King of Hatred | BDSM

Chapter 2 - His club*

"I don't know about myself, but I most probably will fuck someone, don't worry."

That bastard. It's been six days since I visited Rowan in his club, and his words keep replaying in my head. I knew he wasn't going to embrace me in a warm hug after all these years, but I also did not expect the way he acted, and his cruel words are still on replay, even almost a week later.

In the past couple of days, I've read every interview he has done since owning several businesses and looked up every photo of him, although I probably shouldn't because the sight of his face makes my heart ache.

I would change the past if I could if that would mean I didn't have to leave him behind, but as much as I want to, I can't.

I tried to let this topic go, to accept his rejection and move on with my life - or whatever was left of it, but I just simply couldn't. I've waited for five years to talk to him again, to explain everything to him, so why would I give up at the first inconvenience?

I lift my head from the armrest of my couch and glance at the wristband on my coffee table.

Okay, so I might have done something else in these past couple of days...

I would say it wasn't intentional to go back to the club two days after our conversation happened to get a membership, but that would be a lie. It was intentional, and I felt very badass for doing it until I got home and realized that I'll never have the courage to step foot in that club as a member and do... things.

So I just placed the wristband the receptionist lady gave me on the coffee table, and every few minutes I look at it, urging myself to say 'fuck this' and go to the club. Also, the fact that the membership is expensive is another motivation because I don't want to waste that type of money when I don't have much left.

Looking around in my shitty apartment, I groan and let my head fall back on the armrest.

I've never been in a situation like this. I always had food to eat, and a clean, decent place to call home, but this place is far away from being proper, but for the price, this was a good catch. This was the only one I had enough money to rent, and I'll have money left for next month's rent if I cut back on the food.

I applied for jobs, several jobs, but in this city, it can take months for the companies to get back to you, even if you have the right qualifications - which I do, fuck you, Rowan. That's why I hoped to get a temporary job at Vixen, but that went out of the window along with my confidence after speaking to Rowan.

Checking the time on my phone shows that it's not even 10 p.m. yet. I'm going to go crazy in this shoebox-sized hole if I don't do something other than watching TV shows on my laptop, applying for new jobs, and staring at the ceiling with Rowan's words in mind.

This is absolutely nuts.

I decide to take a walk and start to stand up from the couch but sit back almost instantly. Going for a walk in this neighborhood at this time of the day wouldn't be the smartest thing to do.

I look at the wristband, a.k.a. my key to Vixen again.

I shake my head and look away.

Then I repeat this.

And again.

"Okay, fuck this." I snap and rush to one of the moving boxes filled with my clothes in the corner of the room since I don't have a wardrobe yet.

Twenty-six minutes and two breakdowns later, I have an 'alright' outfit on with light makeup on my face, so I gather my stuff, put on my wristband, and leave my apartment. Since I had to sell my car, I called an Uber. Although my heart aches for the wasted money, I rather spend a little money on something that gives me safety than be murdered.