The man with the coldest set of eyes.
1257 Words
Jasmine pov
It wasn't like me at all.
I knew what was going on, only barely... but I had heard what Scot had said about me...
Most of it at least...
Don't leave me... I said something in those lines to the biker. He looked down at me, as though studying me intently as I remained leaned up against the bike.
If he refused... I would have stuck onto that bike and prevented him from leaving. Yes, I was desperate at this point... I was scared of being left alone on the front porch of what used to be my home. I regretted not being independent... I regretted listening to that man when he told me he'd provide it all for me...
I regretted every single reason I gave myself to believe him.
I regretted everything....
"Get on." He said, but his expression was warning me, telling me to just stay behind and not follow him. He looked like he was asking if I trusted him or not.
Who else was I going to turn to?
I had no one...
I leaned from the bike, trying to get the weight into my arms as I try to stand up. The door with the heel wobbled as though my leg was made out of noddles.
"Take these off" I heard him say before he suddenly grabbed my ankle and tore the shoes off my foot, tossing it over to the front lawn on what used to be my home. "They're broken."
I was about to protest, that those were the only shoes I had on me but he silenced me by grabbing my shoulders and forcing me onto the bike, right in front of him.
"Keep your legs in." He said as I felt his thighs press into mine from the sides. the warmth of his body seeping through the jeans filled me with an unfamiliar sensation... "You understand, right? You're not that drunk anymore."
I nodded as he put the helmet on me. He was right, I wasn't as drunk as I was earlier, still a little drunk but able to think just fine.
Or at least a little.
As the bike roared to life, I glanced over at the house for one last time, biting my lip as I feel as though I was leaving a part of me behind...
A part that I had lived to love.
I hate this ...
As we took off, my emotions couldn't contain themselves and I lowered my head as I felt tears run down my cheek and soak into the foam of the helmet.
It didn't take long for me to start sobbing and wailing the faster the bike went. The wind was fanning harshly against the helmet, and I was sure he couldn't hear me, but I was wrong.
He could hear me. I felt his hand snake around my waist and gently pinch my side, as though he was assuring me...
No he wasn't.
His head was almost tucked into my neck, even at this speed he wasn't fully staring at the road ahead.
What was he doing? I'm not really sure.
I felt him squeeze my waist even more the he buried himself in my neck and I could feel his warm breath fans against my skin.
This didn't last long as he leaned away and suddenly unclipped my helmet and removed it, forcing my hair to free itself and get carried away by the wind.
I blink, confused as he placed the helmet right between my thighs, as though signaling for me to hold onto it, so I did.
A part of me wished I didn't.
He leaned in even more, his breath hot against my skin as his hand returned to the handle but I could feel his lips in my hair, though barely touching it.
I could also make an outline of his nose... as though he was trying to catch the scent off my hair.
I wasn't sure but it did feel like it...
"Your scent..." His raspy and deep voice sent a shiver down my spine.
It felt intimate... too intimate.
But strangely, I didn't move, neither was I afraid about crushing into a tree at the speed we were going at.
I didn't know why I felt neither the fear of being taken away, nor getting into an accident.
It could be the alcohol, maybe, but I was sure if was him.
About the warmth from his body that embraced my entire back, covering me like a blanket.
He felt like an angel of death wrapped in a warm blanket.
Forest... I had been so lose in focusing on the way his body was warm on mine that I didn't notice we were surrounded by trees.
And we had been doe a while.
I didn't notice when we had escapes the city lights as buildings, now running into the thick and dense trees that only embraced the dead of night.
It felt like I was driving into the mouth of a demon that only stretched and widened where the headlights touched.
Where was he taking me...?
I felt my heart jolts the more the air hot against face, the more clear my mind became and I felt scared.
Get rid of her. Didn't my ex husband say something in those lines?
Was he really about to kill me and burry me in the cold ground, down where no one would find me?
Did it matter? Where else would you have gone? He didn't leave any money to survive off of on that card.
I eased my shoulders as I took a deep and shaky breath, calming myself as I decided to accept my fate and whatever was in store for me.
The sooner I accepted it, the better it would be.
"Don't sleep." I heard him whisper into my ear and I couldn't help but feel warm from his voice alone.
I opened my eyes, only to embrace the lights of what seemed like a mansion tucked away in the thick forest, surrounded by nothing except for trees and darkness that has been kept at bay.
It looked like a villa, but it was a cabin, made entirely out of wood with a cozy feel to it.
Who's house was this?
The bike suddenly came to a slow stop right in front of this mansion that I couldn't take my gaze off of.
It looked like a rich man lived here. The boss of many high end companies.
"Get down." He said a moment later when it hadn't registered that he had stopped. I nod shakily and got off, the fear of being buried in the dirt had vanished and now I was more intrigued by the large mansion in front of me.
"Who.. lives here?" I had to ask as I looked up at him, only to stare into a set of dark cold eyes.
The darkest set of eyes I had ever in that even the light from the house did nothing to face them.
He looked evil... I could see the gaze of a man who and seen and done things he wasn't willing to say.
"Me." His voice was affirmative, almost ending any more questions I would ask, but I still did.
"What's your occupation–."
"You don't want to know." He reached down and held onto my waist, pulling me to him. "This is your fault."
I didn't know what he meant at the time, but was soon going to find out.
- Writer
