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Mine, all mine.
I wake up the next morning, a cold chill in the air. My body is shivering and I turn around to bury myself back under the duvet but I hit something or someone. I slowly turn and close my eyes, wishing it isn't who I think it is. . . Jake.
Jake Melvin is in my bed.
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His Mission Bumping into old faces.
The door swings open and Jake emerges, his eyes lighting up with amusement at the sight of me. The corner of his lips twitch upwards as he leans against the doorway —"Muffin, get dressed.""Nope, I'm quite happy where I am." I smile, sinking further into my bed sheets. I'm dressed in one of Jake's white tee shirts with my grey jogging bottoms underneath. A jar of Nutella is
His Mission "You do?"
My phone rings and the screen flashes with Mum's contact. I instantly feel sick as I replay the way Jake slammed Trevor's face into the floor. The crack and echo of the impact plays on a loop in my head. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, wondering whether Trevor is still alive. He certainly didn't look it when I last saw him.I decline the call and a text message pops up seconds later. I grit my teeth together and turn my phone off, tossing it onto the bed. I really didnotwant to deal with that right now. Part of me is terrified f
His Mission Anger fuelled confessions.
It's been several weeks since Jake and I admitted our true feelings to one another. The more time I spend with Jake, the deeper I fall for him. The hype over our newunexpectedrelationship is beginning to die down in college. The envious stares are becoming less frequent and the loud obnoxious conversations are now hushed whispers.Ivory is practically a best friend to me and has joined Trish and I's permanent friendship circle.
His Mission Can't go back.
"We think you should go back to live with your mother. You're not eighteen yet and we don't think this is the best environment for a teenager."I stare at her dumbfounded, my mouth hung open unattractively. For so long I always questioned whether the police would really help me or not and today I found out the answer. . . They wouldn't."Trevor beats her and you want her to go back to that hell hole?" Jake says, breaking the si
His Mission Little girl.
Tobias and I sit together silently for a few hours, binge watching a series on TV about a murder house. Occasionally one of us will make a slight comment when things get a little gruesome or exciting. There's a bowl of popcorn nestled between us on the couch and the sun is beginning to rise outside causing it to create a soft glow inside the room.It's early hours in the morning and the birds begin to sing their song. I yawn and stretch my arms over my head, shifting in position to get comfortable.
His Mission Mistake No.2
4pm. The Arm's Pub. Leave Jake at home or else I won't tell you anything.I read the text repeatedly, my eyes straining from not blinking. The words begin to blur on the screen and I sigh, leaning back against the wall. The time reads 3:58 and I'm stood outside The Arm's Pub,alreadyregretting my decision.
His Mission Howling Caveman.
Jake's POV -Harder, Faster, Stronger.My fist collides with the bag once again, the fo
His Mission Prisoner.
My eyes flutter open and I groan, a wave of pain shooting down my body. The pounding in my head begins to intensify and I groan again, louder this time. Everything begins to rush back to me, the memory hitting me worse than the ache I'm feeling.DC Jones, the pub, the drink. . .I'm fully awake now, my eyes wide with fear. I look down and realise my hands are tied with a thick rope, double knotted.
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