Kalina never knew much about her family, only that she had brothers, a mother and a father who never wanted her. After the abuse her mother put her through, Kalina was broke beyond repair. With the help from a motorcycle gang she built herself back...
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The silence of the night was beautiful, I could see the stars in the sky from Aidan's bed, the curtains having been left open. Lorenzo went to bed hours ago, sleeping in the room next door, loving the fact that his bed was massive.
Aidan was sleeping peacefully beside me, his long dark lashes resting against his cheeks, his breathing calm and even. The bandages still covered his abdomen and shoulder, the one on his thigh being a simple gauze. I cleaned and changed the dressing of the wounds before I forced him into bed, to which he weakly protested.
Feeling hungry, I decided that it was only fitting I eat the chocolate bar in the kitchen cabinet because... well I wanted to.
Slipping out the bed was easy, as I only had one of Aidan's arms to escape from as I forbade him from using his left as it was still healing. Pulling on a pair of Aidan's boxers and one of his hoodies, I quietly opened the bedroom door and snook out.
I wandered into the kitchen, stifling a yawn with my hand as my bare feet hit the wooden floor. Opening the fridge, I went to look inside when I thought I saw something in the corner of my eyes.
"Carter?" I questioned, wondering if I actually saw him or if it was just my imagination.
When I got no response, I concluded the latter. Grabbing the carton of milk, I filled a glass with the contents and got the chocolate bar out the cabinet.
Carrying it to the kitchen island, I quietly ate my midnight snack and drank my milk. It wasn't until I heard the sound of footsteps did I realise it wasn't my imagination earlier.
Reaching under the kitchen island, I pulled out the pistol I knew Aidan stored there. But before I could turn around, I was slammed head first onto the counter, knocking the glass off the surface and hearing it smash to the floor.
The person smashed the butt of their gun into my wrist, causing an agonised shout to leave my lips, and the pistol go flying from my grip onto the kitchen floor.
"Shut up." A feminine, Irish accent with a lick of Italian came from behind me.
The weight of the person eased off. "Turn around."
Doing as she said, I turned on the spot with my hands in the air. In front of me was Bianca, a gun held tightly in her grasps as she pointed it at my head.
"Bianca." I said, a softness in my tone. "What are you doing?"
"You ruined it. You ruined everything!" There was an emptiness in her icy eyes, her blonde hair slightly matted and skin a ghostly pale.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, watching as her hands shook slightly, making me even more weary about the gun.
"Spencer!" She cried. "He loved you."
Please tell me someone heard that glass smash
"And... that ruined things for you." I clarified in an understanding tone, doing what I could to not provoke her.
