Tantrums

When I wake up, I'm still in the same position, but there's a blanket over me and the sun is lower in the sky. Jake is there, next to me, closer than before. His leg is crossed, his foot propped on his other knee, with an open tablet on his lap, the screen split between what looks like CCTV cameras of the inside of clubs.

"I thought today was your day off?" I murmur, my voice rough with sleep.

He blinks and looks over at me. "Darling, Cobra never take a day off—too many people to kill, too much money to earn."

Yawning, I sit up and stretch, reaching my arms out and cracking my back. When I blink and look over, Jake is watching me with hungry eyes. They run across my body like orbs of fire, and I shrink away, wondering if this will be the moment he attacks, but all he does is look back at his tablet.

Licking my lips, I cross my legs and turn to face him so I can see any of the blows that come—an old habit. He notices, of course, and turns slightly towards me, typing on his tablet. "Are the others still out?"

"Why? Anxious to see them?"

"Definitely not, just wondering if I need to hide yet." I sigh.

That has him lifting his head. "Hide?"

"Yes. From the crazy dude and, well, the one that's going to be pissed," I reply, wondering if Sylvester will kill me when he sees his clothes, but I don't regret it. The perfect bastard deserved it after this morning.

"Black is harmless…okay, that's a lie. He's harmless to us. If he ever killed us, it would be because there was no other choice." Jake shrugs.

"And you're calm about that? What about everyone else?" I challenge.

"They are fair game," he retorts.

"Christ, he's literally insane, you can see that, right?" I almost yell.

Jake looks up, and I see that same darkness in his eyes the others have, the one he hides behind a charming persona. He might be calmer, he might talk sweeter and be more of a ladies' man, but underneath it all still lives a monster. "Do not talk about what you don't know, Zamsii. That man has been through hell and back. It's bound to leave damage, and he's our brother. We'll protect him from anyone, understood?"

I nod, a little bit scared. Just as soon as it was there, he blinks, and is back to smiling again. It's fucking scary how quickly he can change. "Your room is done, I put your bag in there as well."

"My bag?" I repeat with a frown.

"Yes, you might want to shower and change. You're starting to smell." He smirks.

That rat fucking bastard.

He has the audacity to tell me that I smell after I was punched, knocked out, locked up, and became a prisoner? I should have cut his clothes up as well. Throwing him a glare, I storm back to my room, sniffing my armpit as I go.

Fucking Cobras.