There’s the option of going home and calling it a night, but my beast rebels against the very foundation of that idea.
I’ve been keeping him entertained by chasing, biting, choking, and fucking Mia in the most acrobatic positions. Not to mention the bursts of creativity caused by her mere presence.
Forget being able to sculpt after she’s gone. That’s impossible now. My muse only manifests itself whenever Mia is around and is at its peak after I’ve fucked her to several powerful orgasms.
So I can’t possibly get to work now or I’ll only produce mediocracy. After being used to glimpses of perfection, I can’t allow myself to slide back down to the peasant category.
I just refuse to work on anything but finishing touches when she’s not around.
The addiction I feared is now flowing in my veins and turning into a nuisance. The worst part is that it’s probably too late to cut it out without suffering the consequences.
So what should I do now?
Maybe you can just water the plants as she asked?
I’m about to reach for that sappy part of my brain and strangle him to death, but I catch a glimpse of three masked men standing in front of my car.
Well, well.
Seems my beast won’t go home empty, after all.
They are, of course, the Heathens. The one wearing a yellow stitch mask didn’t even bother to put any effort into hiding his identity. Nikolai is still wearing black shorts from when we were fighting. His distinctive tattoos, which could give an artist a stroke, are on full display.
A baseball bat hangs nonchalantly on the shoulder of Red Mask, who’s none other than Killian. The reason I know is disgusting at best and involves seeing Glyn wearing it before making out with the bastard in his car when they came to visit my parents.
Naturally, I emptied his tires of air the moment he went inside. All four of them.
What? I managed to blame it on wild animals.
The orange mask is Jeremy, judging by the height and unnecessarily bulky build.
His weapon is a metal golf club that could possibly shatter someone’s skull. The target in this case being me.
But I do have a car that could crush a few legs. Preferably all three pairs of them. I grin as I rev my engine.
This baby can go from zero to one hundred in a few seconds and will teach them a lesson or two.
Nikolai approaches first, not giving a fuck about my McLaren’s loud engine.
He hits the bonnet with a fist. “Come outside.”
The tasteless brute dared to touch my car.
All I need is to hit the accelerator and he’ll join his family’s graves.
One second passes.
Two.
Three.
I don’t hit it.
As annoying as Bran is, he was right. If I hurt Nikolai, Mia is out of the picture faster than a rocket. Hell, she might hurt me back for revenge like she did with that blood bath.
In fact, that would be mild compared to what she’d do to me this time. And while I don’t give a fuck about violence, I do give two fucks about her pulling away from me.
Truth is, I give more than a few fucks. A dozen of them, to be more specific.
I push my gear stick back to Park, shut off the engine, and step out of the car. Motherfucker.
Pain spreads through my limbs. It takes me more effort than necessary to stand by the car and paint a mocking smile on my face.
“To what do I owe this unpleasant surprise?”
“Do you want us to start counting all the shit you’ve stirred?” Jeremy asks while tapping his golf club on the ground.
“We’d probably be a while if you do that, so how about I take a rain check on that and this entire Halloween-esque encounter?”
“You think you can get away with it?” Nikolai steps in front of me.
“Already did. Also, the masks look hideous, so you should consider an urgent makeover of the brand. You’re welcome for the free aesthetic advice.”
Killian steps beside Nikolai and swings his bat. I don’t move or flinch as he stops it a mere inch away from my face.
“Hi, Killian. Glyn has been wishing that we’d spend some time together. Should we FaceTime her and show this beautiful scene? Or maybe you’d rather she finds out after you’re done with beating me up for sport?”
“You’ll have no proof.”
“There’s no need. She’ll know it’s you.” I motion at Jeremy. “You, too. Cecy might have gotten over her crush on me, but I’m still her childhood friend. A peaceful soul like hers would shatter to pieces if she finds out you touched a hair on my gorgeous head.”
Jeremy lifts the club, but he doesn’t even swing it in my direction.