Lightning Strike (Billionaire Boys Club #3) | ongoing

Chapter 6

                    Madden:

A fucking bitch.

Alora Ha is a bitch.

No questions asked.

This all I can think about as I sit in my car outside of Angel's house after everyone has already left  It was what I was thinking about while I dropped my sister off at home, it was what I was thinking about on my drive over here and it was what I was thinking about when I first went into the entertainment room and called her that very name.

As much as I loathed the very sight of that girl, I'm happy that Rosie had a good time. I masked my emotions while she was with me and when I was with my friends but now, now the steam is rising to the surface.

Why haven't I left yet?

I brace my hands on the steering wheel but then abandon it all together as I get out of the car and slam the door behind me.

Taking out my phone, I send a quick text to my sister.

Me
I'll be home late. You should go to sleep.

Rosie
Are you going to be drunk when you come home?

Me
No

I'm not so sure about that, if I'm being completely honest.

Rosie
Fine. But I'll have someone watch out for you.

Me
Great. Thanks, mom.

Rosie
Don't insult me like that.

Huffing out a laugh, I tell her again to go to sleep and then she tells me to be safe and goodnight.

I walk into the room we were all just in a bit ago and shoot off another text to Angel.

Me
I'm back inside. You mind if I stay for a little longer?

Leaning against the back of the sofa, I await his reply, which doesn't come for another four minutes and I internally kick myself.

Fuck. He and Thea were probably... well, fucking.

Angel
Of course. Give us a minute and we'll come down and join you.

Not long later, Angel comes in and tells me to come to the kitchen.

"Sorry." I apologise gruffly while we walk over. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Don't be." He knocks my shoulder with his. "Besides," a smirk graces his lips. "We already got one good round in."

"Fuck off." I bump his shoulder harder.

He chuckles. "Anyway. She gets hungry..." he trails off, glancing sideways at me before facing forward again. "So that's why we're going to the kitchen."

"Your parents home?" I ask. Usually, they're on a business trip and more often than not, Angel is left home on his own. But that's the way he likes it. And in any case, his parents love him like a newborn regardless, calling him daily and texting.

When we reach the kitchen, the voice responding to his girlfriend answers that question.

"I didn't like it at first but it grew on me." Angel's mother, Aylin, tells her. She's a lovely half-Turkish woman with the same pale skin and dark hair as her son.

"You can't convince me." Thea shakes her head with a light laugh.

"What are you two talking about?" Angel quirks a brow.