Behave

What did he just say? I must not have heard him right. Though, I’m scared to hear him again.
“W-What?”
“You heard me,” he refuses to repeat.
I shake my head, “What are you talking about? Just give me my stuff or I’ll go to the police!”
He grins. It’s small and menacing, reveling mischievous deeds.
“You think I’m scared of the police?”
My body becomes tense. What can that possibly mean? Is he some kind of felonious criminal? If so, I shouldn’t be around him. But his stare keeps pulling me. I swallow, my throat dry.
“Who are you?” I itch.
“They call me Heath,” he flicks his cigarette bud away, “And I’m very dangerous. So you’re going to do what I tell you.”
Now, I’m frozen by his icy words. There is no more ease.
“I’m not doing any—”
He cuts me off, “I want you to go inside the club again and get me the silver gun. It’s in Cobalt’s room in the back. it shouldn’t be too hard. It’s the door below the stairs. If it’s not in plain sight, it’s in a drawer or something.”
“No!” I shout.
He scoffs, not amused.
“Yes you are. Get me the gun. I give your stuff back.”
A gun? Not on my life.
“You’re out of your mind,” I say.
“You have no idea,” he says, pulling me back towards the club.
“Hey! Let me go! I’m not doing anything you say! Get it yourself! Let go!”
“I would if I could. But I can’t.”
he then shoves me in the club and the flashing lights disrupt my vision. He’s just awful. Maybe if I do it, he’ll leave me alone. I find the place Heath speaks of. The door has the letter C spray painted over it. I slowly push the door and stick my head to see what’s pat it. It looks like a dark office. There’s a desk and boxes. But more importantly, there is a man sitting in a chair, with a girl, sexing it up. I grimace at the sudden sight and try to focus looking for the gun. My heart is leaping, afraid of something going terribly wrong. But it’s right there. I see it over the desk. I can reach for it and make a run for it. But if the door makes noise, the two might notice me. I tip toe in, thanks to the loud music.
“What are you doing?” the man spots me in the corer of his eye.
I grab the gun and run through the door. I hide it under my arm and squeeze through the crowd again. I think I’m having a heart attack. I run out the club and find Heath, smoking a new cigarette.
“Took you long enough,” he stares.
“Here’s what you want!” I hand him the gun, completely out of breathe. “Now give me my stuff and leave me alone!”
He takes it, keeping his eyes on me. He gives me my key and my phone. I sigh, thankful that I didn’t die tonight and longing to go home. I make a sacred swear in my head to never come around this part of town for as long as I live. But, interrupting my thoughts, Heath suddenly latches his strong arm around my neck. He hovers his face just nanometers away from mine. I feel his hot breath on my raw skin.
“Thanks, love,” he says.
Heath punctures my lips with his. Shock travels through my body. My mind shuts down and all thoughts are executed. My lungs quit on me. His velvet lips explore my mouth, contacting uncharted territory. I feel awful. But it feels good. Just as my mouth begins accepting such unknown feeling, he pulls away. He walks off without looking back. I’m stricken. The touch of him lingers on me. What was that? I bite my swollen lips. I can’t help but punish them. I draw my fingers through my hair. My mind aches. It’s thinking of him now.

My thoughts dance on my head. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Heath again. Thank goodness. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I go from home to work, trying to live my ordinary life again. I spear my mother the late details of my troubles when she calls. I get ready to leave work, putting on my sweatshirt over my shoulders, when I see the bad girl walk in the staff room. Speechless, I stare.
“Oh, hey,” she jeers.
“What the heck?” I utter, “What are you even doing here?”
She raises her brows high, “I work here.”
“Once a month?”
She shrugs, “Sort of.”
“Why?”
Well, why am I talking to her?
She smirks, “I’ve got other jobs.”
Don’t ask.
“Like what?”
“A good girl like you wouldn’t want to know,” she pouts.
I roll my eyes and walk off. She’s probably right. I wouldn’t want to know. She’s sketchy and I don’t admire her. I leave.

I turn the corner to my street. It’s almost midnight. There are two shadows across the road. I try to quicken my pace. When my eyes watch the two approaching, I try to breathe normal and not look back. The footsteps behind me come closer and faster. I curse under my breath and begin to run as quick as my legs can take me. I’m just blocks away from my apartment. I hope they won’t follow me and just go their own way. An arm yanks me backwards, forcing me to stumble out of my run. I scream, dreadful. I waste no time trying to fight off the men.
“Let me go!” I scream.
My things fall on the ground. The man wraps his arm around my neck. I try kicking the other man with my legs. I start choking as they pull me away. I scratch the guy’s arm and dig my nails into his skin, trying to inflict pain for him to loosen his grip. But he smothers my screams with his hand. They take me into a parking lot behind some building. I constantly elbow the guy holding me hostage. The other one opens a car door and they try pushing me inside. I put my foot against the car door, pushing back. Before I know it, the kidnapper backhands me. The hit hurts like hell, stinging my face. I want to cry. Suddenly, I’m dropped to the ground and I hear the men struggling. I look up and see them being beaten up by another person. Holding my swollen cheek, I back away to the brick wall. It’s Heath. He throws punches at the guys, injuring to the point where they can’t even get up. When he’s satisfied with the damage he’s inflicted, he spits. One is unconscious and not moving and the other is groaning and shaking on the side. I swallow hard, frozen. He then looks over to me. Our eyes meet. I still don’t feel safe. My eyes plead for him to not hurt me. I cry. My tears roll down. He takes a step closer.
“Stay away!” I shout.
I wipe my wet tears. He comes anyway. I try getting up on my feet to run away, but he reaches me first. His hard hand lifts me to my wobbling feet.
“You know I can’t do that,” he says in a low tone. My pulse is rising, as he gets closer. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
I pull away, “I’ll take myself home.”
He just looks at me. I guess he’s not giving me a choice. He walks ahead and I follow by his side. I fold my arms across my chest after picking up my bag. Heath walks with his hands in his pockets. He wears a thin t-shirt. I wonder how he’s not feeling cold. Perhaps he doesn’t feel at all. Yeah, that’s more probable. I’m shivering like a leaf, though. We finally reach my apartment. I don’t say anything when I notice he walks behind me all the way to my door. I push the key in the door and pause.
“You’re not coming in,” I look to him.
“Says you,” he throws back.
His hand hovers on mine, impatiently turning the lock open and pushing the door free. No, this guy can’t just walk in my place! I groan, knowing I have no power over him.