No. I did not want to tell him why I was out late. For multiple reasons but mainly because it was none of his business. But since he knew my name, I made him my business.

I threw a hard look onto his face, my mouth in a tight line and my hands fisted on my lap.

"How do you know my name?" I asked him, each word pronounced suspiciously and with purpose. The purpose to get every dime of information out of this stranger.

The tattooed boy stared at me for a beat before he dropped his head back and let out a deep sigh. He looked back at me slowly, searching my face carefully.

"You're not shitting me." He muttered, dropping his head back on the bench again. I involuntary noted that he did those three times already in the space of two minutes. One more, he'd probably hurt himself.

"Why would I be shitting you?" I asked him with a raised brow, the solid fear of this boy washed down the drain the second my name came out of his mouth.

"You really aren't..." He replied back nonchalantly and not providing me with the answer I sought.

"Answer me!" I suddenly shouted, surprising both of us. Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrow at me.

"Well well well, if she didn't just raise her voice at me."

I literally screamed then, purely out of frustration.

"Shut up." He said, putting a hand over my mouth, muffling my scream. And then it hit me how shit scared I was and that fear that supposedly drained way? No, it was still there. It was after midnight. I was sitting with a total stranger - who just for your information looked scary under the light.

And he knew my name.

He put his hand away from my mouth and as soon as I felt the cold breeze on my lips, I opened my mouth and screamed again.

His hand came over my mouth just as quick.

I stared at him with wide eyes; like a deer caught in headlights and like a girl who just had her mouth cupped by a stranger. Tattoo boy was glaring at me with an icy look, his eyes showing every emotion in the semantic field of angry emotions. He looked royally mad and I knew my scream caused it all.

Stupid girl! Now he'll have his way with you since you made him mad, I say run.

"I'm going to move my hand now." The tattooed boy warned slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. They were very intense, and I found myself lost in the sea of depths that I didn't even feel him remove his hand.

"Good. Now let's take you home. I'm tired of you already."

I gaped at him but since my mouth opened slightly, the tattooed boy thought I was going to scream again. His hand covered my mouth instantly.

I started to shake my head, telling him I wasn't going to scream. He glowered at me. It was the whole deal, the deep frown that creased his forehead, the edge of his eyes twitching, his mouth curled up in a tight scowl. He looked frightening and a cold shiver ran down the back of my spine.

I physically crumbled in my seat on the bench, inwardly screaming.

"You gonna scream?"

I shook my head quickly.

"Are you sure?"

I bobbed my head quickly as well.

He dropped his hand and I made quick work of shutting it tightly.

Without another word, he stood up off the bench. I trained my eyes on him, watching his lean body stretch out. He started to walk away.

I watched his retreating form, admiring the smooth way he carried himself and the I'm-bad-and-I-know-it-vibe he had going. I was relieved he was leaving. The second he would round that corner I was going to make a run for it.

He stopped a few feet away, near the end of the street.

"You coming or what?"

My forehead creased up in confusion and I didn't answer him because I honestly convinced myself he was not speaking to me. Was he really expecting me to come with him? Willingly even?

I planted my backside firmly on the bench.

Okay, what happened next was all a blur. One second he was over there, the following second he was hovering over me, and then the following second I was over his shoulder.

His shoulder!

"What are you doing? Put me down!" I yelled, fisting my hands and, I kid you not, I started hitting his back. After six blows, I stopped delivering my blows.

Oh my god. I was just hitting someone!

"Where are you taking me?" I asked him slowly and I heard the tint of fear lacing through my words. The air around me thickened and I was consumed with a terrifying feeling. It rendered me speechless. I felt my Levi's ride low and my hand shot back, in hopes of holding it up.

"Taking you home." The boy replied casually, as if it was alongside eating breakfast kinda normal to hurdle me over his shoulder and take me home.

This tattooed boy had me over his shoulder and he was taking me home. Many things were wrong with that, many many unnamed things. Firstly, this boy was lean but he surely had a few muscles packed in order to carry me so effortlessly. Secondly, he was taking me home... does he even know where I live? And thirdly...

Why?

Why was he taking me home? Did I ask him? Heck, I didn't even know him?

"You know... you're really weird."

The tattooed boy scoffed at my comment. "Honey, if we're talking weird, it's you. I'm not from the same place as you. That does not make me weird."

I hadn't sneaked far away from home so within a matter of minutes, the boy was walking on my street. My hands started to tremble and my mind was going berserk with unanswered questions. I was far too consumed in my thoughts I didn't realise the tattooed boy was on the steps leading to my front door.

My eyes widened to their max and I started to struggle. The tattooed boy was taken aback for a second but his hand tightened around the back of my tights, holding me in place.

"Stop that."

"No no no! You don't understand. You have to put me down." We were an inch away from the front door now and I hoped he wouldn't ring the bell just yet.

"Put me down!" I screeched in a whisper, struggling further. If he rang the bell and my Dad opened the door... I was done for.

The tattooed boy ignored me and rang the bell.

I say you pinch this boy's ass and make a run for it. Trouble Ellie voiced

No, stay and tell your dad the truth. Good Ellie called out.

"Dear flowers!" A woman's voice gasped out and before my mind could pinpoint to which maid it belonged to, the tattooed boy dropped me off his shoulder and placed me on my feet. I straightened my jacket, pulled up my favourite washed-out Levi's and pivoted around.

I felt my heart calm down instantly as soon as my eyes landed on Maila, our housekeeper. She was looking at the tattooed boy with a knowing yet guarded eyes. With hands on my hips, I flicked around to him, a scowl already on my face.

"You have absolutely no business with me, ever. So get lost and just-" He arched one perfect eyebrow, lifting his hand to scratch the end of his jaw. I saw a few more tattoos in his inner wrist and my eyes caught a delicate designs. They were truly beautiful but I didn't tell him that.

"Don't be out late again." The tattooed said in a low voice, his eyes scanning Maila for a second before they landed on me again. His blue eyes shown under the front door light and I was momentarily struck for words.

"Or what?" I rudely countered, hands till on hips.

He titled his head to the side, the ends of his lips twitching.

"Easy bait." He just said.

I felt the my last hold on my control slowly slip out of my hand. I exhaled deeply, throwing my head up, exasperated. I heard Maila whisper "dear flowers!" under her breathe and when I looked back at the tattooed boy he was gone. Poof! Disappeared without a sound.

I looked back at Maila. "Did you see him leave?" Please say you did.

Maila turned her soft eyes on my face. She was a very short lady, with red hair curled on her head and warm green eyes. "No, sunshine, I had my eyes closed."

I glanced at the empty space, where not long ago stood the tattooed boy. The street that led to my house was clear of everything with just a few cars parked in front their houses. It was impossible for him to go unseen... yet he was nowhere to be seen.

"I knew that boy was trouble!" Maila muttered, throwing her hands up when I snapped my head back at her.

I blinked a few times. "You know him?"

"Who doesn't?"

I dropped my mouth, so far down I feared my jaw would leave it's hinges. Maila shot her hand out and pulled me into the house by my upper arm.

"Sunshine, get to your room quick before your father comes down and sees you. Or the other maids." Maila said in a hushed tone, her green eyes tingling. I wanted to ask her more about this tattooed boy that everyone supposedly knew about.

"Hurry!" Maila pushed me towards the stairs and I knew I couldn't risk getting caught out of bed at this time. Never mind being fully dressed.

Without looking back over my shoulder, I took the stairs two at a time and ran towards my bedroom.

Before I fell asleep. I felt it. His hand on my mouth... the feeling still lingered.