Chapter three
I Hate Rich Kids
“Shit!” I bolted up right and clasped my forehead was a trembling hand.
The night air began to cool my sweat soaked body. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that it was really. It was all in my head. Taking a few deep breathes, I grabbed my phone off my nightstand. 2:43 glowed on the screen when I turned it on.
Stepping out of bed, I stood and stumbled toward the bathroom, nearly falling over my shoes. I turned on the light and instantly regretted it as my head throbbed and my eyes burned. I turned on the sink and threw some water on my face. I rest my forehead on the counter, staring at the floor as I kept telling myself it wasn’t real.
“Oh god,” I muttered, sinking to the ground and leaning up against the wall. I wrapped my arm around still feeling his touch prickle my skin. Getting myself under control, I stood and staggered across my bedroom.
Going into the kitchen, I ripped open the door to my out of date refrigerator and grabbed one of the beer can I had stocked it with the day before. I wasted no time, opening it and chugging the contents. My body was still trembling as image floated around my head. I grabbed another can and tried to drink it in one go. The alcohol went down the wrong tube, and I ended up throwing most of it up in the trash. I dropped to my knees and gasped for air.
The tears came quickly, and I crumbled to the ground. Curling up in a ball, I began to sob. “I sorry, Jimmy. I’m so sorry.”
***
I called in sick to work after waking up still laying on the kitchen floor and went straight to Michael instead. I needed to drowned my memories out and returned to that numb state that kept me going everyday.
Another text message came in from Emma. I didn’t read it and decided to turn off my phone all together. Frank brought me over another drink as I laid my head on the counter.
“Rough night?”
“You could say that,” I replied, sitting up only long enough to take a drink.
“You should really see someone, ya know,” he suggested giving me a worried look. “It ain’t health living like that.”
I glared at him. “You’re lecturing a prostitute about being healthy. Seriously? Well sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not buying it.” I snatched my drink off the counter and went to sit in a corner booth. My life was a piece of shit wether it ended today or fifty years down the road I guess that for god to decided, because I could careless.
“You Bret.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a young man with a darker complexion standing behind me. I tuned to face him properly and gave him a look over. By the watch and high end clothing, I knew his type already. Rich kid. I hate them, plain and simple.
“Beat it, I don’t play game with kid like you.”
He gave me a cocky grin that really rub me the wrong way before sitting down. “I’m willing to pay.”
“Well of course you are, because I’m not free,” I said with a cocky grin of my own.
“How much?”
I leaned back in my seat. “For a price, anything you want.” I locked eyes with him but unfortunately I can tell this one was serious.
“Money not the issue here. Everyone here says your the guy to go to for a good time.”
YOU ARE READING
For A Price
General Fiction--700 Series, Book 2-- Brett has given up. With a string of bad relationship behind him, he came to the conclusion that he doesn't need anyone. He's made it this far by himself, and he plans to keep it that way from now on. He'll never be a...
