West Coast

I think I might have been going crazy. Perhaps I was dreaming and could walk away and never look back. That's what happened in books, right? My mind was fuzzy and the way he was looking at me... It was either 'I think you're cute' or 'I'm going to kill you.' Either one was not okay.

I turned sharply on my heel, hoisting my back pack higher over my shoulders and taking a step back towards the entrance of the alley. The sun was lowering now, I should've been home by now. I took about three steps until I stepped on a piece of glass, and it broke again, sending a shrill snap around the tight walls.

I winced and looked over my shoulder to see if the green-eyed boy was still there. He wasn't and a warm turmoil developed in my belly. Was he trusting me to keep his secret? Was he letting me go?

With my mind still fuzzy from my new thoughts, I turned around, seeing the dark chestnut curls come into view. I stopped mid-step, my bottom lip in between my teeth. Had I missed something? How did he move so fast?

"Don't be stupid. You can't run from me." His tone was harsh, his brows pulled together over his eyes in concentration. I laughed in his face, the sound bouncing off the walls around us. I had just watched him murder a man and he didn't think I was going to run?

My back turned to him and I took three more steps before being shoved roughly against the brick wall. It was hard enough that my breath left me and my eyes closed waiting for the impact of my head. After the pain pulsed twice through my brain, I looked straight at him.

His eyes were glowing with anger and a slimmer of satisfaction was hidden there too.

"Don't even try leaving. I'll find you. And I will kill you."

The truth behind his words sent frightened shivers down my spine. We stared at each other for silent moments.

"Why won't you just kill me now?"

He smirked and leaned away, still keeping his tight grip on my wrists that were pinned to the wall. His body heat was overwhelming and causing a slight layer of sweat to cover my chest and arms. "I'd like to do a couple things with you first."

My brows furrowed. What did he mean?

He chuckled, the vocals bouncing everywhere and shaking my head, clearing it from the haze it was under. "You're innocent." He cooed, placing his face directly in front of mine, his breath hitting my lips and spreading over the rest of my face. It was calming and nerve-wrecking at the same time.

"I am not!" I defended, struggling to get out of his grip, for, which I note, the first time.

He smiles, producing deep indentures in his cheeks and I lose my breath again. He loosens his grip though, not enough to where I could get away, but enough to provide space.

"It's okay." He says. We make eye contact again and I pout. Why is he so gorgeous?! He's a freaking killer... Aren't they supposed to be scary looking with dark eyes and ugly clothing? Old? He couldn't have been any older than 22. 20, if I was really pushing it.

"I'm not innocent." I rushed out again, flailing my arms around. His release broke and I was finally free. It seemed to be his intention because he stepped back completely, a slow smirk on his face.

"Run, if you want." He noticed my desperate look towards the entrance.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked again.

"Maybe."

I bit my lip, grabbed my bag, and booked it down the alley.

Notes