He looked up and walked over, reaching up. "This one?" he asked, grabbing the garlic powder. He made sure to keep his hips turned so that the gun wasn't in her reach.
He looked up and walked over, reaching up. "This one?" he asked, grabbing the garlic powder. He made sure to keep his hips turned so that the gun wasn't in her reach.
She nodded her head slowly and gently took it from his hand. She then wondered what would happen if she tried to play girlfriend right now. Were his blushes real or an act? She set it down and smiled before turning to face him and fluttered her eyes. "Wasn't it a bit fun to be girlfriend and boyfriend?" She asked him slowly and went to rub his chest. "We might as well become friends if you aren't gonna let me go."
His eyes widened a little when she touched him and he instinctively took a small step back. For a moment he felt a sense of longing, a part of him wondering if that could ever be, and he raised his hand to take hers. Then he checked himself and dropped his hand back down. This wasn't a romance novel, just like he had told her. The cold reality was that she was his hostage, and he had killed two people in the past few days. He was a criminal, and a bad one at that, and he had lost the only person he had cared about because of it.
"We're not friends," he said shortly, turning away. "I bet it was fun for you. It sure seemed that way. But we're not out there anymore."
She frowned and looked at him. Her feelings were hurting now. She looked at him and then sighed. "Okay..." She said and then started to cry softly as she cooked. She then began to get the noodles done. She then began to get out the parmasan. She then started to wipe her eyes. "I hate you so much." She said and then began to cry harder. "I just want to be loved...."
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a sigh. His walls were up now, and he was closed off. "You can hate me all you want. That's the way it's supposed to be."
She frowned and looked back at him before she continued to cook. Once it was done she went to the couch and sat down with hers before picking up a picture frame. It had a picture of her and her daughter in it right before she gave her up for adoption. It was the only one she had. After a few minutes of eating she heard a knock at the door and frowned when she heard.
"Bayleigh, its Reggie. I got your address from one of your friends. Oepn the door!" He said and then started to click his tounge. "I don't know if you remember me or not."
Bayleigh looked at the door and stood up. "Reggie......" She whispered and looked at Jim. "Please let me let him in. I promise I won't blow our cover." She whispered to Jim. The truth was that this was her childs baby daddy and she always fantasized about him showing up on her doorstep.
Jim was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his plate in his hand, and kept his eyes locked on the door. Every fiber in his body wanted to say no, but he knew that might not be the smartest move. The lights were on in her house, so whoever this Reggie was could tell she was home. If she didn't answer the door, he might get worried or suspicious.
"...Fine," he murmured, but then tapped the gun in his waistband. "If you break your promise, or he does, he's dead. Got that?"
Bayleigh nodded her head and smiled before going to the door. She opened it and smiled. "Hi Reggie. Come in." She said happily and then led him in. "Reggie, this is my friend Marc." She said and then closed the door behind them. "What brings you here?" She asked him softly.
Reggie smiled and came in. "I mean we haven't seen you in forever. How are things." He said and walked over to the couch to sit before seeing the picture. "Wow, can I take this out to look?" He asked her softly. Once he got his approval he took it out and looked at it. "Wow, she's like seven now?" He asked her softly.
Bayleigh nodded her head and then frowned. "Why are you here?" She asked, knowing he needed something.
Reggie smiled and looked at the photo in his hand. "I want a relationship with my daughter. Is she at school still?"
Bayleigh shook her head. "No, I gave her up for adoption after she was born. It was after you broke up with me." She said to him slowly. "Thats the only photo I have of her."
To that he frowned. "You bitch! You gave our daughter up! Why!?" He asked her angrily, standing up, photo still in hand.
Bayleigh frowned also and took a step to him. "Oh I don't know! Maybe after you dumped me while I was in labor and told me to figure it out on my own! I only wanted her because you promised to help me raise her!"
Reggie frowned a little. "You selfish bitch. You gave her away! I have nothing to remember her by and neither should you!" He snapped and then tore the picture in half then tore it again and again.
Bayleigh looked in horror as tears came to her eyes. "NO! Reggie! Please stop!" She said and started to cry, reaching out for it. "Thats all I had to remember her!" She cried and then looked down as the little crumbles fell to the floor. She then frowned again as she was cussed up and called every name in the book. Though what hurt most of all was when he shoved her to the ground and left her sitting in the scraps.
(Hopefully it wasn't too random. I thought all day on it.)
Jim had forgotten all about his food since Reggie started yelling. As the scene unfolded, he had slowly and quietly put his plate down on a side table and rested his hand on the gun. Some part of him just knew, without logic or reason, that he would shoot this man if he gave him a good enough reason to. He watched him rip the photo and clenched his teeth together, debating himself on whether or not he should step in. It wasn't his business, so he knew he shouldn't, but this Reggie was making it damn hard.
When Reggie shoved Bayleigh, Jim had seen enough. He stepped in front of Reggie, looking him up and down. "I suggest you leave, big guy. Hope you're proud of yourself."
Reggie frowned and looked at him before walking out the door. "Good luck with her." He said and slammed the door shut.
Bayleigh looked at the ground, at the pieces of the picture in the floor. She sniffled and started to pick up the pieces before setting them down on the coffee table before continuing to cry, burying her face into her hands.
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