Sinfully Ruined [17+]

Chapter 6: Faking smiles.

Jace Carson

Chocking me from the back a guy holds my neck, pressing into my jugular. I take both his hands with force and throw him over my shoulder as he falls with a loud thud. Wasting no time, I throw a couple of punches on his sick face drawing blood.

Satisfied, I get up brushing my coat, when a gut wrenching pain shoots through my rib. An ugly pale looking guy had pierced a knife in my left side over my rib.

----

I wake up panting heavily, beads of sweat drenching my body and agonizing pain that trembles in my ribs. Checking for the wound, I'm surprised to see it has already been taken care of along with the gash on my hand which has been covered with band-aid. Looking around the place, I realize that; I'm resting on a white fluffy bed with dark wooden headrest. The beige colored walls make up the room while a small coffee table resting beside a queen size bed and a small wardrobe are the only things occupying it. Laying half naked on the bed with only my pants on, I sit up while relaxing my back on the headrest as my thoughts wander about this strange place-

How did I even get here?

F-U-C-K... Did somebody kidnap me? But who'd risk doing that to me? But then again that is if they knew about my status. Finally, it clicks.

The bar last night-

The beard pony guy-

The navy blue dress.

Damn! It's that ungrateful bitch!

Speak of the devil. Opening wide the engraved brown wooden door, enters none other than the devil herself. She stands there with a polka dotted yellow crop top on paired with gray cargo pants that hugged her toned legs comfortably. Folding her arms over her chest, eyes raking my conscious state, she has a neutral expression on her face.

The way her shoulders align together in a steady pose, the rhythm of her footsteps inching closer, face betraying no emotion, she is heavily guarded within the walls that she has created around her. I could see her struggling to figure me out as her gray eyes roam over every crevice of my face. Every aspect of her body is unnervingly calm and her stature is confident yet not so sure as she approaches me with a certain alertness as anyone would in the presence of a stranger.

Inches away, she reaches towards the edge taking a seat at the corner on the bed with her captivating eyes studying me. I try to look away.

Further, the door opens to reveal a man in his mid forties, with streaks of gray hair mingled with a few black ones, permanent wrinkles on his forehead as a casual smile lights up his face at the sight of us.