unLUCKY

2

Chapter Two

"You're not really an officer, are you?" I asked, cautiously jumping down from the dumpster. I landed with a loud thud, unconsciously reaching down to soothe my aching feet as the weight of my body reminded me just how heavy I was and how sore they were.

"Hey! Keep your hands up!" He shouted, completely ignoring my question. His booming voice bounced off the wall, scaring the crap out of me.

My hands obediently shot back into the air as I muttered a quick apology, stopping dead in my tracks to await his next words of command.

"Name and purpose for being out here." He demanded, walking towards me.

He stopped a few feet away.

A chill raced down my spine at his intimidating presence, and I unconsciously shivered, trying hard not to cower in fear, which was easier said than done.

“Stop moving!” he growled, leveling the gun to the height of my head.

I flinched. My breath caught in my throat. However, more alarming was a flicker. I swear his eyes flashed golden, if but for a split second... or maybe I was being paranoid.

“I‐ I'm sorry," I tried to keep still, but there was nothing I could do to get my hammering heart under control.

“Move again, and I won't hesitate to blow your goddamn head off." the man threatened, his voice stern and icy cold.

I didn't survive one attack to die at the hands of another, so I did what any good hostage would do when faced with danger – I bit down on my lower lip to taper my responses. “Yes, sir,”

I heard him growl, my politeness seemingly angering him, but he said nothing of it as he stepped closer.

“Now answer me. What’s your affiliation with the Cripz Side Crew?” he questioned, never softening his tone.

"The what side who?" I'd never heard of them, but I'm guessing they might have been the ones who chased me. "Do you mean those guys?"

I threw my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the fallen guy, for reference.

"Yes, them."

"It was only a predator–prey relationship.... much like this one." I muttered, letting my voice drop lower.

"What's that?" He questioned, stepping even closer, the heat of his gaze making me squirm in discomfort.

"You don't need to come any closer."

"Oh, but I want to, I don't want to miss anything else you might say." I was pleasantly surprised at the dramatic change in his tone. It was still menacing, but he seemed to enjoy invoking fear into me.

Then, finally, being within arm's reach of me, he placed the cold piece of metal against my chest, however, it wasn't pressed firmly, and my eyes briefly flicked down to see his grip loosely on it.

In my head, I could easily take it and fire. He'd be dead, and I'd be free.

This could either go very wrong or very right... I'd never know until I–

I grabbed the gun.... successfully?

Wow, am I good or am I good?

Who's the boss now, punk?

I had no clue what I was doing, but he didn't have to know that.

I pointed it at his heart, expecting fear to cripple him as he pleaded for his life.

But instead, he chuckled.

Chuckled!! Like what the hell?

"Go ahead... shoot." He dared me as I looked up into his face. The close proximity gave me a better glimpse of him.

Damn, he was gorgeous. Why did it always have to be the good-looking ones? He was the definition of a handsome devil.

He could have chosen to be a model with those features and I would have been a fan girl, I might have even persuaded daddy to invite him to the white house as a bodyguard– or boyfriend, but no, he just had to be the bad guy.

Too bad it had to end like this.

"Do it." He probed like an imp, his piercing blue eyes practically glowing in the dim alleyway. Not even the deep scar slashed in his right eyebrow could subtract from that beauty. If anything, it made him seem more alluring.

He was mesmerizing, drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

Shoot, focus.

He stepped closer, making sure the metal rested firmly against his chest. "Just making sure you wouldn't miss."

I held it there, trying to steady my trembling hand. "I'm going to shoot." I warned.

But amusement only danced on his lips as he cracked a teasing smirk. "Did you say that to convince me or yourself."

"Ugh!" I grunted, "I'm going to" my pointing finger applied pressure on the trigger. "... I really am..." My head turned slightly away, my eyes too afraid or maybe ashamed to witness the pitiful sight. "I'm... I... I can’t." A defeated exhale forced its way out my throat.

"That's what I thought." He chuckled, casually taking the gun from my hand. "But I'm not you." He aimed the gun just over my shoulder, and a shot ran out, my head spun around just in time to see the explosion of blood, splattering everywhere. I jumped at the horrific scene. The man lying on the black garbage bag was now definitely dead– like dead, dead.

"So, now, are you going to start talking?"

I physically gulped in fear. He definitely wasn't playing around, and now wasn't the time to play hero. He was the one with the gun, and he'd just proven to me that he wasn't afraid to use it.

“Name?” the man asked.

"Tessa" I replied quickly.

"You're lying."

"And how would you know?"

He circled my heart with the metal. "Your heart. It’s beating faster, and you're sweating,"

"Could it be because I'm terrified of you?"

"No, because if you were, you'd answer the damn question truthfully and stop beating around the bush."

"Fine, Samantha." That was my name, a name millions of others had. There was no way he'd know who I was simply by my first name if he didn't already know me by my face.

"Samantha what?"

I hesitated.

"And don't you dare lie to me, again."

"Smith." I begrudgingly muttered.

"Samantha Smith." He repeated as if testing it out on his lips.

The way he said my name instantly gave me goosebumps, "Here's cold" I mumbled awkwardly in my defense, averting my gaze from the faint smirk he wore.

"Are you family to the President by any chance?"

"N–" I caught his gaze. "Yes, but distant–" that look again. "His daughter." I sighed. "Why does it seem like you know so much about me already, and I know nothing about you?" I dared to ask.

He seemed to think about it for a moment. "Ok fine. You're allowed one question... only one. So what do you want to know?" He lowered his gun and stared at me, waiting.

OK, I had one shot. "Your name?"

"Hmm, of all that you could know about me, you chose my name."

I nodded. With a name, I could get a whole lot more from a simple search, and I was sure to search him up and get him put away for some good time.

"Ok, I'm Lucky."

"Lucky to meet me?" I snicker involuntarily.

I swear he growled and tapped the metal, probably reminding me he still had it. That got me quiet real quick. He lowered the gun again, tucking it into his back pocket with a satisfied grin.

I cleared my throat. “Lucky? That’s not your real name, though, is it?”

"I see comprehension isn't your strong suit."

My brow drew together, confused.

"I said one question, one. Sounds to me like that was another one."

“Well it wasn't, it was simply the second part to the first question. You never said my question couldn't have subdivisions." I pouted, offended by his comment. I knew I shouldn’t be taking an attitude with a thug who carried a gun, but I couldn’t help it. He sure knew how to get under my skin.

Lucky studied me, looking me up and down amused. "President's daughter, you say?"

"Yes, what? I don't look elegant enough?"

"Not that, where are your bodyguards, my lady?" He teasingly questioned.

"Looking for me right now as we speak, so if you're planning on doing anything to me, just know you won't get away with it."

"Really?" He chuckled, stepping even closer, only stopping when he was mere inches away from my face. A smirk lined those sexy lips. Shot. I could feel the hot air from his nostrils caressing my forehead as he towered over me. I had to crane my neck to look into those ocean eyes. Gosh, I hadn’t noticed how tall he was until now. I was average height for a woman, but he was at least a few feet taller, if not more.

Damn it, why did he have to choose such a life? He would have made one fine bodyguard, and daddy would have never had to worry about me trying to escape, ever again. "Let me see your ID." His voice was almost sultry, his scent making my mouth water.

Shoot, pull it together, Sam.

His brow rose suspiciously. "ID” he repeated.

I shook my head. “I don’t have any form of ID on me.”

"Ok then give me your phone. Your father's contact should be in it, right?"

Instinctively, I shoved my hands into my pockets to retrieve my phone. "Are you planning to hold me for random?" I questioned, still digging. Wait, oh shoot. I ditched it. I shook my head again. "I don't have it."

"I don't believe you." He frowned, narrowing his eyes to slits.

He was able to tell when I was lying. Now, when I was honest, he didn't believe me? "Fine, see for yourself." I held up my hands for him to search me.

He leaned in, encircling me, his hands snaking around my waist as he stuck his hands in my back pocket to confirm.

His scent engulfed me, filling my nostrils. My heart instantly went into overdrive, and my feet nearly buckled. He was intoxicating, and I fought with every fiber in me not to moan.

He held me for far too long, yet not long enough. But I swear once again, I heard him growl into my neck before pulling back, the tingle of his breath still lingering on my skin. His eyes flicked gold for a split second. "Your story checks out, no phone, no ID."

I wanted to fire back, 'I told you so', but I felt stuck in a trance. One blink, and his eyes were back to normal, blue again as if I had only imagined it in my head. I felt like I was going crazy imagining things and feeling things. Was it really all in my head?

He cleared his throat, bringing me back to my senses. "So I'm free to go now?"

He shook his head. "You'll be coming with me."

"But I'm no treat, you know that. So why drag me with you into your crazy life." I protested.

"Because you still have to pay for interfering with my plans." His aura turned dark, his tone deep with hidden meanings.

A chill slithered down my spine at the sound of his voice. It was not just his words, but the way he spoke them. It was equally arousing as it was terrifying. He screamed danger, but I felt like the Dare Devil– drawn to the thrill of danger.

"Pay? How much do you want? Name your price, I'll get it to you."

He cracked a smile and stepped back. “You’re funny, aren't you? Good sense of humor... I like that."

I internally sighed in relief, feeling slightly flattered. He liked me.

“But I don't want money. You are the payment.”

“What?" His words took me by surprise. "Are you trying to recreate some beauty and the beast type nonsense?” I threw my hand on my hip, feeling like a damn yo-yo. Drawn in and let down.

"You would like that, won't you.... to weave your way into my life and turn this beast into your prince charming?" he questioned, arching his brow.

"Tempting, but I'm no Belle." I fired back. "What I really want is to go home."

"Too bad we don't always get what we want. I wanted those guys, and you ruined it, so now you're coming with me." He smirked.

Defiantly, I stood my ground, and with a smile, he simply raised his gun to me.

Shoot forgot about that.

"Shall we?" He motioned with his head for me to start walking.

"Damn psycho" I muttered under my breath as I prepared myself to walk to where he was leading. I mean, what other choice did I have? What else could I do when he had a gun pointed right at me?