In The Middle Of A Gunfight

*Gerard's POV*

The car slows down in front of a mansion that's so large it was fucking ridiculous. The house doesn't stand more than two stories high. It all sits in front of a large ocean view. No sign of any neighbors, or any community for that matter, for miles. The place is lit up despite the late hour. I wonder how many people live here and if they were aware of the stranger this man brought with him. The man sitting up front on the passenger side gets out of the car and walks over to my side to open the door. I hesitate and the man beside me gestures me to get out. I get out of the car and the man from the car leads us up to the front door. I hear the car drive off behind us. The door is opened and were greeted to a large room with two extravagant staircases. I feel almost blinded boy how clean and polished everything is. The door is closed behind us and the man and I are alone. He stands beside me, too close, with a look of pride on his face.

"Amazing isn't it?" He says in his think New Jersey accent.

Of of course this guy has his head stuck up his own ass. if he expects me to give him praise like everyone else does, then he is wrong. I say nothing.

The man raises his eyebrows after a moment of my silence, but then he smiles. "Why don't you come with me to my office?" He then begins to walk through another room and I have no other choice than to follow. We walk through the house and, ironically enough, I can't keep my eyes off the beautiful things the house posses. I look up at the man. He's young. Too young to own a house like this. The rooms look like they each have their own themes, all containing expensive works of art and statues. I was amazed at what I saw and this was only part of the house. We finally reached a room with a closed door. The man took out a set of keys and opened it, he then gestures for me to go in first. The room was made to intimidate, and that was how I felt. Both the carpet and the walls are red. There were trophies, more expensive art and a desk that sat in the middle of the room with two chairs in the front of it. A safe sat in the right corner. There were no windows. The man shut the door and sat behind the desk.

"Please, why don't you sit?"

I didn't keep my eyes off him as I took a seat in the chair closes to the door. he was smirking now, with his hands locked together.

"Do you know who I am?" The man asks.

"No."

He chuckled and bore his eyes into mine. "I only ask because my family owns this town." His days with his face looking even more smug.

"What are you, the fucking mafia?" I said in defiance. The man giggles at this.

"Precisely," he watches me digest this with a dangerous smile, "my name is Frank Iero and my father is the leader of an international drug cartel."

Oh fuck me. He just had to pick me, didn't he? I felt a cold chill run through my body. I was nervous but I refused to let it show.

"I know you have questions. In your shoes, who wouldn't? We should go back to the beginning. Let's talk about what happened tonight. I came to that dingy little bar to meet with a man named Brenden Urie, which is the man I shot. Brenden Urie used to work for my father. He was a rookie and my father wanted to send him out with someone who had a little more experience, my best friend and right hand man, Ray Toro. He wanted Ray to teach Brenden the ropes. Brenden was naive but enthusiastic. He thought Brenden had potential to become a part of the family. I didn't like Brenden the first time I laid my red on him. I told my father but he didn't listen."

Frank slammed his fist on the table, then composed himself. My father sent Ray and Brenden out to meet with old clients of ours, but Brenden was the only one who came back. Apparently, something had gone wrong with the deal and Ray was murdered. The fucker said that our clients, who we've been working with for the past 10 years, had shot Ray out of greed. I met with Brenden at the bar as soon as I got the call that he and Ray had never even met with our clients. The original plan was to get him to confess to the murder and an explanation as to why he did it. Then, I would have taken him out back in the alley and shot him there. It wasn't a fashion statement, it was a fucking death wish. Usually the way we work isn't dirty, but I couldn't help myself."

Frank looks down at his hands. "When he sat down at the table he didn't even get to say a word before I lifted my gun to his head."

"I'm sorry about your friend." I offer.

Frank looks up at me and gives me a look that I can't place. "You understand why I did it. I wasn't just for revenge, but for what else he could have done to my family. Who knows who else he could have murdered if I hadn't done what I did?"

He was looking at me with such an intense gaze that I had to look away. "I understand why you did it. It was to protect your family and revenge your friend's death. But you forgot to explain where I come in in all of this. Did I do something wrong?" I enquire.

"No, no you haven't done anything wrong. I just want to get to know you," he cocks his head to the side, "you know my name and you haven't even told me yours."

"My name is Ryan Murphy."

"You know, I like you. Already. You're a smart kid. You wouldn't be here if I wanted nothing to do with you. I respect you. All I ask in return is for you to respect me. Now I'm going to ask you again. What is your name?"

I melted under his gaze yet again. "My name is Gerard."

"Gerard?"

"Way."

"Gerard Way. That wasn't that hard, was it? It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, where do you fit in all of this," Frank looks down in thought, "you fit in because I like you. That's the best I've got." Frank laughs and stands up to walk over to my chair. "When I saw you at the bar you weren't screaming or even dazed by the chaos surrounding you. You look determined, focused on something. Please, tell me what you were thinking."

I swallow thickly. "I was looking for a way out. It wouldn't do me any good to freak out in a sticky situation."

Frank stared at me with a certain glint in his eyes. "Right you are. I was right about you. Tell me Gerard, am I right that you would have skipped town if I hadn't taken you?"

"Yes."

"Do you have anywhere else to stay, Gerard?"

Frank would know know if I was lying. "No."

Frank sits on the desk, right in front of me. "I'm going to purpose something Gerard. Why don't you stay here with me? You'll have your own room, the service of all the staff at the house, and anything you desire while you stay here."

"And the catch?" There's always a catch.

Frank laughs again. "I would necessarily call it a catch, I want you to be my conpanion of sorts. I haven't felt the same since Ray died. As you've seen, this is a very large house and it can get very lonely when you're by yourself."

"What do you mean by companion?"

"I want you to be my friend. I want to wake up and have breakfast with someone other than the help, who I pay to be here. They think they'll get a raise of they entertain me. I want someone to come home to. We can watch movies, play games, whatever you want."

This guy needs a friend. Someone who he could just hold for awhile. I'll stay and then get the hell out of dodge when he has his back turned. From what I've witnessed, Frank could be a lunatic with a happy trigger finger. On the other hand, he's been honest about everything. Frank is very endearing. He's also very spontaneous. I'm afraid he'll have me shot if I say no.

"Okay."

"Perfect! Do you have anything with you? I can have my men pick your stuff up."

"No. I don't have anything."

"Well, you can borrow some clothes tonight. I can take you to buy some more tomorrow. Let me lead you to your room." Frank stood up and was already heading towards the door, and I had to jog to keep up with him.

With that, it was a sealed deal. I would be staying here, for god knows how long, with an international drug dealer. Hopefully soon he'll find another play thing and I can slip out.

We walked through the the big empty house, our foot steps echoing on the floor. Everything was so white and pristine. We came to a stair case and Frank took two steps at a time.

"Your room will be down the hall, last room on the right. Mine will be on the left, right across from yours," he turned around to smile at me, "you don't mind, do you?"

"No, that's fine."

"You're so quiet, Gerard. I hope you become more relaxed here. You can ask me anything. I want you to feel comfortable here."

He opened the door and waited for me to go in. The room had a color scheme of white, grey, and black. The bed was queen sized with a black comforter and white sheets that faced a a large glass sliding door leading to a balcony with an incredible view of the ocean. The room was amazing. I even had my own private bathroom and a walkin closet.

"You like it. I'm glad. This is your room now, Gerard. You can make it however you want it. It's been a long night, and I bet you're tired. Why don't you take a shower? You smell like dog shit. I'll leave some clothes on your bed." Frank left and shut the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My head hurt so much that I couldn't think. Now that Frank mentioned it, all I wanted to do now was to take a shower and go to bed. I opened the bathroom door and saw my reflection in he mirror above the sink. My hair was beyond greasy. My skin looked like it was covered in dirt. My clothes were torn, ratted, and stained with splatters of blood soaked in. I take it all off and throw it in the corner. There were bruises all over my stomach. Red, angry cuts coveted my thighs. I could see my ribs through my chest. My lips are red and chapped. Dark, heavy bags under my eyes. My skin looks so pale and dry under this light. I turn away from the mirror and start the shower. I step in and move my face under the warm water. It feels so nice that I groan, it feels as if all the filth is washing off of me, though not quite. I run my hands through my hair and look down to see dirt and blood running down the drain.

***

I stayed in that shower till the water ran cold. I now smelled like some expensive brand that I could never afford. I had washed all the dirt and grime off my skin and out of my hair. I stepped out into the bath mat and dried my hair and body. I then wrapped the white towel around me and stepped out into the cold air. It was quite, almost eerily so. I saw the clothes Frank had given me sitting on the edge of the bed. Some sweat pants, a pair of boxer shorts and a shirt. I got dressed and slide under the covers. I was dog tired and the bed was too comfortable. I fell asleep as soon as my eyes closed.

Notes

Hi! I hope you're doing well.

I changed some things, like the rating. I also made it into Gerard's point of view. I already know how the story is going to end and how bad it's going to get. Hopefully this means that updates will come faster.

Please comments to let me know what you guys think! :)