Sorry, that was terribly short. I don't own anything.

Madge

I squealed, covering my eyes fast as I could. "Y-You're naked!" I sputtered.

The boy snorted. "Please. I'm half naked."

"Then I hope that you have pants on," I snipped.

"Nope."

I gagged. "You're kidding. Please tell me you are."

"My God, Princess. Of course I'm kidding!"

I slowly uncovered my eyes. The boy in front of me looked about seventeen, my age. He had dark chocolate hair; angry, scorching slate-colored irises; and tanned skin.

"What?" his voice jerked me out of studying him.

He smirked. "Find something interesting, Princess?"

I shook my head. "You wish."

"Ah, Princess has some mouth on her, huh? Does Daddy know that?" the boy taunted. "Or is she a goody two shoes?"

"Who are you?" I asked again, ignoring his question.

"Answer mine and I'll answer yours."

"Yeah, I do have a sharp tongue, no, Daddy doesn't know—and I intend to keep it that way—stranger, and yes, I'm a goody two shoes," I growled. "Now who are you?"

The boy grinned. It looked like trouble. "Gale Hawthorne at your service. And who might you be?"

I hesitated, but gave in. "Madge Undersee, at your service," I mocked, and bowed.

Gale gritted his teeth. "Pleased to meet you. Now untie me."

Shaking my head, I glared. "I don't even know why you're here."

He shrugged. "Guess precious Daddy found me lying in the park, lookin' dead as a doornail. God, I felt like one too."

I perked up. "What happened?"

Gale shrugged again. "The usual. Trying to kill someone, failing, getting knocked out. Although, I don't always fail…"

I looked at him in horror. "You're a murderer?" I whispered.

"Mmm, yeah. But yesterday, I tried to kill Bobby because he shot my cousin couple years ago. He deserves it."

Tears threaten to spill over. "Bobby who?"

"Eh, I don't know. Doesn't really matter, thought, because I'll find him eventually," Gale replied.

I back away slowly. Gale's not looking at me, so he doesn't—

"Where are you going?" he asked, facing me suddenly.

I start to shake. This boy is a murderer. He barely looks like he's out of high school! "I-I can't be here," I choke out.

Gale narrows his grey, steely eyes. "I can smell your lie." He scowls. "You can be here; for Lord's sake, it's the dining table. My ass is where your plate will be tonight!"

"Actually, my father's plate," I correct quietly.

"Oh, excuse me. Daddy's plate," Gale sneers. He halts. "Wait. Undersee. You're the mayor's daughter."

I nod slowly, afraid. This boy may be tied to a table, but he could probably still hurt me.

"The mayor's daughter," Gale huffs. "I'm in the mayor's house. Good God!"

"There's nothing wrong with us!" I snap at him, insulted.

He snorts. "Nothing wrong with you," he scoffs. "Tell me something truthful, Princess."

"I like to eat ketchup alone," I reply after a moment's hesitation.

Gale snorts. "A ketchup-eating bitch. I like it."