Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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Caleb's POV
Anastasia seems to be playing a different game now. She was my dealer—my wild card—and Cecylia, her best friend, was my right hand. I was playing a game that ended with betrayal, and I can't afford that anymore.
Anastasia doesn't need the money for basic needs. No, she needs it for her desires—think of it as black money. Money she can use for things she can't normally purchase. She was in it partly for that, and partly because of the gang freak that she is, or was. Her usual absence has made me cautious—I can't afford any fuck-ups anymore.
I took another drag of my cigarette as I tried to shake Chloe off my arm. God, she's eager for the chase, but I don't have time for that. The only reason I keep her close is because I fuck a specific type of woman—mature, horny, experienced, and willing sluts—and she's one of them.
I didn't want to discuss anything related to my dealings today. It was the last university opening night, and I needed a fucking break from the family chaos. I was away for mainly two reasons: 1) I had to deal with Anastasia's backup situation along with the gang's plans for the year with my crew, and 2) I wanted to stay away from all the family bullshit before college resumed—and a certain brunette—Esme.
My eyes automatically roamed across the room, and there she was—with her little group yet standing out. Popular. Of course, little Miss Queen Bee was the kind of popular everyone wanted to love and associate with. I was the kind people naturally stayed away from, and I preferred it that way.
She wore a mini skirt with a so-called modest top that made her look innocent, yet utterly fuckable. Fuck. I drank the rest of my whiskey and set the glass down as I unknowingly adjusted myself to get a better view of her dancing to the sensual music.
My eye caught a pink-haired dude approaching her with a gaze that would surely get him beaten up by exactly two people worthy enough to take his muscular body down swiftly—Trevor and me. The only difference was, I'd want to fuck her later. Fuck. I looked away for a second to control my desperation. I blame the alcohol.
Suddenly, I heard a shriek from the same corner of the hall where Esme stood. I immediately turned, and there she was, pushing that dude away. I rushed up to them, smirked, and within a second, had the boy on his fucking knees with my hand around his neck.
One press, and he'd be a forgotten body. I continued staring at Esme, trying to catch her reaction—her lips were slightly parted, there was sweat on her forehead, and the worry lines seemed to have eased. She seemed satisfied, but the horror in her eyes at the scene in front of her was evident.
The people in the vicinity were shocked, observing—needy people always looking for fucking drama. A few of my friends rushed to the scene, but they knew I could handle it, so they kept their distance. I didn't fucking care about what was happening at the moment but about what happened before I grabbed this snail struggling under my harsh touch.
"What did he do, Cherry?" I asked her, intensity dripping from both my voice and my stone-cold face, where a smirk played.
"He hit me," she answered, avoiding my gaze. That information wasn't enough. I desperately needed to beat someone up today, to loosen up. This wasn't helping ignite the fire to the extent I wanted—especially not to do it in front of her. However, she needed to know the monster I truly was.
"Where?" I impatiently growled.
"On my butt," she replied, still avoiding my gaze, trying to look away from the scene in front of her. People were watching. She was a people person, always taking others' opinions seriously.
Her words sent a flash of the previous scene through my veins, despite me not witnessing it. I ruthlessly dragged the boy out of the hall toward an empty part of the campus. My men followed right after. There was no sight of Esme. She must have stayed back to ease the tension I caused, probably worried about her reputation. Ugh, I hated how she made me feel, how she wasn't the type of girl I should be with or even look at. She was supposed to be out of bounds for me.
I mercilessly beat the boy as he begged for forgiveness. "If I see you on campus again, especially within 10 feet of her, your parents will receive a package of your fucking burnt bones. Is that clear?" I growled, spitting out the words, pulling his hair with my firm grip. He nodded, despite the pain, and ran away.
I could have gone on for hours, but I stopped for valid reasons—1) If I killed him near campus, my father would have to cover it up, which would fuck my plans for the year. 2) I didn't want to give Esmeralda the wrong idea that I would actually kill him for her. 3) I had to plan tomorrow's mission with fewer headaches and distractions—Cherry being one of them.
I got up from the ground as one of my men brought me first aid for my injured fist from beating that trash. I didn't need much—the pain was intoxicating. I grabbed the disinfectant and started pouring it over the wound when I noticed Esme in the moonlight at the end of the alley on the main road. She looked absolutely beautiful—her hair wild, her eyes filled with curiosity as if she were searching for someone, and then her gaze landed on mine. Fuck. I needed to leave.
"Let's go," I said, gesturing to my men, and we disappeared before she got there.
I don't know how much longer I'll be able to avoid you, Cherry.
