Kidnapped By A Hitman [BoyxBoy] ✓

NEIL M. [4]

There was no television other than a knitting yarn on her lap, I ringed onto the bell causing her to snap right awake. She composed herself squinting her eyes as if she had a bad sight, "One room, please." I faked an accent with a charming smile, the old woman squinted more, "For how long?"

"Only for today, Darling."

"That will be forty-five."

I fetched for my wallet trying to ignore the pain on my left shoulder as I pulled out my wallet. I gave her the forty-five dollars and in return, I received a key to one of the rooms; I made my way back to the car. When I arrived, I leaned myself against the hood of the car watching Matt rummage through the bag.

I bit my inner cheek holding in my laughter while observing the way he furrowed his eyebrows and chew at his lower lip in curiosity. I knocked onto the window with a humorous smile plastered on my lips and he jumped hitting his head against the ceiling of the car. The lights around the motel made it possible for me to see the blush across his cheeks, "N-Neil! What the hell?" He hissed and rubbed his head as I opened the door peeking my head in.

"See," I said, "You never listen, you make it hard to trust you with anything."

He blinked, fingers fumbling with the zipper as he looked down at it, "I was...I was curious."

I snorted, "What are you? A kid? Come on, I got us a room." I closed the door again, scurrying around the car to wait for him to get out. It looked pitiful seeing him in handcuffs while carrying a bag in an awkward way and struggled to close the door. He appeared disgruntled; we headed silently to the room finding only one bed.

I didn't mind since I wasn't going to sleep once I got the bullet out of my shoulder and stitched it. Matt threw the bag on the table and fell onto the bed with a soft comfortable sound. He snuggled onto the pillows with a large sigh while I busied myself in taking off my jacket followed by my shirt.

I held the shirt in hand walking to the duffle bag which was still slightly open, "You can go ahead and sleep, I'm going to be up for a while." I encouraged, taking out a first aid kit and went back to the bathroom on the left side of the room.

The motel room was pretty small with a long bed against the right side of the wall, bedside tables, cream-colored walls with two paintings. A window next to the entrance door with burgundy curtains, a lamp, and two armchairs. On the left side of the room was a table with two chairs, another painting above; besides it, a dresser with a mirror and another lamp placed adjacent to it with an old television. A dark brown carpet throughout the entire room.

The room could have been better if the sheets on the bed didn't look like it was meant for an elderly couple. The motel was owned by an old lady. When I walked into the bathroom it was also small with—surprisingly—marble floors like the sink; there was a white tub and I had to admit that it appeared clean, but those transparent curtains stained at the bottom told me otherwise.

I stood in front of the mirror, sighing at the pale complexion and the messiness of my brown locks. "Neil, can I watch television?" I furrowed my eyebrows hearing the brunette across the room; it wasn't as if it was going to change anything. "Even if I say 'no' you're not going to listen to me." I stated.

"Fine, then I won't watch television."

"Highly doubt that." I muttered to myself; I've only been with this guy for long several hours and I knew for a fact he did whatever he wanted. I worked my way on the bullet on my shoulder, gritted my jaws and breathed sharply from the excruciating pain. I wasn't sure if it hurt more taking out the bullet or stitching the wound together. By the time I was done I've shed more blood to the point I was sure I was going to collapse.