Danger (Justin Bieber)

This story is by Jileyoverboard.
The reason i do this, is because it is an amazing story that i want you guys to read and share with your friends
So pls don't hate me :((


5. “Can’t get comfortable?”

I’m going to a murderer/ex-cons house. Wow, that would be something beautiful to tell my kids when I’m older.

I sighed, fidgeting in my seat. I’d lie if I said I wasn’t letting my nerves get to me.

I’d also lie if I said I didn’t get embarrassed when my butt rubbed against the leather of the seat and made a farting sound.

Danger chuckled. “Can’t get comfortable?” He smirked, taking a side glance towards me real quick before setting his eyes on the road before him.

I felt my cheeks heat up. “No, just . . . Getting car sick.” I lied, shrugging my shoulders mindlessly.

He shook his head. “Whatever you say, shawty.”

I rolled my eyes. This dude seriously needs help.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me bitch. Remember,” He grabbed my chin vigorously, turning me to face him. “you’re in my car.”

I winced at his touch. All I could do was nod.

“Good,” He pushed me away, returning his hand to the steering wheel.

I bit down on my lip, forcing myself not to say something back that I’d regret. Instead, I turned to look out the window of the car, wanting nothing more than to be in the warmness of my bed. Safe and sound where I should’ve been in the first place.

We had finally made it to what I guessed was his house sicne he parked the car in a garage looking space. I couldn’t help myself. . . my mouth dropped open in awe once the house came into view. I must say, I’m impressed. It’s pretty good looking from the angle I see it in.

Turning, I waited patiently to see what happens from here while leaning my head back and thinking about how this all came together and just how sad my life turned out to be.

I can’t really say I’m disappointed. I mean, I saw it coming. I just never thought it’d happen this way.

Out of all the things I could have witnessed tonight--someone getting shit drunk and throwing up everywhere, a girl strip teasing (those things have happened before, don’t judge me), walking in on a couple making out--but no. I watched someone getting murdered.

The more I think about it, the more I think my life is turning out to be one big ass soap opera.

I was the quiet girl, did my homework, listened to my parents, I made sure I had good grades and took care of myself. I didn’t get too out of control when I went out, I was an overall good person. I was shy, quirky, a loud mouth sometimes. . .

I did good things. I never did one single “bad” thing. . . Until tonight, when I snuck out and it had to be the first time I ever did anything “extreme” for me to get into such trouble.

Now, here I was, in the car of a killer while he took me to his place.

I must’ve dozed off for a while because I didn’t even notice Danger had gotten out of the car until the door to my side opened and I almost fell out.

I groaned.

He chuckled which only made me groan even louder. “So not funny.” I pointed out while jumping out of his range rover.

“It is to me.” He shrugged before shutting the door closed and making his way in front of me.

I secretly rolled my eyes, following suit behind him. The last thing I needed was to get lost and have God knows what else happen to me.

Being taken by a murderer was enough to keep me from doing anything else stupid.

Fumbling on my feet while he rummaged his jean pockets for the keys to his place, I bit down on my lip, curious as to what’s going to happen to me.

He said I wasn’t going to die but who knows if he’s telling the truth? I did see him kill someone which means I witnessed a murder. Not like I’d say anything anyways but who knows if they know that or trust that I wouldn’t?

“Are you coming in or do I have to drag you inside myself?”

“Huh?” I snapped out of my daze, looking up at him with wide curious eyes.

He shook his head. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me inside before shutting the front door closed behind us. He turned his head to look at me. “Follow me,” He nodded towards the stairs.

I nodded.

Walking up the stairs, I bit down on my lip, keeping my eyes to myself, careful as to not catch the attention of anyone else who could possibly be here at this late hour.

What time was it anyways?

“What time is it?” I suddenly blurted out, something that constantly happened to me in situations quite like this one. I always managed to speak out my thoughts one way or another.

“A quarter to two. Why?” He walked into a room which I guess was his.

My eyes practically bugged out of their sockets when realization hit. I was so dead when I got home. That is, if I end up going home tonight. “No reason.” I sighed.

He shrugged carelessly, walking into the room a little further as the door shut behind us.

I took this time I look around. It was huge. He had a king sized bed in the middle with burgundy sheets, a comforter over it designed in black lace. The walls were a dark drown, almost cherry-brown. I was in complete and utter awe to say the least.

“You like it?” He smirked, his eyebrow arching.

I bit the inside of my cheek before nodding. “This is like. . . Three times the size of my room!”

He chuckled. “Well, don’t get too used to it. You’ll be leaving soon enough. I just have to get a few things settled then you should be good to go.”

I nodded, still taking in the room I was currently standing in.

Suddenly the door to his room opened revealing a petite girl, around the same size as me, with dark black hair that fell in sultry curls down her shoulders and vibrant blue eyes the color of the ocean.

I was frozen in shock.

She was gorgeous.

When her eyes fell upon my presence, her face twisted up in horror mixed with disgust. I cringed.

“What is she doing here?” She spat, her voice dripping with venom, her blue irises burning holes into mine.

I tried to look away but there was something about her that kept my eyes locked on hers.

Danger turned, his eyes growing hard. “Don’t start.” He lowly exclaimed sending chills down my spine.

Scoffing, she flicked her hair back behind her shoulder, pulling her gaze from me to look at him before retrieving back to me and rolling her eyes. Giving me one last look that spelt disgust, she turned on the heels of her Louis Vutton stilettos, walking out of the room.

I gulped hard. “What was that all about?” I managed to squeak out in question form.

His eyes never left the door she (whoever “she” was) just recently exited from. “Don’t worry about it.” He growled underneath his nose, pushing past me and walking out of the room as well, leaving me alone to question what just happened and if I had any fault in this.


From what I've learned in the past: When people usually say "don't worry", you should most likely worry.

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