face.

"What?" I ask as I sit up straight; panting and slightly out of breath.

"Your eggs are getting cold," he extends his hand and I can tell something is bothering him by the look in his blue eyes.

"What happened?" I ask and take his hand. Bass easily lifts me to my feet, but a little too eagerly and I collide with his body.

It's too comforting.

"What do you mean?" Bass pretends he has no idea what I'm talking about . . . Shocker there.

"What happened?" I ask again and Bass lets go of his grip and takes a step back away from me.

"Eat your breakfast."

"I'll eat my breakfast if you answer my question?" I propose a deal and grab the plate of toast and eggs, and sit on the edge of the bed waiting for his answer.

"Eat your breakfast or don't eat your breakfast. I don't care," Bass shrugs before he heads for the door.

Okay what the hell? I place the plate beside me before I stand to my feet and grab Bass; forcing him to look at me.

"Talk to me."

"I don't take orders from other people; I'm the General remember?"

"Bass?" I plead and a few very long moments of silence follow.

This isn't awkward at all.

"Jeremy is dead," The anger contorts on his face.

"What?"

Jeremy is . . . Was Miles and Bass's oldest friend.

"He was shot," Bass avoids eye contact and I know there is a lot more to the story. I just hope my instincts are wrong.

I've got a bad feeling Bass is responsible.

"What aren't you telling me?" I ask before I tie my long dark hair in a ponytail with the elastic band that was sitting around my wrist until just moments ago.

"Stop doing that," Bass steps away from me again, but I quickly move and use myself as a barricade and block the door.

"Doing what?"