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Savvy G: I now u c me callin u
Savvy G: Rowdy
Savvy G: ROWDY!!!!!
Savvy G: u now wat find u sum1 else 2 fuck n duck I’m done
8:44 a.m.
Savvy G:I can fuck u better then she can…
I had to read over some of her messages twice because Sav refused to use punctuation and spelled like she’d quit school in the third grade to show her ass for the gram.
I was the last person to knock how the next chose to survive, but Savannah was a trust-fund baby from the suburbs with a doctor and a lawyer for parents. Everything she did was for the right look, including fucking me.
Females like Sav would call me toxic with one breath and throw their pussy at me in the next. Money used to be the most coveted currency in the world, but now, in the age of social media, it was clout. People would lie, cheat, and steal for something that wasn’t even real or tangible. It would be there one day and gone the next.
When I first met Sav, I’d treated her well enough, but as time went on, what modicum of respect I had for her quickly disappeared. Talking to her felt like plucking the hair from my balls one by one because all she ever did was obsess over her appearance, brag about how many likes she got on a new photo, or mention what rapper or ball player was in her DMs this week in some sad attempt to make me jealous.
This wasn’t even her first time claiming to be done with me.
The first time was after she’d realized I had her and three other fuck buddies in rotation. She said she couldn’t live that way, and as I wasn’t particularly attached, I respected it and left her in the dust. That lasted a few weeks before she realized I wasn’t going to chase her, and she came crawling back.
Her second time being “done with me” only lasted a few days—same story, different girls.
Eventually, Savannah realized I wasn’t going to commit to her or any other girl, so she stopped demanding one from me and settled for beating up or running off any female whose direction I even sneezed in.
Now that Atlas had entered the chat, Savannah was back to her old tricks, but this time, her newfound sense of worth had only lasted a few hours.
I closed the messages without responding because I never did unless I wanted some pussy and left my office to start my day.
Downstairs, some of the guys working today had already arrived and were in the workshop finishing up whatever repairs were scheduled to be completed today while Atlas was at the doors, unlocking them for the handful of customers already waiting outside.
Saturdays were by appointment only for same-day services since we were only open for three hours, so most of the people we’d see today would either be dropping off or picking up their car.
I currently had three open tickets and Donny’s Caddy to finish customizing, but I still found myself in the lobby, leaning against the snack bar and not even bothering to pretend I wasn’t watching Atlas.
This girl had me in a chokehold and the longer I went without air, the less I needed it. I only wanted to be near her, whatever it cost me.
The fact that her back was turned, but she still knew I was close by, made it all the sweeter. It was evident in the way she kept turning her head as if to look over her shoulder, only to remember she hated me and stopped herself.
She still hadn’t thanked me for fixing her car, but I hadn’t expected her to since I was the reason she’d needed new tires in the first place. I’d taken the keys out of her purse after I’d hogtied her ass and thrown her in my trunk. I’d already regretted slashing her tires even before she kicked my ass all over the motel parking lot.
Eventually, I got a little hungry watching Atlas, so I rounded the bar and was perusing my options when I felt her presence at my back a second before her body wash reached me.
Atlas always smelled like oranges and vanilla, making me want to pour some Patrón all over her body and get drunk off her ass. It didn’t help that I’d already sampled her pussy and knew she tasted just as good as she smelled—like a fucking dream.
Without turning to confirm it was her, I said, “How can I help you, my little Dreamsicle?”
I turned around in time to see her pause before pursing her lips and pretending she hadn’t heard my new pet name for her. “There’s a customer here whose trunk won’t close and would like it fixed today.”
“Does she have an appointment?”
“No. I told her she’d have to come back on Monday, but she said her car was serviced here last week, and she believes the mechanic who performed the repairs damaged the latch. She doesn’t want to wait.”
I didn’t respond, simply jerked my chin toward the lobby, where the fuming woman waited for her return. Atlas paused, and I could see her reconsidering her decision to ask for my help.
“Be nice,” she ordered as if she were my boss instead of the other way around.
