Page 42 of Vow of Revenge
With every nudge and light kiss on my cheek, I scanned the guests looking for the little mouse. There were glances and shy smiles every time Freya matched my stare. My dick was on constant high alert, painful with the swell of need that strained in my boxers. Anger fused with lust. I wanted to tear her apart limb by limb, buried deep inside her. The urge to take my hand to her ass was overwhelming. How dare she silently call to me with that look in her eyes, like she was lost in a sea of guests, begging me to rescue her.
All I could see was her, and I was no fucking hero.
I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to find pleasure in being with Lynn, but I needed a release. There was something off about her, like the elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor, or she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Nonetheless, I’d hooked up with her a few days before the Gala so I could secure myself as her plus one. Believe it or not, I had a method to my madness. I know I could’ve, or should have, taken Freya home with me instead of the women wrapping my arm. However, I knew Freya would be driven wild with jealousy if I kept up the charade with Lynn. That little flare in her eyes gave away her secrets – she wanted me. It was all too perfect. I was the bad guy who would keep her on her toes. Walking her straight into the fire pit of purgatory as the ultimate sacrifice, for my final revenge.
I didn’t promise Lynn a fairy tale evening with romance and pleasant conversation. If she knew my history, then she’d know there was no way in hell I’d stick around. Let’s face it, how could I give myself to anyone when I didn’t really know who I was. There were blanks, wormholes, time blips – whatever the fuck they were called.
The counsellor told me I’d witnessed such a traumatic event that my mind blacked it out to protect me. Apparently, the flashbacks are clips of a shocking memory. One incident out of hundreds that I’ve conveniently stored away in a vault and thrown away the combination code.
The woman who murdered my father, robbed me of my past, my history and of my one true self.
I shrugged on my shirt, followed by my tux jacket. “The room is paid for. Order breakfast before you leave.” The smirk on my lips hid behind my arm as I reached up and raked through my messy lengths.
“You can have me for breakfast…” Lynn scrambled off the bed and crashed into my side, almost knocking me over.
“Nah. I’ll not be going back there again.” There was no point pretending I wanted more than a one-time fuck. Gripping a handful of hair, I angled her torso downwards. “This is for old time sake.” With a crack of my palm, I slapped her bare ass like lightening had scorched the earth. I wasn’t going to tell her that it was pay back for trying to hit Freya at the Gala. That was my little secret to keep. I swaggered to the door in the wake of her stunned silence and left.
Opening the door to darkness, I sighed with acceptance because I was all alone again. I found my phone on the dresser and quickly sent Syrah a text. She’d given her phone to Brett’s driver for safe keeping, so she’d get the message eventually.
I’m back home safe and sound. Hope you didn’t bump into Danny the dull. I did. He’s pissed at you. xox
After a few minutes, a welcomed reply lit up my phone screen.
Ugh! Can’t believe he went! Back at Brett’s now. See you tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed the Gala xox
I stripped off the fancy party dress and happily withdrew into my cosy black robe. Immediately I felt freedom wrap me in a cocoon of comfort. I was back where I belonged, in front of my laptop.
My head was a little hazy from the alcohol, nevertheless I tried to edit my current article on Irish fashion bloggers. The words didn’t seem to blend quite as well as they did when I wrote the stupid thing the day before, but then maybe I wasn’t fully focused. My thoughts drifted off to places in my head that shouldn’t exist. Secret areas that needed cordoned off with yellow tape, hidden from my consciousness. Kaleb was right in the middle of every single one.
On the right of my screen, an email notification popped up. I clicked it open.
Email: Kaleb De Courcy
Heading: Glimmer staff
Little Mouse,
I can see why you don’t like her. I wasn’t impressed with her efforts. Hopefully you don’t feel her wrath on Monday.
Kaleb
p.s. Don’t forget, practice makes perfect.
What the hell? How did he get my email address? How dare he contact me about that bitch, Lynn. Does that mean he had sex with her or not?
Email: Freya Beaumont
Heading: Do you think I care?
Mr. De Cocky,
I think you have mistaken my sexual act earlier as one that meant we were on speaking terms. You were merely a cock that I could practice on.
Hopefully you cracked Lynn in two and helped her find a nice person inside her bitch exterior.
Freya
I didn’t leave any open questions or ambiguity that warranted a reply. However, deep inside my false façade of coolness, I craved one. I waited patiently, hoping. I don’t know why, because he was an insufferable womaniser, and I was not prepared to fall for his sexy body or dangerous aura.
