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I recommend you call of this date before someone gets hurt.
I don’t know who this is, but this isn’t funny
It’s not supposed to be funny, mi reina.
Her Uber pulls to the curb, and I drive past, parking a few vehicles up the road. The moment I park, I adjust the mirror to watch her. An angry growl rattles from me as I watch him place his hands and lips on her. My fingers immediately key my displeasure into my phone.
His lips don’t deserve to touch an inch of your perfect skin.
Make sure he knows it doesn’t happen again.
Climbing from my car, I slam the door and pull on a baseball cap before following the two of them inside. After seeing where they are seated, I opt to take a seat at the bar with a good vantage point of them.
Her boredom is written across her face throughout their dinner, and it is apparent that her attention is on me. I watch her eyes repeatedly dart to the phone lying on the table, waiting to hear more from me.
Mi reina, so needy for me.
Likely fueled with courage from his mini-margaritas, Kyle leans closer and places his hand on her thigh. Rage floods me, and I feel as though my blood is on fire.
Tell him to get his fucking hand off your thigh.
Alexys reads my text and her eyes dart around the restaurant looking for the sender. Fixing my attention to the television above the bar, I ensure she can’t see my face. When I do look back at them, she has placed the phone on the table and has allowed him to creep his hand further up her thigh.
Up my thigh…
If he doesn’t remove his hand, I intend to remove it from his fucking arm.
I can feel the skin of my face heating with my rage as she drops her phone into her purse as a message pops up on my phone.
Okay tough guy, I’ve had enough of this.
No, I’ve had enough of this.
Kyle stands from the table, and I realize this is my opportunity to take care of this problem. I follow him toward the restroom and walk inside immediately behind him. Gripping his shirt, I throw him against the closing door and promptly pin him to it. My forearm is pressed against his throat, and I eagerly watch as his face reddens from his lack of oxygen.
“Take my wallet,” he struggles to push out the words as he urinates on himself.
“I don’t want your fucking money,” I snarl. “I think I was pretty fucking clear you weren’t to see Alexys again.”
“That was serious,” he cries as his skins begins to show a slight bluish hue.
“Do my messages seem fucking serious now?” I lean harder into him further cutting off his ability to breathe, “I also think I was pretty fucking clear what would happen if you didn’t heed my warnings.”
His body fights unconsciousness, and his mouth gapes trying to suck in air. But it’s the wideness of his eyes when his foggy brain realizes his fate that truly excites me. His eyelids flutter as he can no longer fight the looming darkness. As his body goes lax, my forearm the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground.
Taking the hat off my head, I slip it onto his and tousle my hair. I pull his arm around my shoulder and wrap mine around his waist before pulling open the bathroom door. Taking a quick glance toward the restaurant, I carry his limp body to the kitchen.
“Hey!” A guy shouts from the grill. “You can’t be back here!”
“My friend had too much to drink,” I nod my head to the unconscious Kyle slumped against me. “Our boss is out there, and I really don’t want him to get fired over this. Just let me out the back and I’ll get him out of here.”
“We’ve all been there,” he smirks. Not only does he lead me to the back door, he helps me get Kyle to my car parked around front.
Sometimes this shit is too fucking easy.
I pull out my phone, call for a cab, and send a quick text before driving to a desolate part of the city to rid myself of the issue sitting in my passenger seat.
eight
