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“So, which is it, Killian?” Her voice is gentle, but her words are jagged. “Am I ignoring you, or am I hostile toward you?”

“I don’t fucking know, baby, you tell me.”

She dismisses me, repeating her cute little sidestep, only I meet her again, and she slams into my chest again.

“What’d I fucking do?”

She scowls at me. “What’s the matter? Don’t like it when a girl doesn’t fall to her knees with your presence?”

I chuckle, allowing her through, but turning around to throw one more attack out. “I’ll have you on your knees soon enough.”

She stills and then continues to the stage.

“Do you have to antagonize her? Just put her in the basket of Girls Killian Can’t Fuck. I’m sure she’ll be happy being the only one in there.” Keaton nudges, handing me my bandana.

I tie it around my mouth, watching as she stretches and warms up her body. “Fuck that,” I answer. “It’s not even like that. Hell, she can hate me all she wants, but I want to fucking know why.”

“Maybe she doesn’t hate you?” Maya states, coming up behind Keaton. “Maybe she just doesn’t want you, Kill.”

I gape at her. “Everyone wants me.”

Maya snorts. “I don’t. Anymore.”

“Ouch!” I grasp my chest. “I’m hurt, boo. I’m hurt.”

“No one can hurt you…” Maya says. Her expression falls before she quickly recollects herself and squares her shoulders. I feel bad, and that’s saying something. I don’t feel anything—for anyone. I can’t help it, it’s who I am, how I was raised. My mom and dad only cared about one thing, and that was The Brotherhood. My mom didn’t care to raise me with giving a fuck about something so mundane and human like feelings, and my dad gave too much of a fuck about other shit. Civilian shit. As a result from the confusing parenting, I got my dick wet—and I did it often—and I let them go. That’s how it was and how it always will be. But Maya, Maya was different. She and I have been inseparable since we were born. Our parents used to put us into the same crib to sleep beside each other when one didn’t settle, and we would go to sleep right away. I’m a couple years older than her, so Maya always said that I was probably low-key strangling her to sleep. She’s evil as fuck for thinking that low of me. Maya means more to me than my pride, or any of that.

“Maya…” I whisper sadly. The last fucking thing I ever wanted to do was hurt her, but it was never something I felt toward her. I’d die for Maya in a heartbeat and kill anyone that crosses her, but those feelings ran through the same veins that the feelings I had toward my brothers did.

She shakes her head, her unruly curls falling over her shoulder and her green eyes coming up to meet mine. “It’s fine, Kill. Stop making a deal out of it.” She disappears, jumping onto the stage as if we didn’t just talk about the one thing she and I have basically been avoiding since the big blow up on New Year’s Eve…

New Year’s Eve

Two months ago

When I was sixteen, I lost my virginity to my best friend. Now, there are many reasons why you should never do this, one being the dynamic between you and said best friend will never be the same, but my main reason as to why this was a bad idea, is that when you’re friends with someone, you already have harnessed feelings for them. There are already seeds of friendship that are sowed inside of you, inside of them. You’re supposed to water those seeds with laughs and platonic banter, not with cum and sweat.

Anyway, I think you get my point.

When I was sixteen, I fucked Maya Patrova. It was a mutual decision, a mess really. We sort of decided, “Well, fuck it. Let’s get this over with so we can move on.” Move on I did, move on she did not.

I love Maya, but at the risk of sounding like a complete fucking cliché, I was not in love with her.

I tipped back my whiskey, the fire burning angry enough to match the rage inside of me and the flames licking through the dark opaque sky like a weapon of mass destruction.

My eyes stay on Maya, hers on me.

I’ve known about this crush for a while. It was hard to not know when I knew all too well the puppy dog eyes she gave on a regular.

“What’s the matter, May?” I hissed, my lips spreading around my teeth.

“Nothing, Kill. Why?” she snapped, mocking my tone.

I drag my focus away from her. If I had led her on, I would feel bad. But I hadn’t. Sure, I always took her side in everything, and yeah, fuck, okay, so she was my fifth in the triple wheel, but as far as I was concerned, it was mutual and completely platonic.


Tags: Amo Jones Midnight Mayhem Erotic