Page 27 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
Sampson and Hendrick’s security peeled off the walls, and now I’d seen them, I didn’t think I could unsee them. The illusion of privacy was gone. By the time we got back out the front door, I was once again wrapped in the anti-flash jacket, and the car was idling by the curb in front of the club. They ushered me in first, with Otto sliding in after me. Sampson and Hendrick followed last, sitting opposite us.
The silence was tense, and I could feel the weight of unuttered words sitting heavily between us. Sampson handed me the bottle of vodka and I tipped it back, taking a gulp of smooth alcohol that didn’t burn until it reached my gut.
It was a nice burn though. At this rate, I was going to get used to the finer things, and my plummet back to reality would be a painful bitch.
I didn’t care. It had already been established that I liked the way it hurt.
Chapter15
Hendrick
Iwas curled around Otto’s back, but his shoulders were tense. Sampson’s spare room was still dark, but the gray light of breaking dawn cast the room in a washed out light. I kissed his shoulder, and he sighed.
“Otto, what’s wrong? I missed you.”
“Not to sound like a whiny bitch, but you couldn’t have missed me too badly since you fucked Destinee the first chance you got.”
I rolled onto my back. “Wait, are you jealous?”
Otto rolled over, narrowing his eyes at me. “No. I know we aren’t like that. But she’s trash, Drix. We both know it, and if you’re going to stick your dick in trash, I’d rather it didn’t go in me straight afterwards.”
I mean, I could see his point, but… “Technically, you hadyourdick inme.”
Otto let out a frustrated noise and stood, uncurling his naked body. I knew it as well as my own. He’d been my best friend forever, and when I’d realized I was bisexual at fifteen, he’d once again stepped up to be what I needed. Sometimes I worried he wasn’t even attracted to me, but addicted to saving me.
If he was guilt-fucking me, he did it well. I was too selfish to question it. I needed Otto like I needed oxygen; I wasn’t sure how I’d survive without him. “Come on, man. Lie back down.”
He paused, the waistband of his sweats just sitting below his ass. I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t put on any underwear. “You can’t take anything seriously, Drix. You’re like a wrecking ball.”
I frowned this time. “Is this about Viva finding out about us? Viva is cool, and if I’m not wrong, a little intrigued by the idea. I think eventually, we could get her to join us.”
Interest flared in Otto’s eyes, but it was quickly squashed. “I’m also not a gimmick for you to lure unsuspecting girls into your bed.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I love you, Drix. But we are too old for this half-measure bullshit. I want a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, and not to be a fucktoy with feelings who just makes sure you don’t do stupid shit like jump off a goddamn bridge.” He stormed out of the room, and I watched him go, shocked.
Jesus, I hadn’t seen that coming. I mean, for years we’d worked—I’d see other people, Otto would see other people, and if we were single, we’d see each other. It was the perfect system, and I thought we were both happy with it.
Apparently, I was wrong. I crawled from the bed, feeling the hangover this morning thumping in my temples. I wouldn’t go back to sleep now, not until I was so tired that I’d sleep through most of the international flight. I slid on my own sweats—one of the new pairs I’d bought yesterday—and slipped into the main living room.
Sampson was awake, sipping coffee and watching the news report, like he was sixty-five and not twenty-four. He raised an eyebrow at me. “You fucked up? Otto just stormed through to the bathroom like someone told him that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real.”
I shrugged. “I think he wants commitment. Not sure with who though.”
Sampson snorted. “You guys have been fucking for seven years, Drix. It’s time to either jump out of the closet or let the poor guy move on to some nice girl who’ll suck his dick on Sunday mornings, someone who he can dote on like she’s his sun and moon. Can’t all be just for you.”
Fuck, was that what Otto really wanted? Domestic bliss? I couldn’t give him that. I could provide him with a media storm, radical condemnation, my dad ruining his life. Nowhere in our future was a happily ever after—not for me, or Otto, or even Sampson. We were all victims of circumstance.
“He likes her, you know.”
I dragged my eyes away from the scrolling stock market numbers on the TV. “What?”
Sampson muted the sound and turned to me. “Otto. He likes Aviva. She’s like you, but safer. They’d probably be happy together. He’d smother her with love and she’d soak it up like an empty sponge. You should let him have her.”
I frowned, my gut twisting painfully at the thought of Otto and Aviva together, but I couldn’t point out which part of the equation hurt the most. Losing Otto, or the idea of Aviva being off limits. No, I did know which one hurt the most, but I was surprisingly uncomfortable with giving up chasing Viva as well.
I slid my gaze back to Sampson. “Don’t fuck with me, Sam. I’ve seen how you look at her too. You want to dirty her up just as much as I do.”
He shrugged, not denying it. “True. But I’d give that up for Otto.”
I turned back to the TV, staring at it sightlessly as I thought about his words. I’d give Otto anything he wanted. He could have my whole damn fortune, my kidney, whatever the hell he asked for. Because the idea of losing Otto hurt more than I’d ever imagined.
