The Bad Boy's Queen

It was an internal battle now

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*Kaitlyn’s pov*

To say I was shattered, would be an understatement. I mean, obviously, how would you feel if you discovered that the guy you fell in love with, lost your V card to, shared your first kiss with, hell, ran away from home with him, was a part of the mafia. Adding to my misery was the fact that he knew, he knew who I was and he knew that I didn’t know who he was, yet he played with me like another one of his toys. Was nothing real? Did he not feel anything? Was I just another one of his conquests?

Tears streamed down my face as I sat in the car, my head firmly rested against the glass window. We had been in car for God knows how long now, because I certainly couldn’t make out any sense of time since I left HIM. Andrew casually sneaked glances at me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care that I was still in Grayson’s shirt. It smelled of him, and that alone brought back memories of our intimate moments. All along I thought that I made him a better person, I thought I meant something to him, I thought he loved me…

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself and continued tapping his fingers on the wheel. I snapped at him, “go ahead, scold me, insult me, embarrass me for being a fool to believe that he was in love with me,” he stayed silent, “GO AHEAD ANDREW!” I yelled and fresh tears warmed my cheeks.

“Hey Kate, I’m in no position to scold you, or insult you. I’m really sorry all of this happened and we let it happen, it’s all our fault. You were innocent and he took advantage of that. What a fucking asshole,” he spat out.

My fingers tangled on my thighs as I struggled to not break down further in front of Andrew, “why me? Andrew, why me?” I held my head in my hands as I leaned down sulking further. He was quiet, nothing came out of his mouth. His silence was disturbing, so I looked to my side with teary eyes, my vision kind of blurry, “why me, Andrew?” I pressed further.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it tight. He was hiding something from me, not him, not him too. “What the fuck is up with you all hiding stuff from me. For fuck’s sake, I’m not a five-year kid anymore!” I yelled, my inner goddess despite of the pile of tissues beside her, shook her head, expressing her disapproval at my foul language.
Andrew’s eyes grew wide in surprise, further adding to my misery of using such language. This isn’t me. This couldn’t be me. “I’m sorry for the language,” I muttered a quick apology, sinking my head down again, allowing myself to cry.  
“You have a right to be mad at everything, I understand,” Andrew murmured.

“Then tell me, is there another part of the story that I am not aware of?” my voice was not supporting me, I wanted to sound strong, dominating, and here I was, a sulky little, weak girl. “I don’t think me telling you will be such a good idea, your dad will tell you all about it when we get home,” he explained, “everyone is really worried about you,” he added.

As we entered through the main gate of the house, I realized that if I had just once, not done what everyone warned me about, I would have not ended up falling in love with him. We got out of the car and I pulled the singular piece of fabric, that was his shirt down. Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over me as my feet refused to cooperate with me. Andrew walked over to where I was standing and understood what I was feeling, he took off his jacket and draped it at my shoulders, “come on, I got you,” a sympathetic smile met my eyes.