Lost and confused, I stood barefoot in the dimly lit kitchen, taking in my surroundings, hoping to find something.
And I did—a small camera on top of the kitchen cabinets.
Hidden, but also in plain sight. So they were planning to monitor my every move.
How entertaining for them—keeping me locked up all alone, filming a movie of me going insane from isolation.
While my rage bubbled in the utter silence, I stared at the camera and it stared right back. There were no voices anywhere. Not a car passed by, not an airplane, only the sound of ocean waves reminded me where I was.
They wanted a show, huh?
The thought swirled inside me, and I yanked open a drawer, looking for the longest utensil I could find. It turned out to be a spaghetti spoon. I aimed right at the little black thing, doing a few practice swings, before launching the spoon right on top of the cabinet, jumping as high as I could.
Bingo. The camera clattered loudly and fell over somewhere unknown, shielding me from their prying eyes.
They wanted me to live here, huh? Fuck it, Iwould.
I’d make it my own fucking property.
3
Cherry Lips, Angel Eyes
Alex
“Well, that went well.” Andrei fell into step with me as soon as the front door slammed behind us. “You better get a rabies shot.”
I chuckled, flicking on my lighter just as I reached my car, wishing for only one thing—to get the fuck away from here and fall asleep.
Jade’s bite throbbed on my hand and her blood-soaked chin burned into my memory.
Cherry lips, angel eyes, and a total fucking brat.
"That was all your fault, by the way. Can’t believe you didn’t see it coming," Andrei continued, his pragmatic nature pissing me off. Of course, it was my fault—not the crazy girl who sunk her teeth into my flesh.
The cigarette burned close to my fingers just as Maksim showed up out of nowhere, passing me a small glittery purse. I sifted through the contents, making a mental list. Regular girl shit; lipstick, her phone, whatever makeup thing, a tampon?! Oh shit, was she on her period?! That thought never even crossed our minds. Some cash, a credit card, her hotel key, and ID.
Jade Bianca Moretti
She was five foot seven and twenty-six years old. A little older than we thought, but who gives a shit? Explains why she was so goddamn feisty; she wasn't a dumb teenager.
I withdrew her phone, slipped it into my pocket, handed the purse to Andrei, and got into my car.
"Tomorrow, ten a.m." Andrei leaned into my open window and reminded me. "You okay?” he inquired, always the perceptive one.
“Fine,” I lied easily, rubbing the dried blood off my knuckles. “Tomorrow.”
But I wasn’t fine.
Not really.
Without a clear explanation of why. It all piled onto my conscience like an avalanche while I drove home. Gianna’s shitty threats, Jade’s bare legs kicking at Maksim, her ridiculous comebacks, the bite. The heartbreak in her eyes when she sat on the bed. The mascara running down her cheeks.
And her fucking sparkly golden dress. It hugged her in a warm embrace. Itclungto her hips, cascading down her sides, showing off the curve of her immaculate spine. She was all smooth and tanned—her legs, her back, her shoulde—
What the fuck was I doing?!
I took the next exit off the highway and twenty minutes later pulled into my driveway with a heavy sigh.
