Code Red (Book#2 of The Runaway Club)

15. A Band-Aid For Your Nightmares?

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Aaron Krystals

"But, babe—"

"Out!" I roared.

The woman in her lingerie in the middle of my bedroom whimpered and picked up her clothes silently. I was angrily typing away at my phone when she shuffled around for a few more minutes, sniffing and sniffling. And after she was convinced that I wouldn't spare her any look, she walked out quietly. On the inside, I was glad this one wasn't the kind to screech my ears off. 'Cause there had been a few of those in my extensive records.

To say that I am horny and frustrated would be a f*cking underestimation.

Leah or Leaon... or was it Lia? Who cares? The-blonde-chick-who-was-just-kicked-out was one of the groupies who caught ahold of my number and in a very lonely and totally-not-proud-of-myself moment I had answered her calls and gave her my guest penthouse number thinking that I can get a certain dagger-wielding-shooting-people variety out of my head. Keeping aside the pure torture I had to undergo to get my erection up to even put on a condom, it was still the most disappointing s*x I had since I lost my virginity. And trust me, I lost my virginity in a f*cking summer camp and the tent was soggy from rain and something bit me from the mud which gave me hives for weeks. So after I pretended to finish when her damn extensions started coming off in my fists, I asked her to leave.

Politely.

Especially when I made her come multiple times and paid for her lavish dinner/shopping fiasco in return for me to fake orgasm.

And what do I wake up to?

Of f*cking course she would hang around for seconds.

"Kyle. Send me a ride from the guest penthouse." I growled at the new PA Agnes found for me, "And don't forget the schedule."

"Sure, sir." I could hear him tap away at something on the other side. "But you don't have anything lined for you today."

"I don't have anything lined up today?" I scratched my messy head in confusion. "Huh? That's odd."

"Um,Er—Sir, Mrs. McCarthy is saying something about your mother coming over...?"

"Holy f*ck!" I jumped up from the bed like it was on fire. "Ask Rico to drive around my Range Rover, the black one. And a decent shirt! And a new pair of contacts! And shoes!"

I disconnected the call before he could reply and tossed my phone away to run into the washroom. I stared at my disheveled reflection and cringed. Immediately switched on the heater and trimmed my beard as the same time the electric toothbrush cleaned my teeth. And once that was done I whipped out a pair of scissors and tried taming my overgrown hair.

Why didn't nobody remind me that my mom was coming over when I literally pay multiple people for the same DAMN THING?!

I eyed my uneven, poufy hair in despair.

My mom was going to f*cking kill me.

But what was done was done and I promised myself to remind myself to remind Agnes that I need to set an appointment with my regular barber who is probably going to be terrorized at what I had done with my hair. I jumped into the warm shower after peeling away my used contacts and cleaned myself as fast as I could. I was toweling myself dry when the doorbell rang. So I wrapped it around myself to open the door to Rico, my trusty butler and personal driver.

"Your clothes and shoes, Mr. Krystals."

"Thanks!"

I smiled gratefully and took the package to run up the stairs while he hung around in the main living room. I pulled on a burgundy Ralph Lauren dress shirt, dark slacks, belt and Gucci executive shoes before I gelled my hair to give it a wet and messy look to mainly hide the uneven cut. Once my fresh pair of contacts were slipped in, I put on my Rolex and hunted down my wallet, key and gum.