NIGHTMARE

chapter 14

I think he could handle a few hushed words to dent his abnormally large and shitty ego.

But apparently not.

In a second, he had pulled his gun from his pocket and held it squarely in the middle of my forehead.

His glare remained cold and heartless, as if he would have no trouble at all pulling the trigger on me, like it would mean nothing of any sort.

"Continue to disrespect me like this, you little whore, and I'll have your head on my shelf by tomorrow morning." He hissed through gritted teeth as my chest tightened.

I was growing all too familiar with the feeling of my heart racing.

I gave a brief nod, and he scoffed.

"Good," he tapped his foot impatiently, "now, after we finish this conversation, you are going to go straight downstairs and to Ran. You'll start your training today, and after that, you'll be marked." He told me coldly, and my heart skipped about seven beats.

"Marked?" What the fuck? I was so confused.

"Do you have a hearing problem, whore? Yes, marked, you are the property of the Bonten; we're going to brand you." He smiled a cold and discomforting smile; it sent chills down my spine.

"No, no, no," I held my finger in front of his face, "I'm not apart of your little girl scouts group; you can sell cookies without me." I let out a chuckle of nervous laughter; I was scared to sh*t right now.

"Shut the fuck up. This isn't a girl scouts group. It's the fucking Bonten, and it's very real. You're lucky you have a purpose here, or I would have killed you already just to shut you up. In case you've forgotten, you're here to stand by my side and look pretty. To do that, you need to be marked so that the men here know who the fuck you are. Unless you want people taking shots at your head every time you walk around the corner, then I suggest you do what you're told."

Fucking ass hole.

I felt a rising pressure building in my throat; my anxiety was going to make me sick.

Every time I felt the lump in my throat rise, I knew I had to shove it back down. 

There was no point in arguing; I had no choice in the matter.

There was a knock on the door, and Ran let himself in, turning his head between the two of us, waiting for something to be said and waiting for his fair share of information.

The devil stood at the door, holding it open, telling me silently to get the fuck out.

"Go, I'll talk to you later." He gave me a sharp nod before Ran latched onto my arm and half dragged me outside the door.

His nails dug into my skin, and I winced.

"If that hurts you, then you're in for one hell of a show today." He chuckled under his breath sadistically.

My steps faltered as my legs went to cave in from the rising fear that weighed me down inside.

I was going to fucking die.

Either that, or I would come out so battered and bruised that you wouldn't even be able to tell what was in my eye from my nose.

I was going to get pretty screwed up.

I had the sneaking suspicion that my kind of training wouldn't be his kind of training.

He pulled me down the stairs and then down another six flights of stairs.

How big was this fucking castle?

We stopped outside a metal and windowless door.

I gulped.

"Uh, Ran, how am I going to train in a sweatshirt without pants?" I shifted awkwardly on my feet.

His eyes trailed down my body, and looking at my exposed legs, I pulled the shirt farther down.

"There are clothes for you inside." He unlocked the door and led me inside, throwing me a duffle bag full of clothes.

The room itself was full of mats, punching bags, exercise machines, and lifting machines.

It was a full-on gym.

"Get changed," he ordered firmly.

I nodded and opened the bag.

Inside were a pair of runners, Nike shorts, and a sports bra.

Of course, there was nothing more modest in here; I was inside a fucking Bonten compound.

I watched as he turned around to give me some privacy.

I noticed a pair of small hoop earrings, and he also has a matching tattoo with Rinduo on the left side of his back and chest, stretching from his nape and collarbones down to his torso. 

He has the insignia tattooed on the front of his neck. 

He was built, but not so much so that it was unattractive.

Ran wasn't a typical-looking guy; he wasn't preppy or handsome; he was beautiful in a way that I had never noticed before.

"When you're done looking at me, whore, you can get changed," he said from behind, not glancing at me.

Did this dude have fucking eyes in the back of his head or something?

I finished getting changed and told him it was safe to turn around.

"Now, I'm going to safely assume that you don't have anything physically spectacular about you," Ran muttered, looking me up and down. 

I was slightly offended.

'"Excuse me?" "It's just that you're so small and fragile; you can't be great. Mikey told me to help you; I'll do what I can." He scoffed.

Motherfucker.

His arm grabbed mine, and his cold rings made the hair on my arm stand on edge as we walked.

He led us towards the mats, which led me to assume that he was going to make an antagonistic move.

He went to grab and kick out my ankle, but I jumped back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He threw a punch, but I ducked it before blocking another.

He sent a leg into my stomach. I didn't catch that one; my soul had left my body.

I doubled over in pain and wheezed before he sent a knee into my chest, and I fell completely to the ground.

I struggled but managed to coordinate my limbs, scrambling to my feet and holding my hands up to my face again, trying to shake off the ache in my stomach.

"Not a bad whore; better than what I'd thought you would be." He let out a smart remark.

I held my tongue to stop myself from saying something sassy.

"So, you're just here to beat me up, asshole?" I panted.

"Because I mean, I hope you don't expect me to fight and beat a fucking mobster in my first fight." The dangerous smirk had left his face, but he still nodded.

"Fine, give me a set of eighty lines, then; you're in for one hell of a time," he glared.