My life became an endless cycle of empty fucks with women who didn’t matter, alcohol to help sleep, and any blood I could find to shed.
I shake my head with a grunt and swipe the keys to my bike.
The Body Shop is the perfect escape from thoughts I’d rather not have.
My mind is blank as I shove my dick one last time into the woman moaning underneath me.I close my eyes so I don’t have to see her face as I shoot my release into the condom.
I roll off her and fall to my back, already regretting letting Laura talk her way into me fucking her.
The few minutes of pleasure is never worth the goddamn hassle when I kick them out of my bed.
There’s a fucking reason I don’t mix business with pleasure.Last night, she caught me in a weak moment with Birdie on my mind.All I wanted to do was forget how dreary my life is, and the quickest way to do that was burying myself in another woman’s cunt.
The body next to me stirs, and I quickly climb from the bed, wanting away from yet another mistake.
Pulling off the condom, I tie it before tossing it into the garbage can and lifting the can in my arms to flush it down the toilet.“You can go.”
“What?Really?”Laura whines.
I squeeze the bridge of my nose and close my eyes, searching for some sort of patience.It’s not her fault I don’t give a flying fuck about any of them.
“Look, babe, I don’t do this.I don’t do the post-coital bullshit.I don’t do pillow talk.I don’t do fucking any of it.I fuck and then I send you on your way.I warned you of that last night before you decided to follow me back here.You made your choice when you climbed in that bed.If you expected anything else, that’s a you problem.I want to fucking shower and wash you from my skin, so get your shit and get gone.”
My skin crawls, and each time the scent of sex breezes past my nostrils, the feeling intensifies.
She scoffs.“Wow.You really are the heartless asshole they say you are.”
Why the hell do they always act like bitches when it’s time to leave?As if I’m not upfront with them and like they were forced to do something they didn’t want.
Just imagining the bullshit I’m going to be dealing with at The Body Shop now has my lip curling in a snarl.Never should have fucked a dancer from there, especially not a new one who doesn’t know the rules.
I wave toward the door.“Why are you still here?Go.”
My body tenses as I watch her get dressed to make sure she pulls no shit.As she leaves, my bedroom door slams hard enough that it knocks over the picture of Birdie on my nightstand.With a growl, I lift it reverently and put it back in place before blowing out a breath and heading to the bathroom.
I stand under the scalding water, waiting for it to wash away the taint.No matter how much I scrub, how hot I get the water, the filth never goes away.
My desecrated body matches my foul soul.
After drying off, I pull my kutte over my shoulders as someone pounds on my door.My lip curls in frustration.I swing the door open, ready to light into someone’s ass, but Cyanide’s snow-hued face has me snapping straight.
“What the hell is going on?”I bark.
“I-I-It’s B-B-Birdie,” Cyanide gasps.
It takes a second for his stammered words to register.Pure, unadulterated terror pierces my blackened heart and my hand snaps out.My fingers clench around his throat as I push him against the wall.
“Fucking Birdie what?”I ask in a deadly tone, tightening my grip when he tries to push me away.
“She’s at the gate, beat to hell,” he croaks.
Thump.
Thump.Thump.
The heart I haven’t felt beat in so fucking long makes sluggish moves inside my chest.
I open my hand and drop Cyanide from my hold so I can take off at a sprint.
