I know she’s right. The last few weeks have changed me in ways I haven’t fully grasped yet. Zain has chipped away at the invisible layers I never knew I had, and I’m eager to find what’s underneath. Despite our last exchange, I find my thoughts drifting back to him. I know the sensible thing would be to stay away—and I plan to do that—but it doesn’t mean I can’t continue to let my mind wander to…places.
No, Vesper, he’s unpredictable and crosses so many lines he’s a walking red flag.
“I still have time to talk to him,” I admonish, pushing open my bedroom door. “I’m just hoping he can understand.”
“It’s been too long since I’ve had my dick sucked,” Kieran says, tossing a purple lighter in my direction. I catch it with ease.
Clicking it open, the flame dances under my cigarette. “A whole twenty-four hours?” I chide, tossing it back.
His head leans back against the wall, and he hums out a laugh. A strung-out redhead is plastered to his side. “Nah, more like twelve.” His head tips forward into a smirk and he lowers her to her knees roughly. I lean casually against the countertop and shake my head. Swear the dude is a sex addict. I take the opportunity to push his buttons.
Love riling this fucker up.
“You see Clara’s new fuckboy?” I raise a brow and take a heavy hit of my cigarette. Don’t know who or if the bitch is fucking anyone, but I love ruffling his feathers. Judging by what I’ve seen, she fucks anything with a cock. The bitch is broken, and her fractures are the only things that feeds his twisted, dark mind. He loves fuckin’ with the pieces, putting them back together in a scrambled mess. Or maybe he likes splintering them further until they crumble to nothin’. Depends on his mood.
He forces his zipper down and shoves his cock into the bitch’s mouth. He runs his tongue along his teeth. She fake moans and bobs her head back and forth. A haze of smoke fills the kitchen.
“Don’t care,” he shrugs, gripping her crown and jamming his dick down her throat harder.
I smirk and shake my head, but don’t comment.
I resist the urge to pull my phone out and track Vesper. I took the liberty of installing a tracer on her phone in addition to routing all her texts to my phone. During our last encounter, she invited me to visit her father, Pearson Santi, for the holiday. It was amusing. Her daddy would never approve. If anything, my presence would just force his hand, force him to lock her away from the world like the sick bastard he is. Which would hinder my plan too much.
Choking and gurgling fill the silence. “That’s it, swallow my cum like a good bitch,” Kieran groans.
Just as he finishes, he plucks her from his cock, tucking it away. Doesn’t even wait for the bitch to catch her breath. “Get the fuck out,” he growls, tossing her by her crown.
Her hands slap against the dirty linoleum floor. Why these bitches keep crawling back to Kieran is beyond me. The fucker is emotionally detached and impatient. Never thinks shit through before he does it.
His eyes lock with mine. I resist the urge to fuck with him more. He’s good and pissed off. Whatever shit he has going on with Clara intrigues me. The fucker’s fixation better not fuck with shit I have planned. Don’t need his dumb shit interfering with mine. “What?” I say sharply, flicking my cigarette ash along the edge of the counter.
His jaw ticks, and he releases a dark, gritty laugh. “Fuck you, Zain.”
He pushes off the wall and shoulder checks me as he reaches for the fridge handle.
He yanks it open and grabs a beer. “How’s your toy?” he muses, popping open the can with a hiss.
This fucker.
I crane my neck around and flick the cigarette in his direction. “Fuck you, Kieran,” I return.
The fucker smiles a mile wide, proud of the fact he gets under my skin like a fuckin’ parasite.
“She went back to Daddy for the holiday,” I say simply. He swoops in front of me and slides an unopened beer across the countertop.
“I heard that fuckwad Jax went to my father. You need to be careful man,” he warns, bringing his beer to his lips.
I flick open my beer and gulp it down in one fluid motion. “Careful?” I scoff. “I’m not concerned with that useless fuck. As far as I’m concerned, I silenced him. He knows his place. I have immunity. Roland made sure of that. The only thing my useless fuckin’ father ever gave me,” I sneer.
He flicks his tongue along the roof of his mouth and sniggers. Such a cynical fucker. “You don’t know shit, Z.” He shakes his head.
I push off the counter and grab another beer. I slam the fridge closed, rattling it. “Rich comin’ from you.”
I know I’m being a dick. Nothin’ he’s not used to. He knows I’m a moody motherfucker.
My anger gets the best of me until it boils over like a lidded pot. It is what it is.
The difference between Kieran and me is how we handle our tempers. When he gets pushed to the edge, he internalizes, and the wheels start turnin’ as he figures out his next move. For him, he lacks planning and acts on impulse. He’s a loose cannon and unpredictable in a sense of the crazy shit he will do. Guy thinks with his feels too much.PatienceandKierancannot coexist in the same sentence. One would call him enigmatic.
