Ryder
Closing out of my browser, I sit back in the office chair, looking out of my office glass door. The whole wall is glass. I had it made that way, so I can always see what’s on the other side. Never letting my guard down. I’ve had to learn the hard way over the years in my line of work.
I pick up my cell that’s sitting next to my laptop. It’s a quarter till nine. My nights at the office have become longer. I have a man in the cellar below that’s taken up quite a bit of my time this week. I don’t plan on keeping him around much longer if he doesn’t give up the information I want.
Closing my laptop, I huff and pull myself to stand. I need to get my ass home and wash the dried blood off before people start showing up for my sister’s party. I don’t have time to be questioned. Most of the people are in the society or they wouldn’t be at my house, so they won’t think anything of it. I just don’t have the patience to deal with them tonight.
Scanning my right hand on the elevator pad, I wait for the doors to open. I bought the basement of an older bank in the center of town and made it my office. Shortly after remodeling the floor to my liking, I had hired a crew under the table to dig a cellar underneath it with prisoner cells. I never had it permitted. Never wanted anyone to knowabout it if shit ever hit the fan and we were raided by the FBI.
The elevator doors ding, and I step inside, pressing the button for the first floor. At this time of night, the bank is closed, and it’s dark enough out that if anyone sees me, they’ll never know that what I’m wearing is another poor soul’s blood.
Stepping out of the elevator, the bank is exactly how I expected it—vacant. I punch in the code for the security system, unlock the door, then redo the code, giving me just enough time to get outside and lock the door behind me.
I pull the keyfob out of my pocket and make my way to my Kawasaki Ninja superbike. Unzipping my backpack, I pull out my leather jacket, sliding my arms through the sleeves and zipping it up, then slip my backpack back on. My helmet hangs off the handlebars, so I pull it off and secure it onto my head.
The bike roars when I turn the key in the ignition. I rev the engine before kicking up the kickstand, then I burn rubber hauling ass out of the parking lot.
Staying late at the office has its perks, for example, I can tear up the streets without worrying about traffic or cops. I’m in a hurry to get home so that I can focus more on my girl. I haven’t fucked anyone in months since I met her, and I’m itching to get her in my arms. Preferably tonight.
Pulling to a stop in the driveway at the back of the house, I remove my helmet and step the bike into the basement garage. We have two garages, but the basement holds our toys.
Making my way inside the basement, I notice all the gym equipment has already been moved out and replaced with folding tables and a couch for later tonight. As I make my way up the creaky wooden steps, I hear chattering from the other side of the door, and let out a sigh, dreading what I’m about to face.
I haven’t made it three steps into the kitchen, and I’ve already been bombarded with questions, but nobody seems to be concerned with the blood smeared across my jeans and splattering my combat boots. I push past the growing crowd, heading towards the stairs leading to my room, when a hand grabs my bicep, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to see a girl with long brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and her deep blue eyes look hazy. Probably from the drugs she’s consumed tonight.
“Hey, Ry.” Her tongue runs across her top teeth, “Need some company?”
Looking her up and down, my lip pulls back in disgust. She really outdid herself tonight, wearing her cheap hooker, platform stilettos with the fishnets tucked into a sequined leotard. I’ve fucked Lexie before, but that’s all she ever was. A quick and easy fuck. There’s only one girl on my mind, and it’s not the one standing in front of me like a starving dog.
“No.” I watch as the fake smile falls from her lips, she huffs as she stomps off through the crowd, and I continue back up the steps to my shower.
Slamming the door shut behind me, I click the lockbefore getting undressed. I toss the soiled clothes into the laundry basket across the room. Our cleaning lady will have a field day scrubbing those blood stains out tomorrow.
2
KELSEY
Jessie picked me up at nine on the dot in her brand new BMW. I can only assume her family is rich. Not only does she drive luxury vehicles, but she also wears the finest clothing. She has a Versace bathing suit that I envy, but when I looked it up, it was almost five hundred dollars! Maybe I should ask what her parents do for a living and change my college path to whatever that is. Hell, my car is a vintage Toyota Camry that is hanging on by a thread. It sounds like coins tumbling in a dryer every time I start her up.
After blaring our favorite songs by Three Days Grace for the past twenty minutes, we finally pull into a mile-long driveway. “This is your house?” My eyes widen as we pull up to a two-story palace.
“Yep!”
This is what I imagine celebrities live in. Solar lights wrap the building, casting a warm glow across the Victorianbrick walls. She drives us around the side of the house to park off in the grass area. From here, I can see an outdoor concrete patio and fire pit with shade sail canopies and a massive pool with a waterfall further back. Her house is incredible.
Cars line the driveway and are parked all over the yard. The music is loud enough to be heard outside of the house, or maybe they’re playing it out by the pool, too. Regardless, the place is booming. I wasn’t aware of the pool, so I didn’t plan for that. Hopefully, Jessie has a swimsuit I can borrow if she plans on getting in.
“Who all is here?” I had a feeling this party would have many more attendees than the little bonfire, but this seems excessive. My palms sweat thinking about being in a crowd like this. Maybe I should have invitedhimto at least give me something else to worry about instead. I have terrible social anxiety.
“Most of these people are my brother’s friends. They all race in Hickory some days through the week.” She answers.
“Oh. I thought it was just freshmen.” I look at her, confused. “Do they all race?”
“I invited everyone to celebrate the end of the year, and most of them do.”
Jessie’s expressed how big of an ass her brother is, so for him to have this many friends is hard to believe. I mean, the place is loaded with people. She mentioned racing, so is he into NASCAR? I mean, North Carolina is known for NASCAR, and I know of plenty of celebrity racers that reside here.
Considering Jessie and I have only recently met at college orientation, we don’t know too much about each other. Thinking back on past conversations, I’m certain she knows more about my upbringing than I know of hers. Now that I think about it, she’s only given clipped responses when I’ve tried delving deeper into her life. I’m nosey, so I can’t help but ask questions.
