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The guy on the other side, so drunk or high, hasn’t even noticed me pummeling his friend. He’s overly concerned with Kaci’s hand and its inability to stroke his half-limp cock to climax.

Normally, I’d give it a minute, say something smart-assed to get his attention, but seeing her like this is killing me. I opt for a quick knee to the face. This guy actually has the courtesy to pass out with the first hit. Clearly, he’s smarter than his sexual assault companion.

“Thank God,” someone in the crowd mutters. My eyes snap up to try to determine who it was. “Glad someone stopped it. That chick has been passed out for the last ten minutes.”

My eyes narrow on the guy across the room. Shock and dread wash over his face as I make my way in his direction. Hitting this fucker in the face is just as satisfying as the first two. I grip him by the hair as he falls to his knees.

“If you see something wrong going on,” I kick the stupid fucker in the gut, “then you fucking put a stop to it.”

I lift my eyes to my captive audience. “Quit being fucking sheep!”

People grumble and turn to look away. I fucking hate people.

“Give me your keys,” I tell the guy, shaking him by the hair still in my fist.

His hand pats his pocket, and less than a breath later he’s pushing a keyring into my palm.

“Now get the fuck up and show me where you parked.”

I release him, but the guy must be an all A student because he doesn’t try to get away. He even waits to the side while I lean over and scoop Kaci up. She’s dead weight in my arms, and I hate that she’s put herself in this situation, but even more so because showing her how I feel about her behavior wouldn’t even be remembered by morning time.

“Will you return it?”

“Fuck no,” I grunt. He opens the passenger side door, so I can lower Kaci inside without jostling her too much, and for some reason, I’m less angry because of the kind gesture. “I’ll park it back on the street in a couple hours.”

“Thank you.”

Ignoring him, I walk down the block to grab my cut and jacket off my bike.

“That’s badass,” the guy praises when I slide the double layers of leather over my back. “I’ve always wanted to be in a motorcycle club.”

“You don’t have the fucking nuts for it.”

With that parting declaration, I hop in his truck and take off.

I strapped Kaci into her seatbelt, but with each sharp turn and equally crappy road I take, her head just rolls back and forth. I should’ve strapped her into the middle seat so I could put my arm around her to keep her steady, but the console between us is loaded down with shit.

I slam on the brakes, noticing the stop light mere seconds before blowing through it. Paying attention to Kaci instead of the road nearly just caused a wreck.

“Ughhh.” My eyes snap to her again.

She’s moving her hands a little but making no effort to open her eyes. Either she’s been out of it for a while, or they didn’t give her much. My teeth clench.

“I’m getting you home safely.”

She makes a sound like a snort, but she doesn’t say another thing. She doesn’t jolt when I place the truck in park, or when I open her door. Goosebumps sprout all over her exposed flesh, but I’m too pissed right now to even enjoy the sight of her pushed up tits and the way the skin pebbles there.

As fucking usual, the key is under the goddamn mat. I don’t know why she fucking bothers to hide it. She might as well just hang it on a damn string from the doorknob. Not locking the door at all would require the least amount of effort.

“You’re gonna end up dead,” I hiss when I unlock the door of her studio apartment and push it open with the toe of my boot.

“Sounds like a good time,” she mumbles.

Without conscious thought, my head shakes, and my mouth tilts up in a frustrated smile.

“Why would you put yourself in harm’s way like that? Those guys could’ve hurt you tonight.”

She doesn’t bother to open her eyes, but her lips tilt as if what happened tonight happened exactly as she’d planned.

“I think you were drugged again.”

She sniffs, more clearing her nose like a coke user than as if she’s getting sick and in need of a tissue. I have a long history with my dad being a user. The signs are all over this girl. ”Happens a lot.”

“You drive me insane,” I grumble, shifting her weight in my arms so I can pull back the covers of her bed. I’m surprised the thing is made with how chaotic her life is.

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