Page 122 of Chaos Kills

Bay fucking Astor.

After a while, I’ll have to be fine, right? To where I won’t have to rely on recreational drugs to rid myself of the gaping hole inmy heart that currently resides in my chest when I’m not high and drunk off my ass.

I can’t feel it now, but it once was there. However, the last line I did has me restless as fuck.

I’ve been sitting on his couch for the last million years with nothing to do until Matteo pointed at me, and the brunette came over.

Veronica?

Vicky?

I don’t remember her name, but I do remember Matteo popping off with some threats that I didn’t hear because that’s how insignificant they are. All I can think about is where I’m going to get my next high and where the fuck those two blondes went.

However, right here and now, I have a hundred things running through my brain on what I could do with my hands while Bay is in my sights.

Matteo called her here on some bullshit that has to do with me, but he won’t kill me. De Leon might be a lot of chosen adjectives that I’ll let Torin project out all day, but my death also comes with his murder.

He knows that.

I know that.

My brothers will figure it out. If I die, oh well. For all my sins, it’d be about time.

Yet, as fate would have it, Torin already shot two guys in the back of the head when he snuck in here. All James Bond and bullshit.

I rolled my eyes.

He even brought a silencer and three dudes from the Forsaken Crew with him. Nonetheless, I found Matteo’s weakness, and it’s one we all share.

Bay.

The stupid idiot didn’t even notice the increase in volume when Torin slid in with our guys. His two guys did, but pop, pop.

And down they went.

The whole place is probably surrounded by our crew while Matteo is muttering shit I don’t even care to eavesdrop on.

It wouldn’t matter what he said anyway.

Something about Bay and him going off somewhere, which—as much as I hate saying this—Bay isn’t down for his dick.

I wish she were because it would mean I could write her off with another reason on how shady she is.

But, alas, she looks like she’s about to vomit on her white crop top.

And, fuck me, her short shorts that outline every single one of those luscious curves should be illegal.

She should be locked the hell up for walking around like she does and taking what she wants with zero fucks. She shattered my heart into a million pieces, and she gets to walk around scot-free.

And while I still feel something for her, it’s more on the edge of revenge and petty than anything else. Whatever used to live for her is now gone and dead. It’ll never be resurrected.

However, I can’t deny the fact my body still wants her.

My brain will get over it. But in this moment, the once Superman wave of energy I once had, surges into something more.

It’s adrenaline and lust.

“Funny, you should say that, De Leon,” Torin muses with an arrogant smirk I’ve seen way too many times. “Because I was thinkin’ the same thing with my girl.”

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