The Billionaire Darkness

Chapter Fifty-Four

Adrian Winters

I had conveniently had the literal day from hell. First some fucking halfwit nearly crashed into me on my way to school, because the moron wasn't fucking paying attention—proving my point that less people should be able to drive to begin with. Then I was late and marked on it which would reflect my overall grade, Sav had chosen today at eight in the morning exactly to initiate some petty argument that I had thoroughly attempted to follow, but logic alluded half of the shit we argued about which at this point was mostly me going through the motions of fixing what I could, and then being yelled at because it wasn't happening at the speed she silently had expected me too.

Clearly doing my fucking best, isn't quite enough. Fuck my life.

It was for that reason that the first chance I got I went to the library to seek out the silence that the secret room would provide me. Rounding the final shelf on the second floor of the massive Thornbrook library I moved as always into the encyclopedia section, and pulled the book needed to access the room before checking over my shoulder once more as I slid into the hallway pushing the thick shelf door shut behind me.

Pacing into the living room I half fell onto the couch and spread myself across it, my frame taking over all three cushions as I stared up at the ceiling, the rafters seeming to support the reaching spire high above while the dulled turn of gears occurred in the front of the school where the clock ticked behind the archway topped landing on the second floor of the room, an area Riley had recently turned into a billiards area. Though I hadn't seen him arrive with any component of the eight foot table, nor set it up.

Resigning myself I sat up and reached for the pile of homework I needed to get done by next week, and had informed my mind that it would be happening before the end of the day. Part of it was so that I wouldn't need to pay attention, which I typically didn't—at least not completely, the necessity wasn't there, but I also had the more pressing task of finding what I could about Demetri's actions which had become more erratic in recent weeks, and from what I knew he was on edge, for what reason I didn't quite know, but I needed to if I was going to take him down a few pegs.

I knew that if he was like this it was probably let out on that girl, and for some reason the familiar coiling sensation that I got when thinking about any kind of harm befalling her wrapped itself around my organs and gave a vicelike squeeze.

A chill passed over me in the aftermath, as a suspicion about what it was collided with me.

Yeah, absolutely-the-fuck-not.

I nearly stabbed myself for fuck sake as I lifted my hand to run a hand through my hair. I caught myself, and settled for setting the pen down and standing to walk across the room to the kitchen where I knew Hunter had snuck a case of beer into our secret room and stared down at the bottle beside it—whiskey, Drumshanbo exactly what I expected from the playboy himself. It was a cheaper bottle the kind that I would drink in one night just because, and drowning this guilty feeling that swirled as my mind vividly recalled the girl from the October Gala seemed like a viable option, but I wanted to do better, and to do that I needed to remain sober.

That was how Nico found me fifteen minutes later leaning against the counter with the bottle now moved to the counter as I stared back at it inside its glass confines, still corked the amber liquid inside level while I just stared.

"Are you...okay?" he asked, glancing around as if expecting things to be thrown, which wasn't exactly an unusual expectation, I was known to throw a glass if I got irritated at myself enough, it was for that very reason I had replaced a set of thick bottomed glasses just last year.

"Yes," I offer even if the truth was quite different.

"Staring at a bottle of whiskey like it's done something to you seems quite polar to that?" Nico points out as he leaned against the back of a corner chair.