~Chapter 35 ~
Ragged gasps tore from my lungs as I desperately tried to escape. I didn’t know if it was they were coming for or who but I didn’t like this feeling of uncertainty that had settled in .
Suddenly, a hand shot out from behind, grabbing my arm and i was spun around. My eyes eting the smoker’s, his irises red-rimd from the endless puffs.
"Where do you think you’re going?" he sneered, his breath a noxious mix of nicotine and stale beer that made my stomach turn. "I was talking to you nicely, but that isn’t how you like it, huh?" His tone dripped with malice, and I struggled against his grip, panic clawing at my chest.
"I said I’m not interested." My voice trembled and his hold got tighter and harsher than that guy from the vip lounge.
Why did this keep happening to ? Couldn’t I just have one mont of peace? Every ti I thought I’d found freedom, a new threat erged. I always end up getting in situations like this.
He began dragging toward his group of friends, and I dug my heels into the ground, struggling to break free. My legs scraped against the pavent, skin bruising beneath my weight. "Let go! What do you want?" I demanded, keeping my voice steady despite the fear coursing through .
"Your company," the smoker growled, dragging deeper into the heart of their camp. I stumbled, my feet getting more bruised from my struggles on the rough ground as he pulled along.
On reaching the group, I was t with a sea of unfriendly faces - at least ten of them, both n and won, surrounded us, shrouded in a haze of smoke that was everywhere.
The smoker dumped onto his lap, as he fell into the chair, my skin crawling at the unwanted contact. I squird, desperate to escape, but he only groaned out.
"Hell no," I muttered, pushing myself up and he groaned again, "Continue that, and it wouldn’t be only your company I need." His words sent a dread down my spine as he took a long drag from his cigarette.
The gesture reminded of Mr. Salvatore, my torntor, who always seed to have a cigarette dangling from his lips. The mory made fear creep into , and I froze, my struggles montarily halted.
The creep threat effectively stopped my struggle and I glanced around at the group.
They all looked like thugs - both the n and won. Their faces were hardened, their eyes cold and red-rimd, no doubt it was from the endless smoking. What had I gotten myself into?
"Puff," the man on whose lap I was trapped said, holding a cigarette to my lips. I jerked my head sideways, avoiding the noxious smoke. "Co on, take a drag. It’s tradition," he all but whined, his voice grating on my nerves.
Before I could respond, a girl sitting across from us spoke up. "Frank, stop forcing people to smoke." Her voice was as husky as a male with a hint of amusent.
The irony wasn’t lost on - she was puffing on a cigarette herself, the smoke curling around her dark leather jacket and jeans. A bold, black lipstick plastered on her full lips.
Frank turned to her, his expression indifferent. "What? I saw she’s in a bad mood, Aria." Aria raised an eyebrow, taking another drag before responding.
"So, what’s your business with her mood?" Her tone was light, but I detected a hint of warning beneath the surface.
I watched the exchange, montarily forgetting about my precarious situation, sitting on frank thighs.
Frank’s response was defensive. "Hey, I was just being nice." His eyes flicked back to , as if wanting to back him up.
Nice? There was nothing nice about his actions.
"Nice, in making soone an addict like you, sure," Aria shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm.
She looked effortlessly cool, exchanging banter with the hulking Frank. Their argunt wasn’t heated, but rather a familiar, friendly bickering.
The others present didn’t seem to care, continuing to chat and smoke with abandon.
Aria stood up, her dark leather jacket creaking as she moved. "Oh, shut up, Frank." She stepped closer, bringing back to their conversation.
Frank stood up as well, pulling to my feet, his arm wrapping around my waist, not letting go.
"What’re you going to do, Aria?" Frank sneered.
Aria’s response was imdiate. "Fuck off, Frank."
Frank snickered. "Why don’t you co shut it?"
Aria’s eyes narrowed, and she grabbed my arm, trying to pull free from Frank’s grasp. But Frank held tight, his fingers digging into my skin.
"Let her go, pervert," Aria spat, venomous, successfully yanking out of Frank’s grasp, spinning around to face her.
She walked back to her seat, her arm still wrapped around mine.
Frank’s voice echoed through the air. "Nice one, bitch." Aria’s response was a dismissive middle finger, which she flashed over her shoulder as she sat back down. She patted the seat beside her.
Should I sit down with her or make a run for it? The group looked rugged and rough around the edges, but Aria had an aura that made her seem approachable, soone you could be comfortable around.
I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, so why not sit down and chat? I had no cash on , so even if they were thieves, I had nothing to lose.
I settled into the chair beside her, the worn leather creaking beneath . She turned to , her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What’s your na?" she asked, her voice husky from years of smoking.
Hesitating for a mont before responding, I already know her na from Frank calling her Aria, so why not. "Katya." Aria’s gaze lingered on , her expression unreadable. She took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing bright red in the dim light.
"Cool na," she said finally, exhaling a stream of smoke. She ran a hand through her black hair, her eyes never leaving mine.
"So, what are you doing on the most dangerous street at night, all by yourself in that...little number?" She gestured to my outfit with her cigarette hand, her tone dripping with disdain.
A flush rise to my cheeks as I glanced down at my dress. Truth be told, it was damned short, and I was glad Aria had pointed it out. But her words also sent a fear into .
If this area was dangerous, as she claid, then that ant I was in danger, too.
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