***

"What's your favorite color?"

I looked up with an amused smile to an awkward looking Damien, who was sitting at his desk with a notepad in front of him.

"Really, that's the question you ask? We're supposed to get deep and personal Damien." I watched his pupils dilate just a bit when I spoke his name, sending hoards of butterflies into my stomach.

"Fine, why're your eyes different from that night?" I stiffened gently, my fingers clenching as I averted my gaze.

"What're you talking about? My eyes are the same." He shook his head, giving me a stern gaze.

"I know they're not. They're plain brown right now, but a week ago only one eye was brown." I bit my lip as I fiddled with a pen, not daring to look into his eyes. I knew as soon as I did, I wouldn't be able to lie.

"I don't like my eyes. I use to get made fun of in school for them; I'd get called a witch or a demon or something insanely stupid." That technically wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the entire truth.

My dear old father never settled his debt with the gang, so they unfortunately were looking for me. I've been wearing brown contacts since then, and dyed my hair a lighter brown than my normal shade. My eyes were always a dead giveaway, and contacts pissed me off since I only wore one to cover the green blue, so as soon as I'd get home I'd rip it out.

"I think they're beautiful." I looked up warily, his gaze hot on me. My skin flushed as I took in a breath, turning back to my notepad.

"Why do you ask like such an ass at school?" I saw him tense up out of the corner of my eye, his jaw clenching.

Probably shouldn't have called him an ass.

"None of your fucking business, thank you for insulting me though." I rolled my eyes, writing down 'ass' underneath his name.

"Fine, then tell me your favorite food."

The rest of our night went like that, a few deep questions thrown in here and there. I found out he loved dark blue, hated sushi and loved sandwiches, and was afraid of clowns. Who would've known the 6'4 Italian badass was scared of clowns?

He learned that I loved sushi but wasn't a big fan of pizza; (which earned me a scolding from him.) loved maroon and wasn't a big fan of clowns either. Too much makeup honestly and kinda reminded me of Courtney.

Cue shiver.

"Do you play video games?" I shrugged, my eyes skimming over the words I had written down about him over the past hour or so. I'd watch the way his body moved, how he tried not to put to much pressure on his left leg and how he didn't flinch as slamming doors. I knew his group of friends were down in the living room below us by their constant shouts and loud TV.

"I'm game to play, I just haven't played in about five years." Dad loved video games, when he wasn't hacking something on his computer he was almost always playing World of Warcraft, which became a game we would stay up till four am playing. Probably not the best game for a 13 year old to play, but oh well.

He stood up and motioned for me to follow him, the cold air assaulting me as soon as I stepped out of his warm room. I ran my hands through my dark hair, more than likely making it look more wild than it usually did. My eyes trained on his back as Damien walked, his shirt tight against his muscles.

I mentally stabbed myself a million times. He didn't like me, and I couldn't even afford to like him. If I caught feelings for Damien Asher, I was dead along with him; gang or no gang.

We walked into the living room; well, more like Damien walked in and I stood in the doorway watching, as the screaming continued. They were playing Zombies on a huge flat screen, stacks and stacks of movies and other games underneath it. I grinned as I saw whatever cold walls Damien had crumble as he sat with his friends, making jokes and shoving their shoulders.

He sat with Joey and two other boys, Jake Bonnet and Charles Willow, two boys in what I assumed was his gang. One was undoubtedly his third in command while the other was either his fourth in command or just a good fighter.

Damien eventually joined in on playing the video games as I took out my phone and took as many discreet photos as I could. He wasn't so bad once he got out of his cold fortress he liked to lock himself in, but I knew better.

Then again, he'd flex the muscles in his back unconsciously and my horny fan girl side came back out screaming and kicking.

I stood there watching for the longest time when something shattered the glass windows next to me, hitting Damien's shoulder. Gunshots were heard as I dropped to the ground, cursing gangs and everything under the sun. I didn't have my gun with me, deciding that after the little incident a while back I had been carrying to many weapons.

"Fern get down!" Joey pulled out a gun as he ran from the room with Jake and Charles crouching below the broken windows.

"Idiots." I muttered for what had to be the hundredth time. I made my way to a bleeding Damien, his breathing labored as I looked where he had gotten shot.

A deep red stain started to expand on his shoulder, his eyes locking on mine as I crouched over him. "You fucking did this, you were lying and led them to us."

I rolled my eyes, using my palm to press on his would. "Shut up dumbass."

I ripped his shirt from the small bullet hole in the fabric, taking it off his body before ripping it again. I made a type of bandage while bullets continued flying around us, my ears listening while I worked.

They eventually died down as I dragged Damien to what I assumed was the kitchen, lifting him up on the table. Joey ran in and took one look at Damien before he began shouting, pushing me out of the way. I hit the wall with a groan as the back of my head by a picture frame, my eyes squeezing shut.

"Fuck." I looked up to see Joey trying to get the bullet out of Damien's shoulder, his hands shaking as he messily dug a pair of tweezers in his wound. I saw Damien try not to scream but he would let out grunts of pain every so often.

I rolled my eyes as I took a step forward, faltering as my head spun. "You're fucking kidding me."

I pushed Joey out of the way, taking the tweezers from his hand. "Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"Shut up, your adrenalines too much and it's causing your hands to shake." I leaned forward and dipped the tweezers in, gently moving around as Jake wiped the blood away.

I felt the tips of the tweezers hit something solid, my eyes looking up to meet Damien's shut eyes. "Someone slap him to wake him up, he can't sleep just yet." I grumbled, opening the tweezers before gripping the bullet. I pulled it out quickly, throwing it into a bowl set to the side before packing the wound with gauze. I stitched the wound quickly, looking back up to find everyone staring at me.

My world spun when Damien opened his eyes, my hand reaching up to touch the source of pain at the back of my head. I pulled it away when I felt something wet and sticky, my hand coated in dark red blood.

I looked back to the guys staring at me as my world rolled and tilted to the side, my legs collapsing under me. I muttered right before gravity took its toll, my eyes rolling shut.

"Fuck."

-

I woke up in Damien's bed, a handcuff wrapped around one wrist attached to the bedpost.

What the actual fuck?

I pushed myself up against the headboard, wincing at the pounding in my head. I used my free hand to touch the back of my head, my fingers rolling along stitches in my skin. I double checked my skin to make sure none of my tattoos, nor scars showed.

The tattoos didn't cover them as well as I had hoped when I got them, but they covered them enough for me to not break down when I took a shower.

The door to the room opened, revealing Joey, who looked sad? And Damien, who had his arm in a sling.

"This is a nice thanks and everything, but I really think I should be getting home, don't you think?" Joey looked at me with pity for a bit when the door opened again, Jake and Charles walking in.

James gave me a small smile while Charles sneered at me, his eyes lit with anger. Okay, I was seriously confused. Why the fuck was he mad at me? I saved his dumbass leaders life, this is a nice 'how do ya do'.

"You won't be leaving." Damien spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. Guess we're back to square one. "You lied, you work for the gang who attacked us today, but my question is, why did you help me?"

I looked at him like he was insane, my fists clenching. That's why Charles was mad, why the hell wasn't Joey or Jake? "You seriously stupid, I have no idea what fucking gang attacked you, I'm not working with them for the last fucking time!"

He stared at me about longer, the air uncomfortable between us before nodding curtly. Jake stepped forward and unlocked my wrist, my hand wrapping around it to rub away some of the stiffness.

"How the hell did you know how to take a bullet out, all with a concussion?" I gave Joey a pointed look, my eyes glaring holes into his head.

"Considering Joeys the one that gave me he concussion, I feel like I should get an apology, just saying. I don't know how I did it okay? Adrenaline? Too much caffeine in my coffee? All I know is, your welcome." I mock bowed at him, making his jaw clench.

"So you're not going to tell me about how you could remove a bullet easily?" I shook my head, leaning back against the headboard.

"Now if you'll let me leav-"

"You're staying." I snapped to Charles harsh tone, my eyebrows furrowing.

"The fuck I am!" I began to swing my feet off the bed when Joey push me back down, his face full of apologies he would never say.

"You're staying, until we can be sure you're not connected with any gangs besides ours." Damien spoke, his body still in his desk chair.

His dimples, strong jaw, lips lips lip — Fern not now!

"I'm not connected with your gang to begin with, and you can't kidnap me!" He rolled his eyes, leaning forward in his chair as Jake, Charles and Joey began to file out.

"You're connected with us now, and technically, you kidnapped me first." He stood and walked out of the room, shutting the door with a click from the lock behind him.

You're seriously fucking with me.