Part one

Malia stayed pressed against his chest, her eyes basically frozen open in fear. All she could feel was something cold pressed against her head. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Less than a week ago she was sitting home with her dog. Now, she's standing here with a gun barrel pressed to her head.

In front of her stood the person who got her into this mess. She was the reason why she had a fucked up ankle. She was the reason why this beautiful dress was fucked up. She was the reason why she felt this way and all that little shit had to say was

"Did you miss me?"