[𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫]: Join Elena and Jake on journey around Los Angeles no one has seen so far, where they battle personal demons and emerge as a reunited cooperators. In a reunion marked by unraveling truths, they confront memories and face a myster...
A massive, gorilla-looking try-hard—more likely to send someone running with his rank breath than his tough-guy stance—stood on my way.
Under different circumstances, I wouldn't waste a single second.
I'd clear my path from that pathetic grown-up—stealing porn magazines from his dad's secret stash—so quickly and effortlessly that, before even stepping into the club, I'd use his cheap, vodka-soaked uniform to wipe my fresh Hermès boots.
I'd do it in a heartbeat, and I'm still itching to.
Especially since he had the nerve to grab my arm to block me.
I could practically hear the fabric crunching under his grip.
Well, one thing is that I snagged that jacket from some jerk I gifted a few bullets into his head earlier today for honking at me.
Since that ass wasn't gonna use it anyway and my old one was already too stained with blood, I figured it'd be way more useful to me than to him.
Finders keepers losers weepers, though.
Plus, I washed and ironed it myself.
So, it's mine.
And I don't like when someone's messing with what's mine.
But it would've gone down other way, that's for sure.
Tonight, here, I've gotta grit my teeth and suck it up.
"Why all the rough stuff?" I grinned, easing my hand to his wrist. "Let's keep it classy, like gents."
When I finally reached his wrist, I yanked it so hard he hunched over, and a soft gasp escaped his lips.
He's lucky he's still breathing, but let's teach him a lesson.
"Let's not drag this out," I said with a friendly smile as I slipped my hand under my jacket. "Here's the invite."
