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I kind of wondered if someone like Ares would be here, his namesake Wolf on the football field. I found out later people called him that because of how beast-like he operated on the field. The guy killed dudes, not literally but, yeah, he got work done.
I think I’d looked into him a little more than I would have liked back then, hard not to considering the number I’d done on his life. He’d been forced to sit out the rest of the season, and though his team had still gone to state and killed it, I could imagine it was hard watching from the sidelines.
Not to mention, what he did for you.
I hadn’t asked him to do what he had with that ref, him coming in on his white horse when I had shit handled. I’d been okay, and I hadn’t needed him.
Why did he have to go and do that?
I was haunted more by that day, what he’d done, more than I wanted to admit. And I hadn’t been lying to him before that taking those pictures hadn’t been malicious. It was simply my job, and what I felt about him and his actions regarding that ref were completely separate.
It had to be.
I chugged down my club soda, stamping the glass down on a random shelf outside the bathroom. After, I shouldered my way through the thick crowd, and so in my head, I slammed my face into what felt like solid rock. In fact, I hit so hard I jolted back and collided into a similar force behind me.
“Damn, girl. You wasted or something? Shit.” The deep words sounded behind me, lightly slurred, and I pivoted to find a guy with a drink in his hand. I followed it up to narrowed eyes, a stark green that flashed, then twitched on me. “The fuck you doing here, you life-wrecking bitch?”
Whiplash could only explain the response from me, and this guy transformed from slightly inebriated to suddenly on and sneering at me. My brow lifted. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, bitch.” He studied me up and down. “The fuck you doing here at my buddy’s frat?”
I didn’t know this guy—at all, and he might have been a semblance of attractive had he not barked at me. White, bottle-dyed locks swept every which way. The guy looked like an anime character but was seriously jacked. He shot down a heated look from almost a foot above me, and I backed up into the rock again.
“Yo, Wells, what’s…” started the rock behind me, a dude who got one look at me, then puffed up like he wasn’t already the size of a wall. He had cross earrings in both ears, the pair sharpened at the tips like swords. Between the two, they definitely looked like video game characters. This guy was a dusky brunette, but the size of this guy had him looking like the final boss on a video game I definitely wasn’t trying to play. Sapphire-colored eyes cut down harshly on me. He flashed his teeth. “You got some nerve rolling through here, you problematic bitch.”
Okay,whatwas with the bitch thing? I raised my hands. “Okay, you guys are obviously drunk.”
“He might be, but I’m fucking not.” The dark-haired guy gestured toward his friend with his beer bottle. “Now, I’ll ask again. Why in thefuckare you here at my frat?”
He was completely serious. They both were, and suddenly, these two were up on metogether.
The room was feeling too small for my liking.
There were others in this room, but these two were crowding me into a corner. I blinked. “Look. I don’t know who you two think I am, but I don’t know you.”
I think I’d remember, the dark brunette just as fuckboy hot as he friend. These two were bang them and leave them, one hundred percent, and that right away told me I didn’t know them. I didn’t mess around with players. Especially since guys who looked like that only tended to fuck with girls like me as a fetish. It wasn’t like I was considered busted, but I had curves, and guys like them? Let’s just say, they liked to get their rocks off with girls like me.
Or more liked to get their hands ontitsandassfrom girls like me.
Either way, I didn’t entertain it, and I definitely didn’t know these guys.
Blond dude, Wells his friend called him, hooked his arm around his friend. He was taller than the guy, more slender too. He grinned. “She thinks our memories fail us, bro.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that.” He gestured the neck of his bottle in my direction. “But it seems it’s not our memories that fail us.”
I blinked again. “What are you talking about?”
“Wow. You really fuck with people’s lives and don’t give a shit about it. What are you? A sociopath?” the dark-haired guy growled, and the next thing I knew, he took his beer bottle and threw it against the far wall. Glass exploded in the corner, several people fleeing, screaming, and my ears rang after my own shriek.
What the fuck?
“Everyone out of the room.Fucking now,” the dark-haired man-beast barked, and people literally jumped over couches to respond to this guy. Beside him, Wells did nothing but laugh… like manically. The bottle-dyed blond actually bounced up and down in gleeful delight, his tongue out like he couldn’t fucking wait for what this guy would do next. Right around then, I decided to curb around them both.
“Oh, not you, socio,” the large one, the frat boy, said. He got me by the arm, then proceeded to jerk me with so much force I thought he’d rip my arm out of my socket.
“What the f—”
My voice cut off when he slammed a hand to the wall behind me so hard a painting fell off thedamn wall. This really had Wells bouncing now, both these guys complete psychopaths.
