Turning Tables

Chapter 4

Hiya guys, I know I haven't updated for like ever so I thought I'd update what I'd written so far of chapter 4, it's a bit short at the mo but im working on it xxx

Oh and i've done some editing on previous chapters so some things may not make sense :/ soz xxx

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Chapter 4 

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Frankie’s POV:

Hearing the sound of retreating, pounding footsteps I instantly stopped playing my guitar, rushing to the door and flinging it open as fast as I could. Throwing my head out of the door I saw a running figure, one that I quickly identified as Robbie by his soft dark hair, ripped abs and towering height, even from a distance. I shuddered.  What had he been doing by my room? Instantly I became on alert for any danger my eyes flicking from side to side cautiously, the look in his eyes when he had told me that he was going to ‘crush me into a pulp’ still carved deeply into my brain. He was such a dick, what made him think that I couldn’t handle him? Mark my words he was going to regret the day he ever messed with me.  

I slinked back into my room, slamming the door behind me. Sighing, I collapsed back onto my bed, suddenly wanting to sleep, but knowing that I was wide awake now. Why did he have to affect me so much? Even the look of him gave me the shivers. The way his eyes burned into mine, slowly undressing me with a glance, raking, with no embarrassment, over every contour of my body. It was enough to send my hormones into a frenzy. The way he spoke, the rough masculine tone to his voice, the way he walked, his muscles rippling, and the desperate need of his kisses on my neck, like he was a parched lion and I was his desperately needed water, that he had been searching for me for years. Wait. What was I thinking, there is no way he could see me in that way. Get a grip for gods sake Frankie, he's just a good for nothing sexy bastard.

Frustrated, my stomach rumbling, I flung myself off my bed, the blankets tumbling to the floor in a heap. Too irritated to pick them up again, I stormed back out of the room and down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

 After popping a piece of toast in the toaster I start to get the ingredients for my killer toasted sandwich. Standing nonchalantly against the counter, waiting for the toast to toast, I barely noticed Robbie walking in the room. It was only when a draw slammed shut that I noticed that he was there. My eyes narrowed. ‘Evil, sexy psychopath’ I grumbled to myself, fixing my sandwich, and trying to act like he didn’t exist. I heard a masculine little chuckle. Ignoring him and forgetting he was there, I felt myself start to drool, proud at my masterpiece of a sandwich. It looked delicious.

I walked to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice to go with my sandwich. Turning around I came face to face with Robbie, eating my sandwich. My sandwich. That was it; there was no way I was going to put up with this. First cutting my hair, then stealing a bite of my masterpiece sandwich, he was a dead man walking. His eyes widened, an innocent look spreading across his face. He smiled cautiously, bits of bread falling out from between his teeth, and gently put the sandwich down, keeping eye contact the entire time. His eyes broke contact and flicked towards the door, then returned to mine.

‘You’d. Better. Run.’ I threatened, pronouncing every word clearly unable to keep the malice out of my tone. He bolted. I chased.

After running for what seemed like hours, but must have been mere minutes, he started to slow, clearly bored of running away, turning to face me.

‘Stop following me now girly, games over,’ he told me, raising an eyebrow. I felt a growl escape my lips. There was no way that I was going to just ignore the fact that he was a psychopath who might kill me in my sleep, and I had to tell him whose boss around here. I took a threatening step forwards, clenching my fists causing my knuckles to crack menacingly. He responded by stalking three massive steps forward causing me to scuttle back, slamming into the wall.

‘Look you filthy little slut. I don’t know who you think you are, but I am willing to give you a chance to back off, now take it before I have to wreck that sexy little body of yours.’ His eyes travelled down my body and a cocky player’s smirk etched his way across his face. I was momentarily baffled by the fact that he was actually giving me a chance. I felt my eyebrows furrow in thought. There was no way I was going to let this cocky asshole control me, I guess this was going to have to be the hard way.

‘Hell no,’ I proclaimed taking another step forwards. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched in anger. This was obviously the first time someone had stood up to him. His eyes rolled around their sockets in uncontrolable anger, like a bull ready to charge. It was when he closed his eyes and started to shake that I started to become scared, like really scared. Picture a five foot nothing girl backed into a corner by a six foot mountain of a guy, that was trying to control a seething rage, and this girl being in the firing line. My chances of not being beaten into a pulp, like he had threatened earlier, were minimal. Even with all my years of training I knew that there was no way I could fight this guy. Jesus Christ I was a dead woman walking. 

Cowering and preparing myself for the hits that I knew would come I felt my mind drift into my fighter mode and yet all my brain was telling me was "get the hell outta there, whilst you still can." I was so confused, wracking my brain for anything that would help me. So distracted that I failed to notice the first hit as it slammed right into my jaw the sheer power of it causing my jaw to click and the salty, metalic taste of blood to fill my mouth instantly 

(to be continued .... )

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So thats it so far xxxx

Comment, Vote, Fan you guys know the drift xxx

And thanks to @alana_bitch for the great cover xxx