Playing for keeps

25. Once you're in, you're in

K A L E B

Killian watches me discreetly throughout the meeting, and I watch him too, wondering if he's going to keep his mouth shut or not.

The only reason I know he hasn't told Damien yet is because, if he had, Damien probably would have already pulled his gun on me.

I'm not scared though, even if Easton tells me I should be. I have my own gun, and I can fight. Let them come at me.

I don't hear a word of what Damien is saying in this meeting, knowing it's going to be the same shit from the last two meetings; the attacks have gotten worse and we have no lead. 

Instead, I glance at my phone under the table, staring at the same text over and over, waiting for a response to it, but it never comes.

I managed to get Easton's number from one of our tech guys, biting the bullet and sending her a text this morning, which was hours ago.

It's a weekday, so she's in school. But she doesn't have five minutes to look at her phone? I bite back the irritation that's threatening to show.

She needs to reply soon, or I'm going to loose my shit.

Kaleb: Good morning. I dreamt of you.

My text stares back at me, at my attempt to try and be nice and honest, the type of person that doesn't say all that shit I said to her in her kitchen last week.

I felt bad as soon as I said them, but once again, my anger got the best of me. I still feel the rage now at the image of her and that boy. 

I wanted to kill him. I still want to kill him. But that is not an excuse for what I said to her. I'm just not the type of person to outright say I'm sorry.

No matter how hard I stare at the text, no reply pops up.

I think of sending another one, but she'll just ignore that too, even if I threaten her. She can be real stubborn to the point of making me want to claw my eyes out.

She's trying to spite me, and it's pissing me off.

The meeting ends soon after I turn my phone off and start to sulk. I'm the first one to leave, wanting to get the fuck out of the Rooster before someone tries to talk to me.

I'm nearly at the end of the hall before someone calls my name. I have half a mind to just ignore them, walk away, but knowing my dad, he'll follow me like a bad smell that you can't get rid of.

So I bite my tongue and turn around.

Marcus Reed is a tall man, the same height as me, 6'2, his muscles filling out his suit and his cropped salt and pepper hair styled perfectly. He's a scary and has an intimidating smile, smiling like a gentleman but is secretly a snake underneath. He'd do anything to get his way, and being raised by the man, you learn how to dodge his mind games and play your own.

He stopped picking on me physically when I got big enough to give it back to him and challenge him, opting for his little mind games that slithered through your brain and gripped every brain cell until a migraine took over.

"What?" I cross my arms, looking at him impatiently so he'll make this quick.

"Get rid of that attitude and start acting your age, Kaleb. This is business, not a playground, Son." He looks at me with distaste. "You've been distracted these past few weeks. Either you need to get your act together or fucking leave."

We both know that leaving is not an option. Leaving the Vipers is like committing suicide and he knows it. You can't leave. Once you're in, you're in. 

"Always a pleasant conversation, Father." I roll my eyes. "We done here?"

His jaw ticks, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he tries to not show that I'm irritating him. Whereas most dad's taught their six year old sons how to throw a ball or ride a bike, mine taught me how to not show emotion and how to take a beating without showing an ounce of emotion.

"No. We are not done," he bites out. "Whatever, or whoever, is distracting you, cut it off, Kaleb. I mean it."

Even as I try to have nothing to do with this man, he still tries to control me, like the puppet master he is. He thrives on controlling and manipulating people and taking things away from them. That's why my mother is still with him. That's why I moved out as soon as I turned eighteen.

Like hell is he going to take Easton away from me, but for her sake, he can never come into contact with her where I am involved. If she's just the Carter's little sister, he'll leave her alone without a second thought, but if he knows she's the one who's got me like this, distracted and ready to burn the city down because she didn't answer one measly text, he'll destroy it.

Instead of arguing, I continue on my way out of the Rooster and hope he doesn't start to dig around my business.

~

Easton: Don't.

As soon as the text came through as I was leaving the Rooster, a smile covered my face and I didn't think twice before deciding where to go.

She doesn't want me to dream of her? Well, too bad. Because she completely dominates my mind as of lately.

The text only contained one word, but it was enough to have me speeding through the city. 

I'm parked outside of Beverly Hills High School, leaning against my car, watching each student filter out of the doors as I look for a specific pair of hypnotising green eyes.

She finally emerges from the school with two other boys, one clutching her shoulders, the other laughing by her side as they all walk down the steps. Her eyes are lit up as she talks enthusiastically with them.

I can't help but trail my eyes over her, from head to toe as I take in how she wears her school uniform. It used to excite me before, the school girl act, but now it rips something through me as I can imagine accurately what is underneath, because I've seen it. Felt it.

She seems to notice me before her friends, stopping dead in her tracks at the bottom of the steps, making the one behind her stop, too.

Her initial shock at seeing me subsides as she mutters something to her friends before storming over to where I'm stood. I can't help a shit eating grin making it's way onto my face. She looks adorable when she's angry.

Like a feisty baby lion.

"What are you doing here?" She bites out as her greeting. She stands a few feet away from me, perhaps not trusting herself enough to stand too close to me.

The thought makes my grin wider.

"We really need to teach you some manners," I tell her, watching her face redden with frustration even more. I pull myself back from reaching out and pinching her cheeks. That will just push her over the edge and I'm trying to persuade her to get into my car, not walk away. "Come on, get in," I jerk my head to the passenger side as I push off my car and go to head to the drivers side.

"What?" Easton doesn't move an inch, crossing her arms in a stubborn attempt, staying rooted to the spot. "Where are we going?"

I'll pick her up and throw her into the car if I have to.

"Consider it a surprise," I bite out, rolling my eyes.

She always has to fight every little thing. 

Her stubbornness turns into caution as she studies me. "I thought we'd established that you're not very good at surprises." Her eyes narrow. Those infuriatingly curious bright green eyes.

I peer at her from over the roof of the car as she looks at me with doubt and I can almost see the angel and devil on her shoulder, trying to persuade her to come with me or to turn around and go straight home.

Finally, she lets out a deep huff and starts to get into the car. "Fine," she glares at me from over the car roof.

It only brings a genuine grin to my face.