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I kick the door open, ignoring the beeping alarm, and toss Elliot next to the garbage bin like a bag of trash. He scrambles to his feet, taking off into the night like a frightened deer.
After ensuring that he’s not coming back, I return inside and switch off the alarm. Part of me regrets making that girl leave, especially after I look around and reassess the girls that are still here.
All the same, all preoccupied with taking photos with their blacked-out besties.
I sit down in a more secluded area on one of the couches, thinking about how I’d just fucked that girl after knowing her for less than ten minutes. Even though I can get women easily, I usually make them work a little harder for it. This time, I was just as tempted as she was.
I have to admit, it’s easy to feel conflicted about her even though she was just a fuck for the night. Her boyfriend is an absolute moron with no backbone. What kind of man cheats on a woman that beautiful?
The problem isn’t that idiots like him exist. It’s that shechosethe idiot. If I let him out of here alive, would she choose him again? Furthermore, is she even worth thinking about in any capacity if this is the kind of company that she keeps?
I guess it’s not fair of me to make such assumptions about her. After all, I’ve only opened this club to make my money laundering tasks easier and more efficient. I’m the bad guy, as much as I hate to admit it.
I swing back a couple of shots, fumbling for a cigarette as I watch the club return to its normal ebb and flow.
Every now and then, I see a new face walk in, and after an hour, I recognize one of the faces as a girl that I’d had relations with.
My previous flings always walk the same way when they notice me, shoulders down and head high as if I’ve invaded their territory. She’ll pretend to ignore me all night as if I don’t know why she’s here. She’ll probably dance on her new man all night, and he’ll have no idea that she and I were ever involved.
It gets so old so fast. She wants to show me howover meshe is, and I hardly care.
I just know that she likely waited all day for this moment, putting on her highest heels and her darkest lipstick to make me jealous. She probably practiced her whole night in her head while she was getting ready, trying to calm her nerves. The poor guy she’s dragged here probably thinks it’s the best night of his life, finally being asked out by a hot girl after years of rejection.
But the truth is, she wants me to take her from him.
Maybe on a different day, I’d be more interested. Right now, though, I can’t get that other girl out of my head. The way that she moved, the way she wanted to kiss me even after we both came.
She’s different, and I can't shake her green eyes from my memory.
Another shot. Another cigarette.
And those eyes are still in my head.
I don’t care about anyone else here. I want her again.
Ineedher again.
5
Delilah
Sunlight streams through the window, falling across my face and providing an unpleasantly early awakening considering the time I went to sleep. My head pounds as I try to lift myself up, and my wrist buckles under my weight.
That was from the punch.
I groan. Pieces are coming back to me now. It’s sore and bruised from when I hit Elliot. The rest of the night is such a blur that I can hardly explain how I got home at all.
The only thing I remember in detail was when Akim fucked me. That asshole. He took advantage of me because I was furious about Elliot. I hadn’t been drinking at that point, but I was already making horrible decisions.
And yet, I loved every second of it.
I sit in my bed for a moment reliving it, minute by minute. He was so rough with me, like he really wanted to take control. Elliot was always such a selfish pussy during sex, so it was a nice change of pace.
I slowly ease myself out of bed, feeling the cold hardwood floors on my bare feet as the draft from the window blows into my room. I reach for a sweatshirt draped over the bedside table, realizing that I’m still wearing the dress from the night before.
Before I’m even out of my bedroom, I freeze. Did Regan make it home? I don’t remember anything about last night past hooking up with Akim. I check my phone, and it’s dead. How didn’t I realize that? She could be hacked to pieces in a ditch by now.
I rush to her bedroom, and thankfully she’s lying there, dead to the world, in the same outfit she went out in. She didn’t even bother taking her makeup off, and her red lipstick is smeared a bit onto her pillow.
