My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Veinticinco

The close resemblance between the two is sickening.

The only difference is, he's got grey hair - which is long - and has an earring. Plus a tattoo on his neck. Of a dagger.

I shiver.

"My son loves to get mixed in with the wrong crowd," He snarls. "Doesn't it feel like Romeo and Juliet, all over again?" He asks, leaning down on the bed and pulling at the chains.

I shriek, noticing how my wrists burn, making me feel like someone's cutting my whole damn arm off.

They'd done something to the chains.

"Good idea, isn't it? Tying someone up to chains dipped in boiling lava, and then torturing them?" He laughs maniacally.

This is Arsen's father. How can I...how can I feel such consuming emotions for this man's son?!

And still, I want nothing more than to be safe at Arsen's side.

"You're sick," I hiss.

He pulls at the chains again, and I scream, the burning sensation digging into my skin.

Pain, pain, pain. So. Much. Pain.

"So's my son. Have you noticed yet?" He growls. I gulp.

I'd noticed from the first day I'd met Arsen, all the way back in seventh grade, that he was a little sick.

But not as sick as his dad.

"He's not demented like you. You're an evil bastard!" I shriek, trying to kick my feet out of their chains.

Thankfully, they weren't dipped in lava. I was trying as hard as I could to keep my wrists as steady as ever.

They were literally killing me.

Gilbert gives me a disturbing smile. "Where do you think Turner got it from? If he came up with some shitbag tale telling you that he's a self-taught psychopath, then he's got another thing coming."

I give him both a confused and angry look.

Arsen wouldn't lie to me. Not about something like this, anyway.

"Turner first learned how to hunt when he was twelve. Not animals. If he said animals, he was lying. Another thing I taught him to do."

I shake my head. I urge myself to stop listening, no matter how much it feels like he's telling the truth.

"I taught him revenge, Xanthe. I made him know what it feels like to get back at somebody for doing something bad. D'you think he cares about you? That he likes you? You think he's keeping you around because he loves you? Or that he might end up loving you? Because--"

I glare at him. "Shut up."

"--you're wrong. He doesn't love anybody. Other than his family, his gang, he loves nothing."

"Shut up," I hiss.

"Turner's keeping you around for show. He's using you. He doesn't need or want you. You're nothing to him."

"SHUT UP, YOU ASSHOLE!" I shriek.

I'm too angry to realize how much pain the chains are causing me. All I want to do, right now, is punch this bastard in the face.

"I think you're underestimating me, old man," I snarl. Gilbert smirks.

"Oh, no, I'm not underestimating you, sweetheart," He says.

What the hell does he mean by that?!

"You're the daughter of Richard Jacox. You have no idea what he was a part of, Xanthe, and what he was capable of doing."

"How do you know my dad?" I growl through clenched teeth. Gilbert smirks.

"Do you even know what happened to him, Xanthe? Did your sad, depressed mom give you a sad, depressed excuse? What was it, he died of cancer? Or he killed himself?"

I try to ignore my anger and instead, look at my wrists.

My skin was burnt, turning black, stinging. But I was too freaking numb to feel anything. I didn't care anymore.

"She said he was kidnapped," I say silently. Gilbert smiles.

"Yeah, I thought as much. Do you, sweetheart, want to know what really happened to your beloved father?" Gilbert asks, leaning down, coming face to face with me.

I gulp. He takes that as a yes.

"He wasn't kidnapped, Xanthe. He wasn't murdered. In fact, he didn't die at all,"

My heartbeat speeds up.

"Xanthe, your dad is still alive."

I glare at the bed.

"No, he isn't. Don't lie about my dad to me!" I scream.

Gilbert's smile doesn't vanish.

"Oh, Xanthe. You think I don't know? You knew from the start that your father was alive. Isn't that right?"

Oh, no. No, no, no, no!

"Isn't that right?" He repeats, sounding angry.

I swallow.

"Yeah. I knew my father was still alive."

Gilbert smiles. And before I know it, he whirls out a gun and presses it against my temple.

Safety's off, and his fingers on the trigger.

"Perfect. Now, stay still. It'll only hurt a bit."

And a gunshot rings out through the whole world.

____________________________________________________________

1290 words.

Don't worry, this isn't the end of the book.

I just realized, it kind of is like Romeo and Juliet.

But you'll find out more in a few chapters.

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