Jail Bird. by Em. Z. (good book recommendations .TXT) 📖

little off about him. Maybe he looked a little familiar. I shrugged it off, pawning the feeling off as being paranoid.

"Gate Forty Three, ready to board, repeat, Gate Forty Three, ready to board." The smooth voice called over the intercom, making me stand immediately.

My heart was pounding, as I rushed to the gate agent, pushing past people to get a good spot in line. I watched as she slowly scanned every ticket, sending each person through with award winning reluctance. I swear, I would punch her.

When we finally got up there, I was behind a family, arguing with her about the seating arangements. I looked at the ceiling, letting out a loud sigh as they complained to the gate agent about every single little problem.

"I'm sorry, the ticket says what the ticket says." The gate agent said.

"I am not sitting next to him!" The woman pointed to a man, who was grinning.

Getting fed up, I tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Okay, lady, there are other people in the world besides yourself. I had to endure a five hour car ride with a family who hates me, I'm sure if I didn't go insane, then you can stand four to five hours of him! Now if you just can't accept that, then give your goddamn ticket to someone else, because you are wasting time arguing with the one person who can't help the situation!" I yelled.

The woman put her hand to her heart, and the gate agent covered her smile with her mouth. She huffed and stormed past the gate agent, who gave me the most grateful smile anyone has ever seen. She scanned my ticket, and sent me through, her big smile never leaving her face. "Have a nice flight!" She called.

***

I had the worst flight ever.

Guess who I got to sit by on the plane? Ms. The World Revolves Around Me! I swear, she made subtle remarks about me all through the plane ride. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back and counting backwards from one thousand, praying that when I was done, we would be landing. 

Near the nine hundred and fifteen mark, I got the feeling of being watched, but I tried to ignore it. It was probably just Crazy Lady over there judging me. This didn't feel like a judging gaze, as weird as that sounded, it felt...intense. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around, only to settle my eyes on Sunglasses Dude again, who had his head leaned back, and looked to be sleeping.

I shook my head slowly, shrugging the feeling off again. I was probably just paranoid. 

The rest of the flight was uneasy. Crazy Lady and the man she hated had fallen asleep, but I just felt...weird. I didn't understand the feeling, so I just ignored it. By the time we landed, I was tired, my ass was numb, and I didn't even care about who might have been following me, I just wanted off this plane.

I grabbed my backpack, stumbling through the line and mumbling something close to a "thanks" to the pilot, who bid us good evening on our way out. 

I caught a glimpse of Sunglasses Dude in the crowd of people exiting the plane, and I could swear he was watching me, but I shrugged it off, I was just looking for someone to pin this weird feeling on. When I looked back where he was standing, he was gone.

I grabbed a cab, throwing two twenties at him. "Take me to the old Bronchi's place." I said.

He looked at me with a weird look, but complied. 

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

Well here we go.

The Promise.

I was running down the sidewalk of an unknown street, my breathing ragged as I clutched my backpack in my hand. The stupid short dress I was forced to wear was tattered, and the makeup What's-Her-Face put on me was smeared with tears. The gun in my hands shook, as I stopped to lean against a tree. I was in a park somewhere, although I was completely lost. I knew he had a tracking device on me, and I took comfort in that. He would be able to find me, even if I was in the middle of a park, with no idea where I was. I listened for something, anything. The sound of anyone approaching, but I heard nothing.

The sun was setting, making it darker, and the trees casting shadow were of no help. I didn't know where I was, and I couldn't see a street sign anywhere.

I was so busy that I almost didn't hear the sound of a branch breaking a few feet off from where I stood. Almost. My breathing hitched...could it be him?

Okay, so you're probably confused. Allow me to recap.

***

An hour before.

I gave the Taxi an extra tip, and got out of the car, pulling my backpack with me. I stood in front of the abandoned building, hanging out over the ocean, and gulped. I wanted nothing more than to die right here on the spot, but that wouldn't help. I took a deep breath, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and forcing myself to relax. I wasn't going to be scared of him. I was going to be...myself. Rebellious, cocky, stupid, but most of all...fearless.

I tried the old glass doors, which were clouded with dirty paw prints of stray dogs and rust, and found that the left one was unlocked. I set my backpack aside before  I pushed it open, going through the waiting area, and into the broken down dining area. A few wooden tables were left, and they were now old and warped from rain that had dripped through the ceiling.The place was dark, the rotted wood floors looking a bit dangerous to step on, and the ceiling looking like it would cave in any second. In the middle of the room, sat Dad, hunched over, his head hanging low, tied to a chair.

I gasped and rushed to his side, lifting his face to examine the damage. I grimaced. "You look like you just got hit with a sledge hammer."

He gave me a wry look, but was unable to answer. He glanced behind me, and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath, as his pupils dilated. "Dad?" I asked in confusion.

I stood and turned around, only to freeze as I saw what he was looking at. Ike stood against the wall, watching me with a dark, evil gaze. I forced my muscles to relax. "I'm here, so let him go." I said in a hard voice.

"Not yet. I want him to see this." A sly grin pulled at the corners of his lips.

"See what?" I spat, my stomach churning as a chill crept down my spine.

"I'll tell you in a second, first, I need you to change." He said.

"Change? For what purpose?"

"Just. Do. It." He growled, his temper rising.

I refused to be afraid. "Fine. What am I changing into?" I spat.

His mood switched on a dime, and he grinned. "Rosella!"

A short, slender girl with cropped blond hair and brown eyes came into the room. Her arms were covered in tattoos, and she was wearing the sluttiest outfit I've ever seen. Seriously? What are you, the girl from Saxobeat?

For being so short, and petite looking, she had a strong grip. She tugged my arm, pulling me roughly to the old, beat up bathroom. They'd set up a mirror, and a stool by the old, dirty, rusted sinks. The girl threw a dress at me that looked like it would barely cover my ass, and I raised my eyebrows at her.

"I don't make the rules, Hon." She shrugged, looking at me through thick black eyeliner.

Huh. She was from New Jersey. "Black Crow." I muttered.

That was my own code word for Slut Bag. "Huh?" She asked, smacking on a piece of gum.

"Nothing." I said louder.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under her gaze as I changed, I pulled down my pants, and as I grabbed the backs, I felt a lump in my back pocket. Pausing for only a split second, I descreetly pulled it out, slipping on the dress and pretending to pull up the chest, but catching a glance at the tracking device that Victor had planted on me. That's what he slipped into my pocket. He really did know me. I carefully slipped the device into my bra, hoping he would find me, and find me soon. 

As soon as I was done changing, she forced me to sit on the stool, and started doing my makeup. I resisted groaning. I was going to look just like her.

I'm just going to skip over the details and just say that I feel like a Geisha. It wasn't as bad as hers, but it was still pretty bad. The eyeliner was thick, and the lip stick was bright red. Seriously?

Ugh.

She shoved me into the open, where Dad assessed my slutish outfit with rage in his eyes. I crossed my arms over my low cut chest, feeling very uncomfortable under his gaze. Ike walked up to me, and I stood my ground, my back straight as a pin as he assessed me, watching him with cold eyes.

"Beautiful. Just like the day we met." He said.

I narrowed my eyes at him, jerking my arm away as he touched it. His eyes darkened, and he reached up, grabbing the back of my head and curling his hand into a fist, gripping my hair tightly. I cried out as he jerked my head back, my knees buckling. He leaned down in front of me, his rage-filled eyes holding mine. "You never, ever refuse me!" He snarled.

I showed my first sign of fear, whimpering like I child. "Shut up!" He boomed in my face, making me flinch and force myself to quiet down.

He forced me to stand, releasing my hair and pushing me forcefully against the wall, making dust fall around us. "You are mine!"

And then his lips forced themselves onto mine, as I struggled beneath him. I kicked, and pushed my fists against his chest, tears starting to form in my eyes. I felt so hopeless. So helpless!

On instinct, I bit down hard on his bottom lip, making him grunt and push away from me. I knew almost immediately that this was a mistake, as his eyes filled with rage. His hand raised, and in a flash, my head was knocked against the wall. I only heard my ears ringing at first, and then my left cheek stung terribly.

He leaned down, his rough breath hitting my ear. "I think I need to teach you a lesson, Baby. Who should I kill first, your mother? How about your brother?" he growled in my ear.

Okay, that was crossing the line.

The thought of him laying one finger on any one of my family members brought white hot rage flooding inside me. It made me braver. I gripped his hair in my fist, roughly pulling him back to look at me, my face suddenly deadly calm as I smiled seductively at him.

"You know, Ike, I've changed my mind. I was thinking about it, and you aren't such a bad guy." He seemed surprised, as I let go of his hair to put my