Drugs & Dior

Chapter 8

Damon

"I really don't care about—"

"You made us send her home. It was you, don't think it wasn't. So, quite frankly, I don't care if you care or not. I want you to know that that girl comes from a bad home, she was expecting to finally have an out, finally be able to live her own life, and you crushed everything in her, I'll be surprised if she ever wants to come out here again, if she decides not to give up on life itself. I hate you, Damon Merari. I hate your guts and I hope you feel the pain she felt in that medics bed as she was dry heaving, shaking, and hyperventilating, surrounded by people who could do absolutely nothing to help her."

"Are you done?" I ask. "I really don't need a speech at six in the morn—"

"No," she yells into my ear through the phone. I have to pull it away to save my ears. "I can't believe I was tricked into working with you. I hope you burn, Damon. I hope you crash. I hope you can never drive again. I hope your d*ck gets bitten off by one of the girls you aggressively f*ck as they scream 'slow down!' 'wait!' 'be gentle!' I hope you get thrown back into your—"

"You better not finish that sentence," I growl. "Hold your tongue or you'll lose it, Vanessa."

"I hope you lose everything," Vanessa goes on. "I hope you feel just as bad as she felt when she was sent back to her house one day."

I roll my eyes. "I'm hanging up now."

"Damon you better no—"

Beep beep beep, b*tch.

A stupid model girl is the last thing I need to worry about right now. I have a race tonight. And I need to hit the gym. It's been a while since I stopped by there.

I scratch my neck as I think about what I should eat for breakfast, completely forgetting a bout the lecture I just got.

______

"Hey, boss," Eli greets me when I walk into the gym in our clubhouse. I bought everything here, the clubhouse itself, the equipment, the cars, the garage everything.

"Eli," I greet. "Good to see you finally making your life useful." He's bench pressing, without a spotter. It's not a light looking amount of weight either.

He finishes his sets and sits up. "I do a lot of things with my life," he says with a smirk. "I f*ck b*tches, fix cars, race, and now I'm a gym bro."

I toss a towel over my shoulder. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Maybe it'll come true."

"It's is true!"

"I know," I respond sarcastically.

"You should do something with your life before you make fun of mine," Eli pouts. He crosses his arms like a child and actually pouts his lip out. It's makes me want to punch him, but I suppress the urge.

Deciding to ignore him, I begin my workout.

"So, you exited for the race tonight?" He asks.

"So-so," I respond. "I've been racing for a while and haven't lost recently. It's starting to get too easy, like a simulation."