Maggie Norris and Luke Vaudest come with attitudes of stone-cold, rude, sarcastic snakes. Every single time the pair have clashed, it has never ended up being a good thing. The two are more than fine with never crossing paths, again.
Until Maggie d...
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"In most of mankind gratitude is merely a secret hope of further favors." — Francois de La Rochefoucauld ————————————————————
Chapter 2 <—————————————>
Luke
Psycho had many, many definitions.
Some choose to follow one, while select few rather follow the other. But, I had my own.
It was Maggie fucking Norris.
The woman was undeniably the apple in the devils' eye. I knew she said the same about me, probably in much more odious detail.
I didn't give a shit what the girl said about me though, but it irked me that she did a favor for me. If I could even call it that. Regardless, I didn't like the idea of her having anything over me.
You never do favors for people you think of with such revulsion, not without consequence, or without expecting something in return. I didn't want anything to do with the brat, so after I sealed off this deal, that would be it. The only very thin tie we would have is our best friends.
I stared at the building for a moment longer. So, this was where the little brat worked. Moarde's Automotive.
My lips curled into a grin as I thought of all the wreckage I could havoc in a matter of seconds, but I pushed it away. I didn't want to have anything that could link us any longer; I had better things to do than argue with some chick I fucked once upon a drunk ago.
At the reminder of her soft skin, I felt my jaw lock tight before I cursed myself. The wrong head had listened, too.
It was a natural reaction, I told myself. A chick with a pair of perfect tits, and a nice ass would turn on any man. Maggie just so happened to be one, too.
I gave myself a couple of extra minutes before I got out. I left the car running behind me, since I wouldn't be gone for too long. I didn't have to worry about it being taken, either. Everyone knew better than to fuck with the mayors' trophy golden boy.
It was a nice little shop, I'd give her that. Nothing like the one I planned to open, but I couldn't compare too much.
Once I grasped the cool handle, I stepped in, and observed over my surroundings. Bigger on the inside, for sure. The tiles were clean and spotless, and sitting on top were several shapes and designs of peeling chairs against the white walls. Since I was the only customer in-shop, I stepped ahead, immediately. There the little brat was.
I crossed my arms, a snarky grin sliding across my lips as I approached her. She hadn't even noticed me yet, much to my shock. She was too busy talking to a short, chubby faced man, who was staring directly at her tits.
