“I almost had to suck a cock or get caned because of you. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to make things right, Christos. I just want you to leave me alone. I’m going through some major fucking shit right now, and I don’t need this.” Stacia swipes her hands across her cheeks. “The best thing you can do for me is to disappear. I mean it.”
Fuck my life.
Something cracks inside me as my hope crumbles away as she takes another step back. I guess time doesn’t heal anything when you fucked up like I have. I was stupid and ambitious. I was a cocky son of a bitch. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can say now.
Tears blur my eyes, and I blink them away, refusing to cry in the meeting room. That’s the last thing I fucking need. This place reeks of toxic masculinity, and it’s enough to put me in my place.
I can drop to my knees though. I’m not afraid to grovel.
I clasp my hands together and crawl forward on my knees. “Stacia, please. I’m so fucking sorry. I regret everything I did. If I could go back and change things—”
“But you can’t. You should’ve done right by me from the start. I trusted you. I loved you. And what did you do? You ruined me.” Her voice cracks with her words. “Stop torturing me. Now go!”
Turning her back, she strides toward the closed door of the chamber room, where the King’s Court waits for her.
I watch her go. I don’t have a choice.
All of my efforts to try to fix things have failed.
I think I’ve lost Stacia forever.
The rosy light of the setting sun sobers my ass up enough from my anger to suck in a deep breath of air. Fuck the LA smog. It’s hard to clear my head when all I want to do is cough.
“Are you ready to move on, Christos?” Esteban leans against the black brick wall of the Looking Glass. Dozens of street performers fill the sidewalk as pedestrians stroll down Sunset Boulevard in search of entertainment. “We have shit to do. I can move past things if you can. It’ll be like it never happened.”
“Just never bring it up again.” I clench my jaw, trying to suppress the fact that it was only ten minutes ago that I had my best friend’s cock in my mouth. It wasn’t exactly the bonding experience I wanted. Sure, we’d joked about having threesomes with a chick, but it never included us together.
“Noted. But don’t hold that shit against me. That was all you’re doing.” Esteban pushes away from the wall and puts on a pair of sunglasses, stepping into the light.
“You shouldn’t have agreed. Stacia is mine. You know I’m in love with her.” Fucking asshole. I can’t stop thinking about how it could’ve been her on her knees.
“Stop being delusional. You were turning into a stalking creep, Christos. That’s not how you win her back. And you know what? I’m not going to deny her if she wants me. It would serve your ass right. Plus, she could use some fun after the bullshit of this morning.” Esteban rubs his chin, cracking his neck. “Notice my face? I got fucking sucker punched by the Executioner.”
I furrow my brow, in confusion, helping to suppress my anger at Esteban. “What the fuck did you do?”
“He accused me of murder. Apparently, Stacia woke up next to a dead fucker, and he turned out to be one of my new dealers. That’s why she’s still in there. There’s a huge fucking mess that needs to be cleaned up.”
What the hell is he talking about? Someone is dead? Holy fucking shit. Poor Stacia. I can’t imagine what the fuck she went through. How was she involved with one of his dealers?
“That’s not the worst of it. She was drugged.” Esteban glances over his shoulder, double checking to make sure no one tries to sneak up behind him. No one ever realizes that he’s a fucking drug lord, and runs an empire that His Majesty wants here. Because there’s nothing easier than manipulating the people he needs if they have drug addictions and other problems. It’s fucked up, but that’s the dark world we live in. Give or take, and I’m one who would rather take than end up thrown out on the streets. I earned my place in the Society of Secrets. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to, but in the end it’s better.
Except for this fucked up shit right now.
Without responding to Esteban, I spin on my heels and march to the back exit of the Looking Glass. I don’t care if Stacia demanded I leave her alone. I need to talk to her. I need to make sure she’s OK. I want to offer her my help.
“Christos, where are you going? I said we had shit to do,” Esteban calls from behind me.
“I need to check on Stacia.” I attempt to open the back door, but it automatically locks from the inside, preventing me from accessing the club this way. Fuck me. I’m going to have to run around front.
“Pinche cabrón, no. What you need to do is give her space. She’s meeting with the King’s Court, and if they want to call us, they will. We need to get shit up and running. I’m not going to face a consequence because of you.” Esteban grabs my shoulder, pulling me back.
I swing to punch him, but he expects it, and slams his fist into my gut. Bowing forward, I cough and spit as the air knocks from me.
“Don’t make this hard. You’re too obsessed and wrapped up in your emotions. Get your act together. Now. Let yourself cool off and then we’ll see about Stacia.” I hate that Esteban is right. He’s always been a critical thinker and someone who goes through everything before making a decision. He has saved my ass more than once.
And he’s right.
If I go running to Stacia now, I won’t accomplish anything. I’ll just piss her off even more.