((A/N: I'm sorry the last chapter was kind of a disappointment…well, to my three reviewers: I hope this 'chapter' doesn't let you down!
I realize this is a short chapter, but it's a work-in-progress preview of chapter 11…I realized the other day it's been about a month since my last update, and I don't know when I'll get to update again with school starting and me being stuck at the moment.
Since this is a WIP chapter, any advice would be greatly appreciated!
To The Illustrious Crackpot—I'm sorry I haven't gotten to read your updates yet, but I will; I'm about 2 weeks behind on fanfiction updates! T.T
As Wayne stared down the barrel of Matthew's gun, he should've been able to feel his heart pounding against his chest as adrenaline—and, for the first time, fear—coursed through his system
But he couldn't.
What the heck? He thought. I can't feel my heart… Needing to address this new twist, Wayne fumbled with his hands behind his back, trying to feel his pulse. His movements didn't get by Matt, who cocked the gun and growled, "What are you doing?"
Wayne needed a cover story, and fast. "I'm trying to get out of these chains so we can talk in a calm, civilized manner about why you hate me so much," he declared, momentarily wondering just where on God's earth that brilliant thought had come from.
"Oh, I see," Bowman smirked, lowering the weapon, "you're trying to buy yourself a bit of time, hoping your little guardian angels will save you…I told you, they won't be able to find you…even if they could, there'd be no way for them to get in—my home is protected against spirits, remember? But I'll humour you," he continued, sitting cross-legged on a box. "What do you want to know?"
"I told you," Wayne retorted as he tried to twist his left hand towards his right wrist, "I want to know why you hate me so much."
It seemed that Matthew was not to be as calm as Wayne was. "You ruined my uncle!" he shouted, a crimson colour tinting his face. "You took…you took everything he had...you pulled your show from his networks, humiliating him and Noah Vanderhoff—Vanderhoff had a lot of money invested in your show—you took his girl—"
"Hey!" Wayne snipped. "Cassandra was mine long before your asshole of an uncle ever came along!" Before he could continue further, Matt was on him immediately, shoving the gun under his chin and titling his head up.
"Never talk bad about him," Matt snarled dangerously. "EVER!
((A/N: I think that for the first time in a while, I'll be able to finish a fanfiction! Yay! Well...provided my ideas work...thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and helped me out so far!