Down The Train Tracks. ~Ch.11 ["Did I betray him?"]

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“Jason!” I screamed. “Please stop! Jason, oh my God. Please stop!” I yelled.

“Nope,” he laughed.

Two minutes ago, we were in Jason’s bed joking around, and I said something teasingly to him. Now, I’m flung over one of his shoulders while he’s running down the stairs. This is terrifying.

“Jason!”

“That’s it, baby. Scream my name for me.”

“Okay, asshole!” I shouted even louder. “You better put me down right now, or I swear to God, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” He cut me off. I could tell he was smirking, I couldn’t see his face, but I knew by the tone of his voice that he was enjoying every bit of this.

It’s been a week and a half since my ‘breakdown’; I suppose you could call it. Jason and I have been getting on really well. I want to hate him, I do, but I just can’t. I can’t possibly hate him, I keep thinking about what he’s been through, and it explains a lot about the Jason who kidnapped me, but not this Jason.

Jason McCann is the guy who kidnapped me; the guy who’s been joking around with me for almost two weeks is just Jason. Jason is very sweet with a good sense of humour, he missed out on a lot of his childhood, as did I, which I guess is why we’re so good together. We can be kids together, even though I guess I am still a kid, being only fifteen, but he hasn’t asked, so I haven’t told him…

I know once I do tell him that I’ve been lying to him, he’ll be Jason McCann again, so I’m just not going to mention it. He can find out for his self, or not find out at all.

“Let me go!” I paused after every word. Letting one hand loose from the grip I had on his green t-shirt, I slapped his butt. Seen as it was the only thing I could see right now. Of course, he has denim jeans on, but you get what I mean…

“No!” He replied in the same tone as me, doing the same thing as me. He smacked my butt that was cocked over his shoulder.

I growled, this boy just causes never ending frustration in my life. I didn’t even know where he was running to anymore, but I’m just glad we’re off the stairs to be honest.

I felt myself being placed down on a cold, smooth surface. Looking around, I realized we were in the kitchen; I was sitting on the counter by the sink.

“Finally,” I sighed, Jason was in front of me, his hands holding each of my legs by his sides.  He was pressed up against the counter, leaning his head closer into me.

When I was sitting up here, I was finally the same height as him, our faces directly in front of each other’s. He smirked at me, looking down at my lips.

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’.

“What?” He asked innocently, still smirking. I held his face in my hands; my hands holding his cheeks, making him look at me. I had a serious expression on my face, making his expression turn serious as well.

“Don’t ever touch my butt again,” I said, still serious. All seriousness left his face as I finished my sentence; he smirked again, looking down. He leaned his forehead down against my chin, putting his hands on the small of my back.

“Jason,” I warned. He moved his head so that it was directly in front of mine once again.  His hands began to slowly move lower and lower. “Don’t,” there was a hint of warning in my sharp voice. This made him smirk more, his hands were low enough now, and his grip got a tiny bit tighter, squeezing his hands slightly.

“Get your hands off,” I closed my eyes.

“Or what?” He asked, teasingly.

“Or I’ll bite your nose,” I spoke seriously, he chuckled.

Down The Train Tracks *Jason McCann*Where stories live. Discover now