Thrills

Two ~ Jimmy Choos

Mavie

It took three phone calls from my father, two bank fund exchanges, and one promise that my father would fuck Mrs.Secretary before my release was granted without a trace that I was ever even in custody. And when I was, Cohen, Banks, and Rowan made sure to circle around me as we left, the paparazzi not able to grab the photo op they so desperately wanted.

Of course, there was still the minor issue of Adam and all the very threatening phone calls his father was leaving my father. It was just like Adam to not deal with his issues on his own. It's sad really, if it wasn't for his decent enough looks and his incredibly influential daddy, he'd be a nobody in a world full of somebodies.

He wouldn't ever of had me, either. That's for sure. A small part of me is wishing he would have been a nobody. It would've possibly made my life all the more easy.

Banks held the passenger door of his BMW open for me while Cohen and Rowan stood guard. My knights, my saviors. What ever would I do without my brother and his two very, sometimes overly, loyal and protective friends.

I would've had to call my father to come and bail me out, and he would have been much more upset in person than he sounded over the phone. He's easy to deal with when I know he's miles away, but in person? I would have probably broke down in tears and begged for his forgiveness.

My father; the only man in existence who has, and will ever, make me cry and be around long enough to witness the tears falling.

Once the three of them gathered into the car, Banks took off speeding down the road, quick to get away from the paparazzi, and made his way to the highway. I pulled down the visor, opened the mirror, and examined my face.

The hours in the cell did a number on me. Though, to an average eye it wouldn't have been noticeable. I opened the glovebox and pulled out a small makeup bag I keep in Banks' car in case of emergency's and began fixing up my makeup.

Rowan scoffed.

Silently, and slowly, once I was finished I put the bag back and closed the visor and glovebox. Turning in my seat so I could face both Cohen and Rowan, - but mainly Rowan - I ignored Banks grunt of disapproval at my unsafe positioning and glared at Rowan's very pleased smirk.

"Is something funny to you?" I asked in my fake "I'm talking to someone of such high importance that I need to speak with the upmost respect" voice. The one my father was sure to train me in and one that I knew would get under Rowan's skin. He hates fake façades.

Rowan his his annoyance easily. "Yes, actually. Your dumbass just got yourself locked in jail and cost your father an incredible amount of money - more than needed for someone like you to deserve to be let out - and all you can care about is your appearance? I mean, really, how shallow can you be?"

"Rowan-" Banks started, but I quickly cut him off with a raise of my hands.

"No, no. It's okay, Banks. Little men have to get their anger out sometimes." I smiled sincerely at Rowan. "Look, I get it, okay? You have to keep up this big 'bad boy' persona to hide the fact that you're really just some puny, sensitive boy whose daddy never loved him enough to show him what it means to be a man. But if you don't want to continue living a life where women only throw themself at you because you have money and the only true affection you've ever received was from the maid hired to clean your filthy clothes, then I suggest you get a life and stop worrying about mine."

There was a moment of silence before Rowan began speaking without a second to think of the consequences. "I appreciate the thought, really, but the last thing I would ever do is take advice from a rich, spoiled daddy's girl whose only problem in life is whether she should wear Gucci or Prada and whose boyfriend cheated on her at the earliest opportunity he had."