BENEATH TWISTED HEARTS - Lies, Doubt And Obsession

CHAPTER 1 DANGEROUS ENCOUNTER GRACIAS'S POV The alley was quiet, but the gentle breeze soothed and cozied me. I put on my headset listening to "Break My Heart" by Ella Mai. It was funny how I enjoyed romantic songs and movies, but as a person it never interested me. The alley was dry, and no one was seen. Just then, pop…pop…pop. I stopped for a moment. It was a gun shot. I refused to let it bother me. My steps were firm and sturdy. Whatever happened was not my business. The moment intensified. I reduced the volume of my music. I kept walking. I never let things that weren’t my business faze me. However, I felt someone run past me, but I wasn’t sure. I stared into the distance the figure had disappeared into, but no one was in sight. I quickened my foot step. Suddenly, a firm hand grasped onto me. I froze in place. The hand was cold and strong. "Help me," he whispered. I removed his hold on my hand. And continued. I wasn't a good person and I don't like getting unnecessarily entangled with strangers. Especially ones like this. I hastened my step, nodding to the music. A firm hand clutched me again. What is wrong with this person? I snapped. “What do you want?” I yelled, stepping away from him. “Please don't implicate me” I said, moving away from him. I felt something move past my ear. My body froze and my breath hitched. It was a bullet. My hands trembled. I stared at him in horror, with a frozen face. He fired again. This time drove straight to my face, grazing past my cheeks. I fell down instantly. Blood dripped down my cheek. I stared down at his other hand. It was a gun. Cold sweat ran down my spine. "How can I help you?" I stuttered. What if he kills me? God, ooh no I didn’t want to die. I closed my eyes tightly. His other hand was covered in blood. He was bleeding from his belly. Goodness gracious, what have I done? I mumbled. He stretched out his gun. "What did you say I should do?" Fear grips me. "Take me with you" he said, the words rang like a bell in my ears, "How do you mean" my voice quivering. My heartbeat quickening "I mean your house," He said hoarsely. I didn’t ask anymore questions. I held onto his hand and led him to my apartment. What crime have I committed? I thought. Hand in hand we walked into my apartment. I loved my room clean and in order. He removed his face cap and tossed it onto the couch. I wanted to tell him not to do that, having mysophobia was already killing me, but what if he shoots me? I gently picked it up and threw it into the bin. I ran into my room. My heart closed just like the door did. I stood there wondering what just happened. “Did I just bring a stranger into my house?” I didn't understand, but I had no choice. I went to my bedside, picked up a first aid box, and exited the room. Slowly, I walked over to him. My hands trembling. “Let me help you dress your wound.” I said, trying to compose. He stared at my face then to my hand, and waved his hand gesturing for me to come closer. “Make sure not to do anything silly.” He muttered, his gaze fascinated on the box. I bent over, and helped him undress. My hands trembling. Looking at his well formed abs, I couldn't help but swallow hard. His body was freakishly good looking. I gasped. I could feel his gaze glued on my face. “You like what you see?.” He teased coldly. I called my thoughts in order. I didn't reply to his remark. He watched my every action, until I was done dressing his wound. It was a stab not too deep, but I assumed he must have lost a lot of blood. As soon as, I was done dressing his wound. I stood up to leave, but he stopped me. “ Because you have helped me, I won't kill you yet.” I knew that voice, that demonic voice. Those from dark romance dramas. “Thanks,” And hurried into my room. My heart almost jumped from its rip cage. Just then, I had a loud bang. My heartbeat quickened. “What are you doing inside there? Are you calling the police?.” His voice pierced the whole place. I froze. “Who did I bring into my house?” my body trembled, cold sweat ran down my body. “Open this door.” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. I didn't dare open the door, I couldn't. My hand gently clung to the door handle. Should I open it, should I not? My heart raced.