Don't Blame Me, It's your Fault I'm In Love With You

Don't Blame Me, It's Your Fault I'm In Love With You (Chapter 8)

 So I finally decided to update the story. yay. This chapter is AWESOME because of the drama and drama is funny :) It was really fun to write :D check out my other stories<---failed advertising attempt.

fan, vote, fote, van, comment. it makes me feel happy and with that one extra happy person in a world with sad people makes rainbows colorful and the world a happier place. almost happier than disneyland :)

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I regained consciousness seconds later, but I was dizzy. I looked up and saw a really big muscular man grab my by the collar and push me up against the door. Another man came up next to him, smiling. He had hair the same color as Alex, the facial structure looked oddly familiar.

“What do you want? And what was that for?!” I slurred.

“To make sure you didn’t scream. Or attack. Tell me where Alex is.” The man said calmly.

“Like hell I will!” I yelled.

“Oooh wrong answer.” I then felt something slam into my stomach and it knocked the wind out of me. I struggled for breath, gasped, and coughed. I got my breathing back to normal, barely.

“So where is she?”

“Go to hell!” I yelled.

“Calm down.”

“No! Let me go!”

 “Ricky, take him outside. He’s a loud one.” I was dragged by my collar down cement stairs and out a back door into and alley way. What did these guys want with Alex? Obviously if they’re beating the crap out of me just to know where she is, then they’re up to no good. The man I now identified as Ricky pushed me hard against the brick wall, his grip still on my collar. The other man came up behind Ricky and smiled in amusement.

“So where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hm? Well you should. After all, she is your girlfriend.”

“She is not my girlfriend. Let me go.” I said, trying to punch Ricky in the face. When I did, it looked like it hadn’t inflicted anything on him at all.

“Okay. Answer my question and I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t know!” 

“Okay, since you won’t comply, Ricky?” the man said, flicking his wrist and walking away. This can’t be good. I felt his knee once again jab into my stomach and I dropped to the ground. He continuously kicked me in the head and chest, one blow at a time, taking his sweet time to make sure I felt every ounce of pain. My head ricocheted against the brick wall every time I was kicked in the head. I could feel the wetness of my own blood on my face, along with wide gashes on my leg, arm, and a smaller one form on my forehead. When Ricky decided that I would die any minute now, he laughed and I felt something plunge into my side. It didn’t hurt because I could barely feel anymore. He then walked in the direction the other man did. I could tell I was losing a lot of blood. I couldn’t feel. I was really numb, and surprisingly after being hit in the head so many times, I was still conscious. Maddie was right, I did have a hard head. My breathing was ragged and shallow and I could taste blood. A lot of blood. Hey, at least I died in an epic way. I closed my eyes and blacked out. 

    I tried to open my eyes, but I was too woozy. I tried to turn my head, but my head hurt. Actually, everything hurt. I could hear people frantically talking and off beat beeping.