Page 150 of I’m The Worst

The crowd loses their fucking minds instantly—yelling, whistling, chanting her name.

She tilts her head toward the crowd with a wicked little smile. “She sure is pretty, isn’t she?” she purrs into the microphone, dragging black-painted nails slowly down the Slut’s stomach. “But I think she could be prettier. Who wants to make her bleed for us?”

The crowd roars as performers pull men onto the stage. AJ leans in and snorts a thick line of coke off the Slut’s tits, then presses her mouth to the girl’s, forcing the drug into her with a filthy kiss.

My jaw locks down hard.

“Fuck,” I swear under my breath.

AJ pulls back and drags a razor blade slowly down the Slut’s stomach—shallow enough not to kill, deep enough to make her scream. Blood wells up in thin red lines. The men pulled onto the stage are already hard, stroking themselves as they watch.

“Give us a show, boys,” AJ says through a laugh.

They don’t hesitate.

Two of them step forward and start fucking the strapped Slut—one in her mouth, one in her cunt—while AJ walks the edge of the stage, eyes scanning the crowd.

They land on me.

Her smile falters for half a second before she disappears into the crowd.

I slam my glass down on the bar.

What the fuck is she doing?

Another drink burns down my throat as I watch the Slut get fucked on stage from the shadows. I don’t stop drinking until the stupid fucking ache behind my ribs dulls and the room stops spinning.

A couple of hours in and I’ve already done enough pretending to satisfy Command. I showed my face. Listened to spoiled little Sovereign heirs brag about kill counts they haven’t earned yet.

That should be enough.

My jacket hangs half off one shoulder as I grab another bottle from the private bar, turning toward the exit. The private section overlooking the club is worse now than when I first got here. Half the rookies are too fucked up to remember their own names. Across the lounge, Graves’s loud fucking laugh cuts through the noise again.

The bastard is shirtless against the wall, one massive hand fisting the hair of some rookie forced on his knees—head bobbing frantically, choking and gagging around Graves’s cock as he fucks his throat.

Movement catches my eye, a streak of long black hair disappearing behind a closing door while a Sovereign tosses the girl he was carrying onto a bed.

Every rational thought disappears.

I change direction.

The moment I push through the same door, my eyes adjust to the dim light of the private room. AJ’s completely naked, face down on the bed, passed the fuck out. A Sovereign is on top of her, grunting as he fucks her limp body.

“You can have her when I’m done,” he slurs.

Rage reddens my vision.

I cross the room in two strides, grab the bastard by the back of the neck, and rip him off her. He barely has time to yelp before I slam his face into the wall hard enough to shatter his cheekbone.

“What the fu⁠—”

His voice cuts off as my knife slices from his belly button straight up to his sternum in one vicious upward thrust. I twist the blade deep inside him, feeling it catch on ribs and organs, then yank it out.

Blood sprays across the wall and bed in a hot arc.

He drops to his knees, clutching his spilling guts, gurgling. I drive the knife into the side of his throat and rip it sideways, nearly decapitating him. His body convulses, then goes still, blood pooling fast beneath him.

AJ’s still unconscious, cum leaking from her pussy. I should have killed him fucking slower.