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Chapter Seven|| Bamboozled Again
"Hey there, little. . ."
The man trailed off as I was throwing away the trash.
I had thrown all discretion out the window. I hadn't bothered to put on my Hannah Montana wig on, I had taken off the tape from my breast, and since Nick was out, I'd been positive that no one was going to see me.
Bamboozled again.
"Girl," I finished for the man.
He raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off. "I'm looking for Sam, I don't know if you've seen his around."
I crossed my arms. "Who's asking?"
He sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Coen. My name is Coen."
"I don't know, that sounds like a fake name to me," I muttered jokingly.
Coen growled and pulled a gun to my forehead. "I have no patience, little girl. Do you know where he is or not?"
My blood ran cold and I tried as hard as I could to keep my cool. "You're going to shoot me? In a public space? Where anybody could just drive by and see you shoot me?" I asked and thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't stuttered.
He huffed and put his gun away, his eyes scanning the place to see if anyone had just witnessed the event.
"Nice move, Coen."
"I will not hesitate to fucking rip your vocal cords out, don't try me," he said venomously.
Why the fuck was Sam involved with these kind of people?
"If you say so," I added.
"Do you know where Sam is or not?" he hissed.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Even if I did know where he was, why would I tell you?"
He sighed again, closed his eyes, and started counting. "1, 2, 3, 4. . ."
Once he hit 10, he looked at me pointedly. "Because if you don't, I'll kill you."
"Okay," I said.
Coen furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me in disbelief. "What?" he inquired.
"Kill me," I encouraged. Of course, I was just bluffing, I didn't really think this man was going to shoot me.
"Shit, don't have to ask me twi-"
"Coen," Sam said through gritted teeth, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Oh, thank God. Oh, my fuck. He was actually going to do it.
Coen looked at Sam with a smirk. "Talking to this little girl/boy. Seriously, are you really a girl?"
I huffed. "Just because I have short hair doesn't mean I'm a boy." Fucking asshat.
"Please don't talk to him, Sawyer," Sam said and then directed his glare towards Coen.
"See! You even have a boy name!" Coen exclaimed.
"It's unisex, motherfucker," I growled.
"You're a boy!" He yelled back.
"Bet," I said.
"I'm no betting on something I k-"
He was abruptly cut off by me reaching for the hem of my shirt and lifting it up.
"I win," I smiled.
Sam looked at me with wide eyes and he lunged at me. He quickly pulled my shirt down and glared at me.
"I think it's time for us to leave, Coen."
Coen looked at Sam knowingly and smirked, as if he'd just found out something important and nodded. "Sure. Nice meeting you and your girls, Sawy-"
"Coen," Sam muttered threateningly.
Coen smirked and he gave me a small card with his name on it. "Call me if you need anything, kid, you've got potential."
Sam glared at Coen's retrieving figure and snatched the card away from me. "If you ever see that man again, run the other direction."
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I sat comfortably on the sofa in the public library and opened Sam's Diary or whatever.
I had come here because my brother's idiot friends had come over and I couldn't even think with all the noise they were making.
"Idiots," I muttered and switched the page.
My mom has gotten much better but I'm still working with Coen. I don't think I have a chance on escaping anytime soon.
Wait, up, the weird boy next door just literally took off a wig. What the fuck.
The entry stopped there. Actually, the whole thing stopped right there.
There were no more entries because I had taken the damn journal.
There was nothing to blackmail him with.
Ugh, why does life treat me like thi-
"Hey, can you move, this sofa is only reserved for- I know you."
I looked up and caught sight of a boy. He was quite handsome. Lean figure, brown eyes, black hair and sun kissed skin.
It was okay to check him out because I was dressed as a girl at the moment.
"What, no you haven't," I quickly said as I shut the book.
He looked at me closely and snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Are you related to Sawyer Collins?"
All blood left my face and I could feel my hands starting to sweat. "No, I've never heard that name in my life."
"Really? I could've sworn you were. You two look exactly the same," he said.
"Look-" I scanned his shirt and found a name tag. He was wearing a McDonald's uniform and had a small book in his hand, - "Isaiah, I don't know who you're talking about or who you are but you seem nice and I don't appreciate you flirting with me."
I was trying so hard to drive him away so he could forget this whole scenario.
"Flirting? Oh, no, I have a gir-"
"Yeah, I'm sure she wouldn't be too happy about you flirting with me."
"What the fuck are you talking about? I only came to shoo you from this seat because the librarian told me to-"
"Yeah, bye to you too, Isaiah," I said and I started to walk away. I felt kind of bad, now he probably thought I was a grade A bitch,
Well, he can suck himself off.
I excited the library and was a few moments from getting on my bike- what? You think we all have cars? I'm lucky I even have a bike- and the it happened.
A familiar car stopped right in front of me and lowered down its windows.
Sam looked at me and then at my bike with a disgusted face. "Get in, we need to talk," he said in a low voice.
"Suck my dick, Sam. I'm not leaving my bike alone."
Sam sighed and opened the truck then proceeded by getting out of his car and tossing my bike in the trunk.
"We really need to talk," he stressed.
"Fine, just chill the fuck out."
Author's Note
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