The Mafia's Conman

Chapter Seven: Some Instructions Required

Chapter Seven: Some Instructions Required

   I'm a little shit, aren't I?

   I need a phone.

   Yes, that's what I need. A phone. But where? I need common sense too, but we can't all find what we're looking for, huh Chris?!

   Oh shut up. What is this, America?

   Okay, Chris. Stop with the self mental conversations, you fucking weirdo.

   But yes, I need a phone.

   Though seeing as death was staring me right in the face, I resisted the urge to scurry around in search of one.

This isn't a wishing well, Chris. Nor is this some weird sadistic story on wattpad. This is real life! Real life I tell you!

   It wasn't me officer! I swear. I've been framed!..

   Where was I going with this again?

   Oh right. I need a phone.

   An iphone, or an android, or a vintage flip phone, or I might even settle with a prehistoric house phone- you know, the one that's connected to the wall... no? Okay...

   My eyes scanned the room...

   Wait, where am I?

   I looked up at Jackson. My fiancé. Jackson Kaaz. If we get married I'll be... Christopher Kaaz? No way! My name is part of my identity! Granted, it's not my birth name- or my real name at all- it might as well be. Unless he takes my last name... Jackson Nanami?

   A laugh escaped past my lips, prompting me to clasp a hand over them when Jackson raised an eyebrow at me.

   Why am I even thinking of this? It's not like we're actually getting married, right? Right!? It's not possible. It was probably some type of scheme meant to take revenge on me.

   But, revenge for what?

   "Are you listening to me?"

   Huh?

   I look up, considering our height difference, to find a pair of amused eyes staring right into mine.

   "Of course I am." I respond, crossing my arms and glaring.

   "Oh yeah? Then what did I say?"

   I froze, my eyes scanning around the room. It looked the same as the rest of the place; like a freaking victorian castle. There was a living room, a door which I assumed to be the bathroom, and a huge ass bed near the center of the room... that can't be good.

   "You were saying something about... something." I drew a blank, feeling as though my heart was doing a weird b-boy dance with the way it was pounding in my chest.

   The seemingly permanent smirk on Jackson's lips only grew wider, the weirdly terrifying glint in his eyes prominent; and it was fucking hot. No! Not the time, Chris! Not the time!

   "I said I was going to throw you on that bed right behind you, and fuck you in that pretty little ass until you permanently remember the shape of me inside of you."

   The response was so unexpected, my face only flushed briefly before a very ungraceful snort escaped me.

   This cocky piece of shit!

   "Yeah, and pigs fly. What'd you really say?" I was getting irritated- as I always was- as I asked, putting my hands on my hips and tilting my head up. Despite our height differences, the angle of my chin made it seem as though I were looking down at him. 

   Then, just as quickly as the guy could smirk, his expressions hardened. Roughly pushing me against the wall, the wind was knocked out me, and my hand landed at a weird angle behind me that had me gasping in pain. My head spun a few times, grateful it didn't smack against the wall.

   "What makes you think I was joking?" We were practically nose to nose, staring into each other's eyes like some type of *gag* lovers as he pinned me between his hands next to my head.

   I took a deep breath, finding his growl oddly enticing. A growl which only fueled my werewolf theory. I opened my mouth, ready to spout some bullshit to get myself out of this uncomfortable position.

   "Well, for starters, I could be a walking STD for all you know." The excuse was none less stupid than anything I've said before, and I resisted the urge to facepalm. Aren't I supposed to be a master of persuasion? The perfect conman with the silver tongue? Hah. Bullshit.

   Jackson just smirked at me- and at this point, I was convinced that was the only expression he knew how to make. He dropped down slightly, lowering himself dangerously near my lips.

   Just a breath away.

   "Are you?"

   For a second I was tempted to say yes, that I was a walking infestation. That I sold myself for a quick buck to any bloke that asked, not caring for diseases... but who was I kidding? I'm a nineteen-year-old virgin that would probably still play with legos and wear onesies if I had the time.

   "No." I responded, defeated. Drowsiness was starting to weigh down my system, but that didn't stop me from getting pissed at Jackson's pleased expression.

   "Exactly."

   With those words, he let go of me, going off to sit on one of the fancy armchairs.

   I was left there, plastered into the wall, and the familiar feeling of disappointment swelled within me once again. Though the disappointment was different than anything I've ever felt before. I was disappointed that the guy didn't actually do anything... Can you blame me!? The bastard's practically a Greek God!

Sighing, I warily and unsteadily made my way towards him, my mind still spinning and reeling as I sat on the chair opposite of him. As soon as I was seated, he opened his mouth to speak.

   "As I was saying - well, said - we are to wed a day after tomorrow, we will leave for-"

   I stopped listening almost immediately. Maybe I was just exhausted and was having a harder time processing the man's words, but he was speaking utter nonsense at this point.

   I was beyond confused. I was... confused as fuck.

   "Woah woah woah." I waved my hands around, making him stop what he was saying with a raised eyebrow. "No way. If I'm any more confused, I will run out that door. Got it? Now explain. Everything."

   Jackson looked irritated for a few seconds at being interrupted, his eyes scanning my slightly hysterical appearance before a small sigh escaped him.

   Bitch this better be good.

_____

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