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Cat was mine now. In exchange for me being hers, we’d even given vows to each other on her bed.
Privy to my secrets and past, things that had remained out of the tabloids. Because of that, because of my understanding of what it was like to be forced into situations no one would fucking want when she’d asked for time, I’d agreed. And agreeing to do that was easy, with her hands moving up and down on my cock, her touch soothing to my skin, like a balm that made every wicked memory disappear.
Her hands were always in my fucking shorts, my tongue in her mouth while she’d ride my fingers to the knuckle. All that led to our mouths taking over, her hips bucking to meet my kisses as warm breaths caressed her pretty little clit.
Moving along in stages, it was like a real relationship. It was like working for a reward I was so close to getting.
A new thrill.
A new high to chase.
Drugs couldn’t compare.
I could stop…would stop.
“Oh, I’ve raised the price.” Cedric delayed me.
“I don’t have any more money on me. I don’t trust Alerion not to hack into my bank or some shit. I don’t want him to know I’m here.”
“You think he doesn’t already?” Cedric’s girly giggle came out again.
“What’s that?” he questioned, seeing a pink mark—a cursive C—on my finger.
I moved my hands quickly, tucking my fingers under long sleeves. “None of your fucking business. Now, I have to see Cat. Stay the fuck down here.”
“I told you—” He gripped my sweatshirt in a puny fist.
I stared down at the hairy knuckles, at the audacity of him thinking he could fucking touch me.
“Get.Off.Me.” I shrugged, pushing him back the one step he’d taken. “I’ll pay the difference next time.”
“Then you’ll see her when you pay.”
The desire to punch him in his weak jaw was strong, my fists curling, ready to do it. A noise upstairs caught my attention.
The dull walls, painted in a color that implanted melancholy in my soul, were blocked out by two men. A third man worked to put Cat’s bedroom door in place.
My dark hood hung over my eyes and interrupted how much of their faces I saw. They took the steps on wobbling legs, crossing me on my delayed journey up and not giving a fuck about the old wives’ tale that said it was unlucky.
I gripped the last man by his collar, his clothing similar to mine but cheaper—so cheap, it ripped as I pulled him, and he fell into me. The commotion pulled down my hood. I didn’t care.
“What were you doing up there?”
He ignored me, having questions of his own. “Holy fuck, are you—”
“Answer my question.”
“We came to see the girl.”
“Why?”
“For the same reason everyone comes here. She’s still fucking out of it, go and release your fucking frustrations on her.”
It was ironic that I felt rage over what he said because I, myself, had drugged Cat and taken advantage of her. I had taken tastes of her that she didn’t want me to have back then. But my fingers still tingled with heat as they wrapped around his throat, squeezing and cutting off whatever else he was trying to say that would increase how much his existence pissed me off.
“Hey, man…chill,” one of his loser friends tried coaxing me down.
I shot him a side-eyed glare, wishing it was a gun I shot his way, loaded with bullets.
