Super Bad (Completed 2013)

‡ Chapter 23 ‡

'Warrior' by Demi Lovato perfectly symbolizes the previous chapter and this chapter. 

It's been on repeat and has been my inspiration to keep on writing.  It's Jessie's song <3

Fun fact: While writing this on Microsoft Word, I had to change the font to make me feel more badass while writing.

That makes me cool. 

So cool. 

If not. 

Deal with it.

Smile people!

I'm feeling capricious.  Sorry.  I'm not sorry.

Sorry.

PLEASE VOTE!! <3

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Chapter 23: I'm finally naming a chapter: The Title

  

+This chapter is NOT EDITED.++

I bet if you went through half the shit I've gone through, you wouldn't know what to do with your life. 

That is—if it was your life.  Life as a lie, your first lover being a lie, the family that was interested in what you did and paid attention to you was all a lie, and lastly, someone you trusted the most lied their identity to you.

Have I ever mentioned the life of a gang member involves trusting no one?  There was a knife behind every back. 

Luckily, I had a strong sixth sense and was now able to see the knife before it struck again.

I hoped. 

The hot shower didn't help melt off the shaken feelings.  I tried thinking back to when I saw the undercover Eagle, checking for any signs of how they could have been the double agent, but they were too good.  I would have never guessed.  I just hoped that Eagle was safe because although they were a pain in my ass, I realized they were trying to get close to me; wanting to build a trust that would hopefully resurface once the Eagle comes back home. 

If they ever do. 

"I would sure hope so.  I do need someone to talk to that I can trust," I said aloud. 

The creamy walled bathroom smelling of lavender, I hugged the towel and stepped to the mirror.  Scrubbing to reveal my reflection, I dropped my towel and took in the differences.  My eyes curved over the erratic humps down my waist and sudden lumps across my previously flattened chest.  The scars and bruises played no affect in decreasing the perfection, legs more toned and arms thicker rather than my earlier twigs. 

"Wildcat?  Can you come out?"

I leapt out of my skin and made quick work with the pale nightgown and wrestled the knotty hair into a bun. 

Stumbling into the bedroom, I saw Romane sitting on my bed holding two glasses full of—

"Wine?"  Perplexed, I stalked over and asked, "What's the occasion?" 

Dressed in white silk pyjamas, he elevated a quick shrug and said, "Shall I remind you how I always forget how young you are?"  I did a playful, thanking curtsey before clutching the wine glass and took a seat next to him.  "Alcohol, wildcat, is the remedy to every problem that involves stress.  A surprise you weren't expecting and sure as hell didn't enjoy.  Alcohol.  Shitty day?  Alcohol." 

I wagered my finger.  "Not true.  Alcohol also leads to addiction.  Plus, stress is a daily emotion so if I had a glass each time I wanted to yank my hair out, I think I'd be an alcoholic."