5| Forced

26.9K 493 219
                                    

[edited]

This bitch

Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.

This bitch.

I glare over at Ezra as his grin only grows. "If you would have listened to me, you wouldn't be tied. Would you?"

"Get in." Ezra pulls the door of the black SUV open.

I huffed, staying in the same spot. "Fine, then I'll do it myself." He grunted.

"I'm going to kill you." I snap at him. "Hmm, we'll see about that, Mia Dea." He snickers.

Translation(My goddess.)

Oh, I hate him.

"Bitch." I mumbled. "What amore, you have something to say?" He tilts his head to the side with a grin.

"Yeah. You. Are . A. Little. Bitch!" I spat it out. His grin drops.

One arm going under my knees, then his other on my back as he picks me up bridal style. Placing me in the car. "Put me down you intolerant little shit."

"Listen, Nevaeh, before you start messing with me, you should know I don't play games; I win them."
He says this before slamming the door in my face.

He gets in the back seat and tells the driver something in Italian.

"I'll let you knew Mr. Bitch. That I love games. So we'll see who's wins." I say as I try my best to get comfortable in the back seat.


***

My eyes flutter open. I notice I am still in the back of the car; the car is parked and Ezra is not in it. I look out the window to see where we are.

Fuck you, universe.

I look out the other window and see a black jet. "Fucking kill me." I grumble, slamming my head onto the back of my seat.

The door opens. "Out," Ezra orders. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm not going on that goddamn plane; are you crazy?" I yelled.

Ezra's eyebrows raise. "Yes I am and yes your are. Now out."

At least he admits it.

I hope this plane crashes and you are on it.

After being forced onto the jet, I take a seat. "Where are you taking me?" I ask blankly, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Italy," he says, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

How the hell is there a hole in an ass bar in here? "You can't take me to Italy; I have a family and a dog!" I say, walking over to him.

"They'll be fine." He brushes me off. "You asshole!" I shouted. Pushing on his chest, feeling he was pure muscle under all those layers of clothes.

Fucking Jesus Christ.

"Go sit your ass down." Heh, fuck you. You don't scare me. "Or what?" With my words, he gripped my jaw, not tight enough to hurt me, just so that I was looking at him and him only.

His Addiction Opowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz