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After I’m inside the Uber, I call Damon to see where he is. There’s music playing, so I know he’s already there. “Be there soon!” I yell into the phone. When he answers in the affirmative, I hang up.
It’s been a while since I’ve been out. I think the last time was on my twenty-first birthday, just so I could legally buy a drink at the bar. I went with a few classmates that I only moderately liked. Not with a friend like Damon, who I actually love, even though we’ve only known each other for a short while.
Being out with him tonight is exactly what I need to get my mind off my angry, hot as fuck housemate. Savage has been on my mind heavy for the past month. After what he did to me in his office … I want more. I wish I knew how to ask for it, but he’s just so mean all the time. I don’t want to beg him to fuck me if he can’t even be nice to me.
Even though I want it more than my next breath. Well, maybe notthatbadly. But I want him to touch me, taste me, kiss me, fuck me. All of it. I just don’t know if he wants to give any of that to me.
When the Uber pulls up in front of the club, I clear the thoughts from my head and hop out. I give the driver five stars since he didn’t talk to me and strut to the front of the club. Damon told me one of his stepbrother’s friends works here and would get me in. I give the bouncer Damon’s name and he waves me in, much to the upset of those waiting in line on this brisk night.
Almost immediately, I spot Damon over at the bar, dressed like … “Are you a fucking minion?” I yell in his ear, making him jump, then he turns to give me a quick hug.
Releasing me, he puts a hand is on his hip and strikes a pose. He’s not like me, sexy and showing off as much skin as the outfit will allow. He’s really dressed like a minion, with the oversized overalls, yellow shirt, and goggles, which are hanging around his neck since he has his glasses on. Damon spins around, making me laugh. “I am. I like to stand out.” He yells over at me.
“Really?” Now that I think about it, Damon doesn’t dress like me at all. Not that he has to, of course. None of his clothes hug his body. Maybe some of his long sleeve shirts, but his jeans are always loose, but not baggy. More fitted. And his shirts are usually a size too big, like he doesn’t want anyone to notice him. So, I guess the minion outfit is more his style.
He gives me a long look, then steps to my ear. “I’m not confident enough to wear something like that. But you look amazing.”
“Thank you. And you don’t make a bad minion.”
Laughing at me, he points to the dance floor. “Come on, I love this song!”
I kick one of my heels up and tilt my foot down. “These shoes are not made for comfort, so we can’t dance for long.”
Damon rolls his eyes and pulls me onto the dance floor. We dance to a few songs, laughing and grinding to the music. We talk as much as we can and avoid dancing with other people, preferring to keep to ourselves.
It gets hot really fast, and this cardigan is not forgiving of sweat. After a few songs, I shout in Damon’s ear that I’m going to get something to drink and make my way to the bar. Before I make it there, my phone vibrates against my hip where I tucked it into my leggings. My heart leaps in my throat and I look down at it, afraid that it’s Savage. I’m hoping he’ll be out late and I’ll be back before he gets back home. If not, I’ll blow him to get myself out of trouble. Not sure if that’ll work, but it’s worth a try.
But it’s not Savage, it’s my brother. Tucking my phone to my chest, I push through a side exit into an alley to speak to him. I’ve spoken to Cris a few times since I’ve been at Savage’s, only because I call and check on him. He hasn’t even sent me so much as a text to see how I am. And when I call him, he’s short, rushing me off the phone after he tells me he’s fine.
This is the first time he’s called me in forever. I really don’t know what he would want with me. Cris and I don’t talk. Well, he doesn’t talk tome. I try and he never wants to, so I keep the conversations with him short, too. I get a little happy flutter in my heart that he’s calling me.
When I get to a quieter section of the alley, I pick up the phone before it rolls over to voicemail. “Hey, Cris,” I say, a smile on my face.
“Abel, I need a favor.”
The blow to my feelings isn’t a surprise, but I still hate it. He has a way of hurting me without doing much. He’s not calling me because he wants to speak to me and is worried about his little brother. He needs something, and he probably only called me as a last resort.
I shake my head and lean against the wall, my head down and one foot resting on the wall. These heels really aren’t made for comfort. My feet hurt a bit and my baby toe on the left foot is pinching. They look fantastic on me, though.
Sighing heavily, I adjust the phone. “What do you need, Cris?”
“Rent money. I haven’t gotten any jobs lately.”
“Cris, are you forgetting that I don’t work? This internship is unpaid, remember?”
He snarls on the other end, making me pull the phone from my ear. “Ask that rich fuck you’re working for. Some way, get me the money. I don’t care if you have to blow him. Find a way.” I want to laugh at how close he is to what I’m already doing in exchange for his life. “You owe me.”
Why do I owe him for taking care of me? Are other older siblings like this? How hard can it be for him to be decent to me for once? I’ll always be in his debt for him keeping a roof over my head, something that any other older brother wouldn’t mind doing.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll ask. I can’t make any promises, though.”
“I want the money tomorrow, Abel. Or I’m going to call the cops on his ass. You’re not going to be there for some unpaid bullshit. I told that guy you needed money. If you want to stay there without the police at his door, get me the money.” No, I don’t need money. Though it wasn’t part of our agreement, Savage pays my cell phone bill and my car insurance. I want for nothing, and I still do side gigs to have a small amount of spending money if I need it.
Shaking my head again, I push off the wall to walk back inside. “Okay. I’ll call you when I have it.” I hang up before he can say more to hurt my feelings.
It’s just like Cris to pretend that it’s not his fault that I’m in this situation. Had he listened to me when I asked him to stay home, I wouldn’t be in the debt of some hot fucking guy that wants head a few times a month in exchange for Cris’s freedom. I know I’m the one that stated the terms and agreed to what he said, but still. If Cris had listened, I would be at home, curled up on our sorta uncomfortable couch, watching sappy movies on my laptop while he was out doing whatever he does.
So deep in my thoughts about why Cris is the way he is, I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking and I run headfirst into a massive chest. I bounce off and raise my head, meeting the eyes of the man who blocked my path. He’s burly, with a receding hairline and doughy cheeks. Behind him are two other men built similarly. Nervous, I try to sidestep him and say, “Excuse me.”
