Bad boys do it better

Chapter 8

»Why is the bag so important to you,« he shot out without hesitating and I licked my lips as I thought about my answer. If I let him think it's only the bag which is important to me, maybe he will give it to me without further questions. On the other hand, if I told him about the diamond necklace he would probably sell it.

So I decided to go with a lie and since I'm a very good liar, getting away with it wouldn't be a problem. So I bowed my head as if it was hard for me to talk about it, looked up at him and sighed. »It was my mom's,« I murmured and in order to make it easier for me to lie, pretended I was talking about the necklace. "She gave it to me as a gift and that's the last thing I got from her."

I saw his eyes examining my face and trying to figure out whether I was telling the truth or not. "What happened to her?" he asked me and I straightened my back as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Save your question, Queen, it's my turn now," I told him and took a deep breath before speaking. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, so many questions running through my mind that I couldn't decide which one to ask first. He was so mysterious, bad and secretive and I knew this was the only chance I would get to actually make him tell me anything about himself.

So I decided to go with the question that was bugging me ever since I found out who he was. "Why did you steal the bag away from me?" I asked and quickly continued, before he could answer. "I mean, you have money, that's obvious, maybe even more than me. Why would you risk your freedom in order to steal some girl's old gym bag?"

He narrowed his eyes, licked his lips and raised the bottle of whiskey to his mouth, when I interrupted him. "Seriously?!" I exclaimed as I looked at him in disbelief. "You are going to drink instead of answering to all my questions, aren't you?" I confronted him angrily. "Do you want to get totally trashed today?"

He put the bottle down and smirked. His eyes bore into mine and I almost lost myself in his deep bright green eyes. "Are you honestly ready to hear the answers to the questions you are raising?" he asked me and I scrunched my eyebrows, contemplating what he's saying. "Sometimes," he continued, his voice now low and calm, "the answers may not be at all what you are expecting." He took a big gulp of whiskey and put it down again, without flinching. I made a disgusted face as I remembered the taste of whiskey and couldn't understand how he could drink it so easily.

"So it's only the bag you want, nothing else?" he asked me and propped himself on the elbow, that he was lying on the side, turned to me. It seemed like his position was comfortable, so I mirrored it and smiled at him.

"Yeah, and everything that's in it, of course. I have my phone there, my workout clothes –"

"Your diary?" he smirked and my eyes widened. I gulped. I have completely forgot about putting my diary there!! My breathing became rapid and I didn't know what to do. I had to get that diary back. It contained my personal thoughts and feelings, and I wrote in it everyday. It was like my personal psychiatrist, except he never gave me an answer to my questions, he was just there for me.

"I hope you did not dare to read it, otherwise I swear to god I'll kick your ass!" I exclaimed, but he ignored me, as always. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocked and started searching for something. When he found what he was searching for, he smirked as he theatrically started reading.

"September 1st," he spoke with a girly tone and I finally got what he was doing. He was reading my diary which he apparently took pictures of. I couldn't say anything, I just listened as he quoted lines from my diary. "'Sometimes, you end up losing yourself trying to hold onto someone who doesn't care about losing you.' This quote had me thinking. I immediately thought of Chad. Today is the first day I'm going to see him after a month, and it seems like our primary spark has already faded away. In a month that I spent without him, I almost never thought of him. Is that sad? Why am I holding onto him if I know it's not going to last? Why am I so afraid of changes? I wish I wasn't such a coward ..."