I looked down at myself then because it was true. My fists clenched and unclenched uselessly, thighs tight as a spring. And sure enough, beads of sweat had sprung out on my forehead, making me into a glistening mess. What the fuck, how did Abby do this to me? I was gonna beat her ass when I found that chickadee, force my dick in hard up that backside.
But that was the thing. She was gone, I’d sent her away myself, ordered the handlers to ship her out. She was one and done banished, gone from the Club forever, and it was me who was suffering. Most times when a woman leaves, the guy is relieved, an intense source of stress gone. But instead, the opposite had happened. I was jittery mess, a junkie on amphetamines, unable to grapple with real life.
“Naw, no drugs,” I grunted, taking another swig of bourbon. “Just the alcohol.”
Xander shook his head.
“Well whatever it is, clearly that girl’s gotten under your skin. Where is she now?” he asked curiously.
I shrugged.
“Gone back to her old life,”
The words were like daggers in my throat, hard to even say
“So you gonna see her again?” said Xander mildly. “You gonna invite her back to the club?”
I stared at him disbelievingly.
“That fucking brat screwed up my plans the first time,” I said slowly. “Did you not hear? She was a fucking lizard, going and getting herself auctioned off, and then fucking it all up.”
Xander shook his head again, like we were talking in circles.
“Yeah, but why does it matter?” he asked, brows raised. “Why the fuck does that matter?”
“Because I worked so hard to get her here!” I exploded then, slamming my drink down. “I fucking prepped her, I talked to that girl for days straight and brought her to the Billionaires Ball to get her some exposure. And instead, she fucks it up! That fucking bitch!” I raged.
Xander just shook his head again.
“Sorry, man, didn’t realize recruiting was that much work,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate it and all, but why the hell did you go to so much trouble? Why didn’t you just punch through that hymen and be done with it?”
I’d fucking had it then. This asshat was an idiot, he deserved to be expelled from the Club. I stood up, ready to go, but Xander said one more thing.
“We don’t care, there are so many girls everywhere,” he said, gesturing to the female servers, all of them succulent and nude for our pleasure. “Don’t say you did it for us. At least not for me,” he added like a smarmy asshole. “She’s not even my type.”
I was at his throat then, ready to choke and strangle the mofo, but Xander slid out of the way, standing up, straightening that elegantly-cut suit.
“Just saying,” he said. “I like skinny blondes and that girl wasn’t up my alley at all. If you wanna fuck up your own life, go ahead, but don’t blame it on the brotherhood. Don’t blame the Club, we never asked for that shit. It’s all in your head, mofo, all in your head, take a good look in the mirror before you start spewing like a bucket of shit.”
And with that, the tall man walked off, cool and confident, like nothing was wrong. But the same couldn’t be said of me, and I plunked back down in my chair, big frame stiff. Was Xander right? Had I been the one who’d fucked up? I’d spent the last week griping about this and that, heaving all the blame onto Abby, listing all the reasons why she was a dirty, conniving ho. But it didn’t matter. I still wanted the teen, and besides, was Xander right? Was it me all along? Was I the guy who’d completely screwed up, acting like a bull in a china shop? Had I completely fucked up what had the possibility to be good, or even great?
Suddenly, I realized what had to happen next. I needed to see Abby, to look into those brown eyes and confront the truth. Or maybe, I needed to do as Xander suggested and look into the mirror and confront my own truth. Because I put all the blame squarely on my baby girl, but when one finger points, there are four pointing back at you. And with a sense of dread, a crushing pressure on my chest, suddenly I knew that I’d been the one. I’d been the one who’d been unthinkingly careless, forcing her to do all sorts of things that she hated. The teen had given herself to me, open, innocent and inviting, and I’d been an asshat, convincing myself that it didn’t mean anything because of this misplaced allegiance to the brotherhood.
But that’s the thing. They didn’t care. The Club had plenty of girls, and while Abby was a fine specimen to be sure, there was more than enough female flesh to go around. Sure, it’s hard to source females, but our money and power will find it for us, it’s just a matter of time. Oh shit, oh shit. It was me, I was the fuck-up, and heart pounding, I stood, jittery like I’d just taken a hit. I had to get to Abby. I had to see her, to pull her close and claim her once more … if the girl wasn’t gone already.