The Fake Girlfriend

Chapter 1

O n e 

              I was close to blacking out when he swung a meaty fist aimed for my right temple. Ducking, I injected my elbow into his gut and watched in amusement as he crumbled into the gravel —wheezing and gasping. The guy was built like Adonis, though he only towered at 5ft.

              I felt myself smile as I licked away the dry metallic blood in the corner of my lip, not knowing if it was my own. 

               "Hanson, you'll pay for this." He, I was yet to figure out his name so I'll call him Adonis, coughed scrambling to his feet. Crimson blood trailed down his busted lips where I'd first hit and I took time in admiring my handy work as I watched him , with narrowed eyes, blindly hurl himself head-first at me.

               I dodged it with ease kicking his butt, literally, and consequently, he crashed into the floor hissing out an, "oof".

               This "fight" had ended way too quickly for my liking however, I could feel myself wafting in and out of consciousness on account of the alcohol running through my veins.

               "Come on, fight me!" I provoked.

               I wanted more. Things have been way too boring ever since I'd left the gang and I was starting to question whether I'd made the right choice. 

             Adonis grunted absurdly, reaching out to grab my ankle. Noticing, I pounded the heel of my boot into his fingers, enjoying the sound of his bone crushing against the gravel.

            He screamed in agony.

            Another smile fell onto my lips.

            "Please," he cried, "Stop it! Please."

           I lifted up my heel, giving him false hope, before readying myself to slam it back down for good measure when something caught my eye making me curse my father's name under my breath.

           Of course it would be none other than Jonathan Ronan. Jonathan was that one employee that went to no end to please my father, non sexually of course. Although I have no doubt Jonathan would love having my father's dick up his ass. Besides that, the fact that Jon would go out of his way to pretend he wanted to be my friend only to turn around the next day and spy on me with the intention of reporting me to my father, made my blood boil and my fingers curl.

           I glared down at a panting, hopeless Adonis seeing that he had given up completely and decided on laying there lifeless. I wanted to beat the shit out of him so I could get rid of this never-ending anger on someone who deserved it. Someone who needed a fist so far in their gut their lungs collapsed; yet as I angrily stared at this hopeless fool I couldn't. I couldn't because part of me knew that I couldn't lose control again. 

            So I ran south, where my car was parked. The sounds of sirens in the distance told me Jon had seen enough to decide calling the cops on me was neccessary but I had learned enough from my past to know that the best way to appear inconspicuous is to convince yourself you've done nothing wrong. So as I reached the end of Madison Avenue, crossing over to Filmore's Lane, I felt even calmer when I spotted my red Porsche where I'd parked it.

            "If it isn't the infamous Zach Hanson."

           I didn't even spare the Irrelevant Mike a glance, instead I carried on making way across the road to where my Porsche awaited. Mike couldn't fight for shit. I felt almost offended that Jensen would send such a worthless fighter like him to knock some sense into me. The Irrelevant Mike was good for one thing: supplying drugs and providing knives.