Porsche only gave me a disaproving look as I feel my anger rushing towards my head. The moment that I learned about him quitting, I just lost control of my emotions.

That time when I saw them talking at the garage of my club, is not the first time that I felt this anguish. And the mere sight of how Vegas gave him suggestive looks, is enough to make my blood boil and send my emotions on outburst. Most specially the fact that Vegas is a psychopath, who doesn't care for someone's death and even kills while looking them in the eye.

I'm already willing to acclimate to whatever terms Porsche may like just to keep him away from them, but that bastard is way too cunning and this one is just utterly stupid.

"What does this got to do with Vegas?!" He gusted while furrowing his brows at me. Confusion and irritation fired his eyes looking like a set of flaming black balls.

I rolled my eyes in disbelief. I don't know if this bastard is pretending or just completely unaware of what I am saying. But after the situation at the shooting range, I ordered Pete to follow Porsche around wherever he go.

"Then if it's not about Vegas, why would you quit!?" I gnarled in reply, staring at his aghast black orbs with my seething ones. He didn't let go of my gaze as if I've done something wrong to him. I only stared back, waiting for him to reply. The bastard slightly turned while clenching his fist tight, averting my gaze and murmuring incoherent words-probably curses, to me. My ears tingle as the level of angst in my mind escalated with every erratic move Porsche make.

"Porsche."

"......."

"Porsche answer me."

"..."

"Answer me!" I shouted and yanked him close to me.

"It's because of you!" He pushed my hands away together with a nudge on my chest, as he grips my collar in full force. I staggered back and looked at him bewildered.

"How is it because of me-" I wasn't able to finish what I am gonna say when Porsche's fist intercepted with my broad cheek. A searing sensation immediately creeps through the sides, down to the rims of my jawline.

"That's right you fucking bastard! It was all your fault! How dare you! How fucking dare youuu!!!"
Porsche took a fist again and was about to aim it back to my face, but I grabbed him tightly by his wrist and pinned him to the wall.

"What the fuck did I do to you!?" I asked, thou I know quite well what he's pointing out to.

"You still dare to ask me!? You fucking asshole!" Porsche flicked my hand and succeeded in getting out of my grasp.

"If this is still about last time, you know that I don't have any choice."
I replied on my defense. Reaching out to grab Porsche's hands again.

"You don't have a choice!? Then what about last night!? Is that still considered 'no choice'!? You're completely aware that I'm against that shit, but you still continued messing me up!!" He snapped back at me, jerking my hands every time I tried to grab his arm.

"Why do you still overthink about it Porsche? It has already been done. And we can't do anything about it anymore."

"I know! I fucking know! It's done and we can't do anything about it! But you can't blame me if I can't bare to see your face, thinking that.. that shit.... that fucking shit really happened!" Porsche's voice echoed through the pavement of the front porch, making his neighbors silently open their doors and peek on us. I tried to calm him and hold his hands, but he refused my gesture and swat them away.

The mafia boss And his Bodyguard [BxB]Where stories live. Discover now