Rebel punk, Oscar Bradley, discovers that his party friend, Max, is the prince of Kingsport's Irish Mob; fierce rivals of the biker gang that's served as Oscar's surrogate family. With Max quickly pulling him deeper into his luxurious but deadly wor...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Angela was standing with Yasmeena, and words were passing between the two, but the Gallagher's eyes were clearly locked on Oscar. He'd gotten some nasty looks in his life, but this one... This one had to be up there on the list. Once Yasmeena walked away, Angela came straight for him, her glare switching to a casual smile the moment Elise looked her way.
"Oscar, can I have a word with you for a second?" she said, quickly adding, "Alone, Ellie."
"Oh..." Elise looked at both of them before nodding, and following Julia and the two guys.
The punk shifted his weight back onto his heel as he watched them go before daring to match gazes with Angela again.
"Uh, did I do something wrong?" he wondered, because she was definitely giving him a look like he'd done something wrong.
"Yet to be determined," Angela snipped, hooking her arm with Oscar's and leading him on a slow walk. "Look, I haven't said anything because she seems to really like you, and I know Marcus genuinely considers you a close friend, but what are you at this for?"
"Uh... " for a minute Oscar's brain drew a blank, before catching on. "Nothing? I just like spending time with Mark and Ellie." He was pretty proud of himself for remembering to call Max by his real name.
Angela didn't seem particularly sated by that answer. "Then just be her friend. Look, you're funny, and whatever, but she has options that are a lot better for her image and reputation than some tattooed ex-convict who happens to think her and her ultra wealthy family, who showers him with gifts, is fun to be around. I don't believe for a second that you love her, and I'm not afraid of telling Marc that."
Almost as if to prove her point, she glanced straight across the room at Max, who was lounging in one of the sitting areas with Davenport... But it wasn't just the two of them. There were girls in glittery cocktail dresses hanging all over both of them... One was even half sitting in Max's lap, and another, he had his arm draped around.
Oscar was silent for a long moment. All the confidence and pride he'd had earlier, was suddenly gone—snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane. Was that why Max didn't want anyone to know about them? Because no matter what clothes he put on, car he drove, watch he wore, he'd always just be the pet punk from the streets? Waiting around for Max to come find him later when no one was around while a stranger got to sit where he should have been, like she fucking belonged there, for everyone to see.
Oscar exhaled so heavily that his nostrils flared, like a bull pawing at the dirt. "Ya know, I didn't ask to be here..."
Angela's reply was swift. "Oh," she laughed, but it definitely wasn't a 'funny-ha-ha' kinda laugh. "Well, maybe you should see yourself out, then. I'm sure there's a high place somewhere with your name on it."
That was the last straw.
Oscar had been on his best behavior, he really had been trying to fit in and play nice but that last little jab was all it took for old Oscar to take over.