Zara

Two hours, the clock blaring 4 am in bright green, was the amount of sleep I could get after coming in and fixing myself up before passing out. Two fucking hours before I heard the clacking of her heels like an assembly of birds, cawing at passersby.

"Click." On our wooden floors, the ones she claimed were great for her to practice her dancing. She could easily sway and glide throughout the house.

"Click." My ears hone in on the second and third pair of footfalls on the floors; bigger and heavier, they coarse a small groan from the same floorboards. Fuck buddies of her I assume, which will only make this sweeter.

"Click." Her movements stop, and I can picture her eyes roaming the dark space before falling on the small shards of diamond shimmering under the hues of the moonlight hanging from the top of my door, just for her.

Her shrill scream penetrates the wooden door and I grin so wide I could be confused for the joker. The door swings open, slamming hard against the wall. I'm sure she left a dent that will only cost her more to replace, filling me with even more delight if it were possible. Her blazing chocolate brown eyes which are more molten now, fall onto my now sitting frame and humor-filled face. They narrow into thin slits as she watches me like a predator, assessing her prey, ready to pounce. I let my face fall, giving her the false impression that she has me quaking and resenting my actions, but I can't control the chuckle that erupts instead. My eyes were unable to keep from landing on the red dress clutched tightly under her thin bony fingers like a precious jewel.

"I'm going to kill you," she warns as she drops the dress to the floor, a pile of red satin under her, making her look like a celebrity on the red carpet. It was once a beautiful sight to behold, but now it was nothing more than tattered discarded fabric on a cold wooden floor. It didn't take long to finish what the guys in the alley had helped me accomplish, ruining the silky material.

I wore it to piss her off but I couldn't deny how it made me feel when I wore it. Like a majestic princess, capable of anything, which I was. The silk felt weightless, barely adding pressure to my bruising and bloodied body. It provided coverage of red to the blood spilling from me, no one would be able to tell something was wrong. That was always appreciated, but it was also the reason I now held a grudge against the color red.

When I walked into the apartment, I was granted a choice. Let things go and pretend the night never happened or throw myself into more unnecessary trouble. The thing was, I could never go back. I was being targeted and knew I would have to leave soon. Yet, as I stood over the mirror, unwrapping the thin fabric from my weakened body, and looking at the small scars that would form from the night, I was pissed. At my daddy's house, I would be patched up instantly and wouldn't have to worry about the bruises. I was taken care of. I learned the simple things in case it was needed during fieldwork, but major things were always covered by the on-call doctor.

Now, I was alone. My mind determined to leave, I quickly fling a white crop tank top with black soft shorts before hastily running to Cornelia's room.

Feeling the purple plush carpet under my feet, providing warmth on my bare skin I didn't think I needed, I maneuvered to her walk-in closet, ignoring how elaborate she decorated this room. Picture frames of her covered the walls, throw pillows of satin and frill on the corners with a giant hanging lantern in the center. Twinkling lights on the top, add a soft glow to the prima ballerina's room. It was the polar opposite of mine, while hers was full of small trinkets and decked out on the best money could buy, mine was barren like a desert wasteland. We argued about it when I first moved in, Cornelia claiming she could capture my essence, arguments ensued before she caved- claiming the emptiness captured me perfectly.

I grab a purple suitcase and begin filling it with her clothes. Anything I could find that wouldn't call attention. Once done, I reach for her jewelry box, the little porcelain ballerina popping up and twirling in beautiful melodic moments to the mezzo-piano melody of Swan Lake. I close it, deciding to take the whole thing. If I was already stealing from her, stealing another precious trinket wouldn't matter.

I fling the luggage to my room and set it by the corner, finally making my way to the bathroom again and scooping up the red satin fabric in my hands, ready to throw it in the trash, but pause as I look at the slimy material. The color bleeding into my eyes, turning my resolve to unbridled rage. Stealing didn't feel enough to make her pay for making me wear such a dreadful color, and justified or not, I wanted her to pay for that.

So I grab the material and begin working on it. Once done, I hang it where I know her view will not be obstructed.

And now, I give her a wicked smirk as I open my arms and mock her. "I'm right here." She was just a pretty little ballerina that I could kill with a snap of the neck. I would be long gone before anyone questioned what happened to her. Jane would be the prime suspect but after tonight, Plane Jane would cease to exist.

She steps closer and my breath hitches slightly as my eyes snag on the two muscular men bulldozing their way in through the too tiny for them- doorway. My face falls, realizing that my escape plan was too late.

This time, there was nothing that hid their dangerously yet unmistakable gorgeous faces that were shamefully hidden from me earlier. They both radiate a calm, as if they hadn't been fighting me moments ago. But, it's the look of pure delight dancing in their eyes as if they were on a roller coaster ride, waiting for the drop, in their handsome faces that tick me off.

The one who I identified as the tall one has ashy blonde hair that curled over his hazel eyes slightly, broad shoulders, bulging muscles that were itching to escape under his black tailored suit. I won't be surprised if it was custom made from France. His lip curled in a juvelent glean, letting me know he was always up for mischievous fun while his eyes were filled with childlike wonder.

Then the guy beside him, the doctor. With soft gray eyes and a sharp jawline, and black hair matted back, he could bring anyone to their knees- a willing prey. He wore a black tight t-shirt that lightly hid a faint scar near his collarbone and gray sweatpants as if his day off was just cut off by noise teens, and he had to come see what the fuss was about. His stern expression didn't stop the encasement of pure entertainment from seeping into his blood streams, as if I was putting on a show just for them.

Cornelia manages to jump on top of me and pin me under her body as the boy lets out a small wolf whistle. We were nothing more than girls in a cage match to them, fighting for their attention. I scoff, I would never.

Ignoring them, I focus my attention on the brunette that is clawing at me like a feral cat with her fake acrylic nails that match in studded diamonds and color to the dress she still wore. All I can do is deflect for the moment, waiting patiently until I find her weakness and strike. Instead, I ask the question now plaguing me.

"Did you have them go after me because of a guy?" The question sounds stupid on my lips, about last I had seen Cornelia, she was downing a tequila shot as if it was water.

She lets out a small chuckle before replying, her lips formed in a snarl. "I don't really get what he sees in you," she told me.

"We do," the chorus comes from the doorway and I glare at them.

"Get out," she grits at them.

"Jealous?" I question in a mocking tone, grabbing her full attention. Her eyes narrow at me as her arms stop moving, as if wondering if she should respond truthfully or not. Using her hesitance, I quickly twist my legs over hers and flip us over on the bed.

"He tried to have you killed," she bites out, "so instead of calling me jealous you should take the hint."

I laugh at her as I land a punch on her high cheekbones, swearing that I can see the glitter rubbing on my knuckles now. I drop my hands as she makes no move to fight but just glare up at me. "Seems the opposite actually." I stand up and begin walking toward my dresser where I hid the new knife I was adding to my collection. "Seems like he wanted me so much he sent men after me-" I whirl around with the knife in one hand and holding two fingers up with the other, "twice." My elation died down quickly as I realized another mistake on my part. Just like they had underestimated me, I had underestimated the ballerina.

I shrug, it didn't matter now, I knew the small quaint apartment like the back of my hand and had a knife I planned on fully using. Just something else to pin on good old plain Jane. But just in case one wasn't enough, I quickly grabbed another and tucked it in my short pocket, under the waistband of my brand new black thong.

The knife in my grip, I tip-toe gently out of my room, my eyes fully alert as I look around for her. Suddenly, the small of my back is being pressed so hard that I fly toward the small purple plush chair and hear it squeak as I take it with me. Seems she never left the room. I turn around to glare at her, as I try to gain my balance.

This puts me at a disadvantage she uses to her own, smiling at me, before throwing a kick directly at my face. The hit lands on my own cheek as I tumble down on the floor. The force has me losing hold of my knife and she quickly comes and steps on my hand as her other foot slides it away from me.

I'm not even mad at her, I can only blame myself for letting her get the better of me. Rule one was; never underestimate your opponent because just like a hippo who is placid, can become aggressive when provoked. It was a fascinating fact to learn, and taught me well over the years. It was just that living with her, it felt like she was just another airhead heiress, living in a bubble of happiness and pride. But it seemed that Cornelia wasn't just a cute prancing heiress, but worked for dangerous men and that definitely made her more of an obstacle that had to go.

"Hey Cor- where do you keep the ham?" A voice calls from the kitchen to our left.

She turns to yell at one of them, but I quickly grab her foot with my free hand and pull, cutting off any words she would have spoken. She stumbles down and I quickly climb on top of her and get in another straight punch to her nose, the cracking cartilage making me swell with pride. "I've been wanting to do that since I met you," I smile down at her as she shrieks in outrage.

"You bitch," she yells at me although now it sounds more nasally I can barely make out the blundered words. I'm about to land another bone crunching punch before I am grabbed gruffly by the two men I seemed to have forgotten were part of this, and am lifted off of her. My hands are quickly tied by a rope that releases micro fibers into the air and I pretend to dramatically cough.

"Never taken prisoners as pretty as me before boys? You get high quality rope, not this cheap stuff for starters."

The blonde lets out a hearty laugh. "Well beautiful, you made a promise we were hoping you planned on keeping."

They pushed me toward the sink and I noticed it brimming with water. To the wide of the marble island layed a half made sandwich. "As soon as you untie my hands, pretty boy," I responded, "I will live up to the promise." Then I turned to the doctor, "scouts honor- asshole." They merely chuckle at me, clearly liking my bravado but seeing me as no threat.

I watch as Cornelia stands up, dusts herself off, and still glaring at me, walks over to grab some rolls of paper towels. She sticks them up on her nose and I can't help the small laugh that escapes me. She's quick and grabs the back of my hair before plunging me into the water. The ice cold water penetrates my skiing, leaving my teeth chattering when she pulls me out of it, her grip so tight I can feel the wig loosening. I would have dyed it, but my curls would have been harder to conceal and finding money to maintain the blonde roots was costly. She grips me back and with a nod of her head, the two men come closer and peel open my eyes.

"Do I even get to learn the names of my captors?" I say, trying to keep my calm when all I wanted to do was sink a knife into each of them. I knew I was outnumbered and even if I got away, I wouldn't make it far. But there was no way in hell I was going to make things easy for them. I was a fish on a hook, trapped but still swimming in hopes of escaping.

"Soon," one of them, I can't be sure who, says. Why the secrecy, I'm not sure.

Even with their holds, my eyes threaten to close as Cornelia places her index finger into my right eye, the contact sticking to her. She places it in the trash and looks at me. "You know, before you came I was very happy. I was just a ballerina and then I became involved in this mess. I was an only child so you can imagine what sharing with you feels like." Then to paint a picture she says, "Like little tiny shards of glass being stuck on my body."

"I'm an only child too, but my daddy did teach me to share," I tell her with a flat grin.

She grips my hair back again and repeats the process of extracting the other contact from my left eye. Then, she dunks my head back into the awaiting water. I struggle under her hold, being left there for several seconds before I hear a throat clearing and she releases me. My head bops up, gasping for all the air my lungs will allow me to fill them with. "Oops," is all she says but I can see the devilish smirk playing on her lips.

"You're lucky you have them," I tell her.

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Zara," she responds as she walks with a small bottle in her hands and a washcloth in the other. The way she says my name is like a bullet to the heart. She bites it out with fury, condescending, letting me know she knew my name since the very beginning. I shouldn't be surprised but her acknowledging it now made this all real. If I could just...I move my tied hands closer to me, trying to reach the knife I'm surprised hasn't fallen yet. It was just a small blade, but with the closeness I could easily stab one of them in the eye before grabbing the bigger one I dropped and end things here.

"Enough," a voice in the shadows resonates through the apartment. It is smooth like silk, deep like the Pacific Ocean, and darkness filled with uncertainty and warning. I look for him in the shadows now, but all I can make out of his silhouette from the moonlight is the broad shoulders, sharp jawline, prominent nose, his fingers grasped on the leather couch in the corner, and a cloud of smoke evaporating into darkness.

How long has he been there? Watching us- me, patiently waiting.

He stands up and each step he takes near me sends my heart into overdrive, as if now realizing how trapped I was- am. The energy he exudes is like a Uranium, strong and potent. His steps were delivered in small brush works, deliberate and powerful, he had no qualms on being here while that's all I had.

He could be working with my daddy. He could try and use me as leverage against him. He could do a million things and knowing how stubborn I am, I would fight to the death but the pain would still be inflicted.

He finally steps out of the shadows and my unnatural cobalt blue eyes clash with his emerald green ones you could only find hidden deeply in mines, and it's as if a thunderstorm began raging inside the apartment. His eyes brimmed with an intensity only matched by lava from a boiling volcano while mine were nothing short of the Arctic tundra. Both are chaotic in their ways, but both could cause serious damage.

"Hello, Deity," his voice is soft like a breeze in the fall. However, all they do is fill the room with a thick fog and my stomach curls in on itself. In the club I was at ease, so the word seemed like an innocent flirtation, but now it felt thick with emotion and meaning, suffocating me.

I don't respond.

In turn, he gives a lopsided, boyish smile that shows his charm, and my world goes black. 

>>>

So, I always try my best to correct with Grammarly but sometimes the loading takes forever on my end so apologies for mistakes because I get impatient and just tap out. I hope you enjoyed it. I know it's slow updates but I'm trying my best. Planning is not easy. Hope you all can understand and stay with me. 

Please vote, comment, and share.