You never really know what it's like to fear, to be afraid to death, even if you might think you know you do.
There's always a kind of sense, a rational thought that calms you down even just for a little bit, because somehow you know everything will be okay; when you're walking home at night in the dark and see something moving in the shadows, you know it's just your imagination probably.
It could be when you're walking on a bridge and standing near the edge, fear filling you because if you fall over, you're going to die; however, you know you won't fall over.
At least that's what you tell yourself.
People are trained to comfort themselves when they are afraid, and to tell themselves everything is fine, so much that when it comes to a point when they're in actual danger, they don't know what to do, but they know that the bullshit "everything will be fine" is false.
Let's take my current situation for example.
Fifteen minutes ago, I woke up in some sort of a cellar, a dark room with a very small window, tied down to the bed.
It feels like my mind is kind of numb, maybe from too much adrenaline in my veins, maybe from the shock, but all I know at the moment is that I am afraid.
Afraid like I've never been before.
The sound of footsteps descending the stairs outside my room and quickly approaching me pushes me even further into the overwhelming fear, a fear I could never describe.
Incredibly, a familiar person enters the room.
"Well, well, well, look who finally woke up. I thought I killed ya, but I guess I just held choloform over your nose a bit too long. Sorry about that. Well, sleeping for two days has never hurt anyone before, right?" Tom shrugs and my breathing becomes as shallow as possible.
This is the person I used to make out with in the comfort of my bedroom.
"Why am I here?" I whisper and he ticks his toungue against his mouth.
"Don't know if I should tell ya. Don't know if you deserve it. Believe it or not, you left me quite heartbroken, little miss." he says and I stare at him in awe, his personality completely different now.
"As if I'd ever believe that." I whisper to myself at his brows shoot up. "Sorry? Didn't catch that."
I don't reply and he sighs, sitting doen on a dusty chair in the corner of the room.
"Look, you had to see this coming. It'd be incredibly idiotic of you if you didn't see it coming. However, assuming by your actions and deciding to walk home while it's basically dark out, I wouldn't say you predicted this." he rambles.
Grinning, he comes closer and I try to pull away instinctively, but I can't because of the chains on my ankles.
"How stupid of you." he fake-chuckles and tugs on my feet, making me gulp and send a quick prayer to the god that this would all be over soon.
"Can you please tell me why I'm here?" I whisper and he cuts me off immediately. "I wasn't finished!" he yells at me and I squeeze my eyes shut.
"You're my ex girlfriend, Sophie, and you know why's that, right? Or did your good-for-nothing dick of whatever he is to you at the moment tell you nothing about it?" he asks and I don't attempt to reply to him so he takes it as a clue to continue talking.
As far as I remember, he didn't tell me anything about it.
"I'm in the gang too, Sophie, and me having to watch over you and make sure you don't go around blabbing the information you know about us is the only reason our relationship ever existed. I never liked you. N-E-V-E-R. Though I must admit you do look quite hot. If you were less whiny and bitchy, you could be dateable." he shrugs again and I ignore the pang in my throat.
"Anyway," he carries on, " your Harry did something a few weeks ago that send the gang into a chaos. He killed Greyson, I'm sure he told you about that. Well, if you kill a gang's leader, you kind of kill the gang with it because now it's all gone to shit and none of us are making much money anymore, what's worse, we've recieved death threaths from everywhere because of the unfinished business. People tend to get lethal when it's about the money." he emphasizes way too many words.
He sighs, throwing his arms in the air and then letting them fall to his sides, making him look even crazier.
"Look, I'm feeling very generous today and will answer your question despite your shitty personality. It's gonna look cool now if I finish the story."
His constant grinning and emphasizing, and most of all his crazy behaviour is making me ten times more nervous.
"You're nothing but a bait. Your only function at the moment is to scare the shit out of Harry and make him come here so we can kill him and then you're free to go. Maybe." he says and tears pool in my eyes.
"No." I grit out. "You can't do that."
He's on his feet in less than a second, holding me by my throat in the next.
"I'm sorry, what?" he lifts his brows, and I glare at him in reply, unable to say anything because of him squeezing my throat.
"You need to face it. Harry is a shitty person. Shitty. Person. He deserves this, get it?" he asks and then lets his eyes travel down to my breasts.
I quickly look away. "Just like I deserve this." he says, slowly touching my breast and I can't help but scream out.
Tom laughs. "Scream as much as you want. Nobody can hear you, don't worry." he grins at me and comes closer to my mouth to force a kiss on my lips, when the sound of a gun being cocked is heard through the room.
"You sure about that, motherfucker?"
Predictable, I know, but please don't hate me. It'd hurt me way too much. ❤
I'll probably edit this sometime and make the ending of this chapter better because it's honestly shit but hey, I updated on time so that's something.
I love you very very very very much. P.❤
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