𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❹ • ⊘

His brown eyes lock with mine for a split second, and I quickly turn away to distract myself from his sudden gaze.

Everything about this situation screams danger, yet I'm too deeply involved to just walk away as if nothing happened—at least right now since the police are searching the area. It would be stupid to leave now, knowing what awaits me outside, so my best bet is to stay here and wait it out.

"You should probably get some sleep while you can. We're going to be here for a while anyway," he moves his arms behind his head.

"I'm not falling asleep next to a stranger, especially one with a criminal record," I admit, raising my eyebrow when he chuckles at my comment.

"In case you already forgot, this stranger," he points to himself, "Saved your ass from being driven straight to the police station, so I don't think you need to worry about me." Despite him saying that I do.

I searched for him to confront him, not to follow him inside an abandoned building.

My attention shifts away from the thought when I hear a soft hum come from his side of the room.

I notice how his black tee shirt exposes some of his lower abdomen to my very eyes. He sits comfortably in a relaxed position while letting his eyes shut in comfort. "It's not nice to stare at others," he smirks.

"Well, it's not nice to ruin people's livelihoods, either," I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest while ignoring the way my heart picks up from being caught.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I guess we're both not very nice people then," his tone is shushed, yet coated in a husky whisper.

"Are you always this smug?" I move into a comfortable sitting position, letting my back rest against the wall despite wanting to lay down from lack of sleep.

"It suits me. Why? Expecting something different?" He teases. I watch his smile droop into a face of boredom when I don't answer.

Honestly, I was expecting something different. I was expecting an arrogant asshole who gets a thrill out of hurting others in any way possible. He does make people lose their businesses after all.

"I thought you'd be more of an ass, to be honest," I finally admit, placing my chin in my palm.

"And? Am I?" I can hear the amusement in his tone when I explain.

"I don't know yet. Right now, you're the guy who's making my family struggle," this time, his amusing tone disappears quickly, but I don't feel bad nor should I.

If my father wasn't so lucky to get that job, then we would be looking for somewhere else to live by now. All the money we had saved up was stolen thanks to his crew. What little we have left over is saved only for the bills. That is if he hasn't spent it since I've been gone.

"For what it's worth, I think your father is to blame just as much as I am. I just exposed the truth." He opens his eyes, facing the window. "I wonder what the others are doing tonight. I bet they're at the street race again." A distant smile pulls at the edges of his lips, and it pisses me off.

How can he be so happy knowing he's putting people out of work? Because of him, some families have no way to make money—families with innocent children. Despite the owner's crime or lack of morals, why take down the rest of the family members with them? It's not right—not right at all.