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“You really are completely oblivious, aren’t you?” I peer down at her. “What I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me, was that was the best place in here to keep an eye on everything.”
“I literally invited you to hang out with us. Isn’t next to me the best possible option?”
It depends wholly on the reasoning, but without question, yes, absolutely.
June drags me the rest of the way to Cora, who’s frantically thumbing something on her phone. She angrily fingers a send button and slams the thing down on the table, looking up to greet us.
“Simon, how kind of you to grace us with your presence. I thought you were just going to lurk in the corner all night like a fucking psychopath.” Cora grins and teases me like I’m not the most dangerous man in the room.
“Aw, go easy on him, he was being attacked by a gold digger.” June pats my arm. “There, there, you’re safe now.”
I shake my head. “You’re something else, you know that, love?”
Cora rests her head on her hands. “What’s it like?” She stares at me and June.
“What, being a gold digger?” June climbs onto the stool she was sitting on earlier and pulls out the one next to it.
“Oh, hush, you’re practically a sugar baby.”
“Am not,” June protests. “I work!”
“Even misternot your boyfriend but is around more than your boyfriendspicks up your tab.”
June glares at me. “You did not.”
I shrug and take a look around from where we are. I don’t like not being to see everything, but at least I’m next to her if anythingwereto happen. It’s been six months and there hasn’t been a threat to her life, but one can never be too sure. The second you get complacent, that’s when shit happens. And with her, I cannot afford to take foolish risks.
Cora perks up. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No,” I tell her without explaining anything else. Because what would I say? That I’m assessing for threats to her best friend’s life? I don’t know what all June has told her, and I don’t think I’m the appropriate person to bring it up. I’m all for honesty, but those are not my secrets to confess.
“I thought maybe you had a friend coming.” Cora doesn’t question my lurking, and I’m grateful that she doesn’t pry into things I’m not able to discuss. “Do you have any single friends, Simon?”
“I don’t have any friends.” What I have is more like business acquaintances that I occasionally eat a meal or get a drink with. No one that I trust or would call for anything other than cleaning up dead bodies or handling professional matters. Truthfully, June is the only person I’d even consider a friend, but I’m not stupid enough to realize she wouldn’t have me in her life if I didn’t completely persist. What I feel for her is real, what she feels for me is strictly based on the habit of me always being around.
If I disappeared it wouldn’t take her long to get used to her life without me. I don’t doubt that she’d prefer it, especially with how much she lets me know she dislikes my company.
“Oh, that’s not true,” Cora says. “You’re a popular guy.”
I laugh dryly. “It’s not that.”
June hit the nail on the head earlier. The only reason that girl came up to me earlier is because she thought I was Simon Beckett. The notorious playboy who lives a lavish lifestyle of luxury. A fake fucking persona I accidentally created when I went through my rebellious phase and tried to fill the void in my life with booze, girls, and spending money. It didn't work, obviously, but that didn't stop people from craving what I could offer. I had more fake friends than I knew what to do with, and for a while, I thrived on the high of being the center of attention. But even with every bit of notoriety it gave me, I was still an empty fucking pit inside. Nothing could fix the emptiness and the more I took, the worse it made me feel.
And to top it off, that’s the lasting impression I have on every single person I interact with. They think I’m this fuckboy who doesn’t have feelings, who doesn’t care, who has no intelligence, but yet only cares about bottle service and boobs. Everyone underestimates me, and that was one of the main reasons I wanted to prove them wrong and win the throne that Dominic now holds.
Is he qualified for the position? Without a doubt.
But so fucking am I.
And it was just within my grasp until June came charging into our lives.
I could have had it. I could have had everything. I was prepared to use my power to eventually claim her, too, but when she was bleeding out in my arms, everything that I worked so fucking hard for felt impossibly unimportant. It was overwhelming, the flush of emotions that went through me. Rage. Agony. Terror.
I went from almost having it all to nothing and I didn’t know how to react other than to give her my word that I would concede as her dying wish. Because if I was going to lose everything, I wanted her final moments to be filled with the understanding that I would have chosen her. Her above the lifestyle, the money, the only thing I’ve ever really cared about.
I held my hand against her chest as her blood slipped through my fingertips, leaving with the only chance I'd ever have to prove to everyone that I wasn't the immature boy they thought I was.
I could have let her die. I could have pushed to have the council overthrow Dominic’s position. I could have convinced them he was distracted by a female and wouldn’t be fit for the job.
