Loving Jason

Chapter eleven

JASON

Three days passed since that day at the beach. While trying to forget those memories that wasn't even supposed to be remembered, I acted on impulse - as I always did - and did some pretty fucked up things.

All because of Daisy.

I honestly couldn't get her out of my head. Her chestnut colored hair, her softly glowing hazel eyes, and her smile that was always gentle and so light it could brighten up the whole dorm room. Something about her made me feel so protective, like I couldn't let anyone bring any harm to her. Maybe I was insane. I barely knew her at all and yet I was still thinking about her far too much.

She has been making things so much more complicated without even knowing it herself. Just by being in her presence I felt like I had to be on my best behavior and act sweet all the time. I would try to be nice to people occasionally, but generally I wasn't a nice person. When I grew up my father taught me to be tough and hard, not soft and gentle. The way I treated people could only be blamed on the way I grew up. No matter how hard I tried to be nice towards people, towards Daisy, I just couldn't help to be the opposite instead. It was a force of habit to be guarded and suspicious of everyone around me.

Now, in front of me lied one of my most trusted drug dealers that decided to use the supply of drugs that he was supposed to sell for me, losing me thousands of dollars in the process and making loyal customers angry. Making me livid. I absolutely hated when they didn't follow their orders and do what they were supposed to, to get the job done.

I chuckled at his form lying on the ground. Like any other sane human being, I felt remorse, guilt, regret and sympathy. I, however, rarely ever felt those emotions because I was surrounded by stupid fucks that didnt deserve any pity.

"So, tell me," I began and shoved him with my foot. His dirty body rolled over, his face now facing me. His eyes held so much pain and fear, I almost wanted to slap him hard upside the head. You're supposed to be a fucking man. We don't show pain.

"Where's are my drugs? I gave them to you one month ago and you are three days pass your deadline." I reminded him

"I lost them." He coughed loudly, spitting out a blob of blood on the floor.

"Gross." I muttered in disgust.

I rolled my eyes and glanced at my wrist watch. 11:48. I didn't have time for him. Growing angrier, I gave him one hard kick to the stomach. Blood gurgled out of his disgusting mouth and tears sprung to his eyes. I hated criers. I hated the fact that grown men would cry. Couldn't they handle a little pain? I remembered being stabbed once when I was sixteen, but I didn't shed a single tear.

"Where. Is. It?" I growled, crouching down to his level.

"I- I told you. I l-lost it." He said breathlessly.

Chuckling, I smacked his bruised face. "Jonathan, Jonathan, John. I can call you John can I?" I smirked raising a brow. Sometimes these encounters of mine were so much fun. I always got to beat them up and not the other way around.

It also reminded me of what a shit person I was.

"Y-yeah. You can."

"Alright, John. Where is my stuff? This is the last time I'm asking, or I'll kill you. I'll kill you, your family and everyone you care about." I threatened simply.

Obviously, I was just shitting him. I wouldn't dare mess with the innocent. Unless they annoyed the fuck out of me. Then that was a whole other story.

"You can't! Please I'm begging you!" He rasped out exhausted.

"I won't if you tell me where they are."