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33

The room reeks of weed.

Dom, my best friend–though I'd never admit that he is–, is seated on the couch opposite me, music playing in the background.

"How's it going with Jupiter?" Eli asks, blowing smoke out, Amy, one of his 'friends', kisses down his neck.

"Venus," I correct, then add, "I'm... proceeding forward."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His brows furrow and a laugh escapes him. He's way too high, but I'm not one to speak.

"It means, that I'm working on it and everything's going as it's supposed to," I rub the butt of the joint on the ashtray, leaning back.

"I haven't seen you in forever, man. That tour of yours is keeping you away from me," he says.

"Well, I don't want to take over my father's company once he retires. I want something of my own. To my own name." I say. Some may think what I said is malicious, or harsh, but Dom knows what I mean. And he's probably too high to get mad.

The laughter of girls is heard, getting progressively louder, and closer.

"I invited some girls," he smirks at me, the blonde kisses up his jaw, her hands gripping him everywhere.

We've been friends long enough, and have been through enough together. We've seen a lot of each other. Shared girls.

"My treat," he says as two girls walk into the large living room. They're call girls.

Soft Hampton's august breeze blows in my face, as I'm facing the large window doors, that are wide open.

"I'll pass," I say as the girl starts to move towards me. I wave them away, lighting another joint.

"It's unlike you," he says surprised. It is, I never pass on sex.

"I'm not in the mood tonight," I say, blowing the smoke out. Thoughts of Venus fill my mind.

"Well, more for me," he laughs, the girls joining in on the fun, not wanting privacy.

I have a problem. I can't push myself to have sex with someone else. It's unlike me. I've had only two actual relationships, and I was never monogamous, never committed. And, now, when I'm not even in a relationship, I can't have sex with anyone else.

One of the girls unbuttons his shirt, her hands caressing down his chest to the button of his pants. Her hands slip into his pants and start working on him.

Dom throws his head back, moaning.

"Well, that's my cue," I say. I push myself up, ready to leave.

"Don't wanna watch," Dom asks.

We've watched each other fuck before. I don't mind watching, but I'd rather not get myself worked up when I can't release the frustration.

"Not today."

"Let Andrew drive you home," he calls out, followed by loud giggling.

Typical Dom. Girls and drugs. I wonder how far it'll take him.

"Okay," I shout, stumbling through the halls.

• • •

I sit in my car, looking out the window, waiting for her to come out.

I watch as she emerges from her apartment building, looking distraught. Scared, even.

My heart rate picks up at the sight of her looking so alert. My hand instructive goes to the handle, ready to pull it open and march over to her, but I stop myself.

She briskly walks away, clutching her bag, not looking back. Her step doesn't falter.

Soon, she disappears around the corner.

My questions are answered when her ex steps out of her building. Of course. The guy just looks for trouble.

"Round around the corner," I tell my driver, getting out of the car.

I walk up to the ex, crossing the street. He scowls as I grab his collar, dragging him into the alley.

"What the fuck, man!" He yells, trying to shrug off my grip.

Taking a closer look at him, my men have fucked him up badly.

I throw the first punch, and then several follow.

By the time I'm done, my knuckles are bloody, not only with his blood. I cracked the skin open.

"I though I made myself clear. Stay. Away. From her," I empathize each word. I push him away. He falls onto the stone ground roughly. "If I see you around here again, I won't be as merciful," I tell him, and walk out of the alley, just as the car pulls up.

"Go," I order the driver, once I'm in. My hand's buzzing, my knuckles bleeding.

My phone buzzes.

My father is calling me.

"When are you bringing her over?" Straight to business. The asshole just can't wait. He's used to everything being done at the snap of his fingers.

"Soon," I reply. I don't know how I'll get her though. I still don't exactly have her.

"Soon, when?" He asks, his voice strict, as always.

"I said soon," I grit through my teeth, already annoyed. I'm annoyed as it is because of the little problem I had earlier.

"Fix your tone," he demands, his voice low, the same dangerous tone I was used to. "And is she aware?" He asks.

"Yes," I lie.