"By definition, gay is smart. I see plenty of macho heterosexual idiots, but nine times of of ten you can have a great conversation if you find a gay guy,"- Jason Bateman
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Song:"Better Left Unsaid"
-Ariana Grande
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~Dakota's Pov~
"Get the fuck off of me! Killian, Chesney! Help," I screamed as Wyatt, obviously drunk, grabbed my hips, smiling wolfishly. I slapped his hands and pushed at his chest, trying to get him away from me as best I could.
"I said get off! Wyatt what we had is over, get your drunk ass hands off of me," I shouted and he chuckled, grabbing my hands in his strong arms.
"C'mon Wessy baby, you know you still want this," he whispered, the scent of alcohol and tobacco strong in his breath, as he guided my right hand to his crotch. I jerked my hand away as he snickered, shaking his head. An evil, crooked, smile stretched across his face as he gazed into my eyes.
"You're not still hung up on the Derrith thing are you? Look, it's over, he's dead. So what," He said, nonchalantly, and I slapped him across the face with all the force I could muster. Fucking Bastard!
"Keep your dirty mouth shut! Don't you ever talk about Derrith that way," I shouted and he smirked, nodding and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Oh no, did I draw blood? Good.
"Why not? You still aren't over the fact that you were responsible for his death," he snickered and I drew my fist back before slinging into his jaw, making him fall to the ground, attracting attention from the nearby clubbers.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up," I screamed, tears pouring down my face. I'm not a murderer! I'm not!
By now, the music had shut off and people were looking at me like I was psychotic. Wyatt chuckled, standing up, and he wiped his lip before he slapped me across the face, making me gasp with a small shriek as pain exploded through my cheek.
"Never hit me again, you got that," Wyatt growled out, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, and I nodded lazily, my head and cheek throbbing from the force of his hand against my face.
"I think you should get your hands off of him, now."
I fluttered my eyes open as a dark, murderous voice rang out from in front of us. I looked around Wyatt's head to see Killian standing in a fierce pose, arms crossed and nostrils flaring. His breathing was erratic and the veins on his muscles were visible and throbbing. My knight in a sleeveless tee.
"And if I don't," Wyatt snickered, not yet seeing who he was talking to, and Killian stalked over to him, glaring. Wyatt laughed, turning around, and his laughter stopped abruptly as he saw the beast that was Killian. He licked his lips nervously and let me go quickly, smiling anxiously at Killian.
"Too late," Killian whispered and he grabbed Wyatt by the collar and jerked him up into the air with both arms. He threw him to the ground, causing Wyatt to cry out, and Killian proceeded to climb on top of him.
"You think you can hurt my Kota like that," Killian growled out, making my heart flutter at hearing him call me his, and Wyatt shook his head, lip quivering.
"P-please-"
Killian drove his fist into Wyatt's mouth, interrupting his pleading and the crowd gasped as a bit of blood spurted out of his mouth. Wyatt cried in pain, holding his mouth as it bled. Killian grabbed him by his collar once again and hoisted him up to where their faces were almost touching. By now the room had gone totally silent, everyone was completely focused on the battle, or rather, beat down.
"Shut up! You do not speak! You hurt Dakota, I hurt you," Killian growled out before slamming Wyatt's head back into the floor and raining punches down. Oh my God, he's going to kill him. He's going to kill him!
I snapped out of my trance and grabbed Killian by the shoulders, pulling him off the best I could. He struggled against me, trying to still inflict pain on Wyatt. I can't let him do this, he needs to stop.
"Killian no! You can't continue, stop! If you kill him you're surely going to jail, please stop! You can't help your grandmother from jail! You need to stop! I'm begging you, please,"I shouted and he stopped thrashing as he was hit with the realization that he could be put in prison for life. He slowly got off of Wyatt, who was reduced to a shaking, whimpering mess, and he looked at me with sadness shining in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered and I smiled softly, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug and I wiped my tears, feeling as more tears, Killian's tears, were landing on my face as well.
"It's okay Killer, okay? Thank you," I whispered and he sniffed, hugging me tighter before chuckling softly.
"You know, there's a better way to thank me, I mean, if you're okay with it, I don't want to rush-"
I snickered at his rambling and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the lips, making his eyes widen before closing and kissing me back.
"Aww! I know them! They're my friends! Hi guys!"
We pulled apart to see a cheering Chesney that was waving and clapping like a lunatic. He was stumbling a bit and laughing uncontrollably. He had to be drunk. Killian sighed from behind me and walked over to Chesney, wrapping his arms around his shouldes to keep him balanced.
"Chesmunk! C'mon, I said let me get your drinks," Killian chided and Chesney giggled, pointing to his glass on the bar counter, which was now coincidentally missing a bartender, of course.
"I don't need help with water! Silly," Chesney said and he tapped Killian's head before playing with his hair much to Killian's dismay.
"Yeah, that definitely wasn't water. C'mon, let's get you home," Killian groaned and Chesney nodded, waving at his friend that he was talking to before we walked out of the club.
When we get home, I'm so going to give my bed some much needed attention.
~Blaise's Pov~
"This seat taken?"
I looked over to my side and smirked as I saw Wyatt with a busted lip and a black eye. I shook my head, laughing softly, and he sighed sitting down on the barstool next to me.
"It was pretty funny watching you get the shit beaten out of you, you know," I said and he crossed his arms looking away. Not speaking? Heh, I'm going to have fun with this.
"Unsurprisingly, you look better like this. I think Killian did you a favor," I told him, smirking, and he glared at me before looking at the floor, cracking a grin.
"I guess the guys finally got tired of your bitch ass huh? Judging by those suitcases, I'm guessing you're out of a place to sleep," Wyatt said, a smug grin plastered on his face. Fuck, I knew his silence wouldn't last. It was too good to be true.
"That's none of your business. And shut the hell up about them, I came here to forget about those traitors. Especially Chesney. I even paid the bartender a few extra twenties to spike his drink. I told him I'd give him more if he'd mix in a little rat poison but he wouldn't, he didn't want to go back to jail. The wuss," I grumbled and Wyatt leaned on the bar, licking his bruised lips and chuckling.
"Spiteful, I like it," he stated, winking, and I rolled my eyes. He reached over and grabbed my margarita, taking a sip before placing the glass back down in front of me. I know he didn't just-
"Do you want another black eye," I said, curling a fist, and he shrugged, turning his back to the bar and leaning back on it.
"If you'll kiss it better babe," he said, winking, and I narrowed my eyes making him chuckle. I swear, one more wink, and I'm gouging out his eye with my toothbrush.
"You know, I could help you out with your situation there," he told me, nodding his head towards my suitcases and I raise a brow, slightly intrigued.
"Oh really, what's the catch," I asked and he turned around to face me, leaning closer. There's always a catch with his type, always.
"You have to take care of my situation," he whispered and I gasped before slapping him across his face, making a loud clapping noise ring throughout the club. No way in hell am I having sex with a sleazeball like him! I have standards. High standards.
"Hell no, you're not getting your grubby hands on me," I shouted, standing from the bar, and he held his cheek, glaring at me. He stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me through the club and into the nearby alley. I jerked my hand away from his grasp as soon as his grip weakened and I readied myself to fight back if need be. Growing up on the streets, you learn a thing or two about self-defense.
"What the hell? What's the big idea, huh? You going to try and ra-" He placed his hands over my mouth and pushed me against the brick wall. I kicked at him as I clawed at his arm, trying to get him off of me.
"Shut up will ya? And stop clawing me," he growled, pushing my cheeks together. I stopped kicking him and gripped his arms, not planning on letting him get any further.
"Now, you're going to be quiet, and listen, okay," he asked, speaking to me like I was a child, and I nodded, my head rubbing painfully against the bricks of the wall.
"Good, now, I didn't mean take care of that situation. I meant, I want my own revenge," he whispered and I nodded, understanding where the misunderstanding came from. My bad.
"Revenge on who? With what," I asked and he smiled snakily, mischief playing in his eyes.
"Killian," he whispered and I gasped. Fuck, not Killian! He's never hurt me! Dakota? Drop him from the Empire State Building. Bello? Push him into high traffic. Chesney? Soak him in gasoline and set him ablaze for all I care. But Killian? The lovable chef that was always there for me when I needed him? I can't.
"Now, I'm not saying you have to help. All I'm saying is that you have to answer one question," he whispered and I licked my lips, looking away from him. I need a place to stay, if answering his stupid question will get me a bed to sleep on, then so be it.
"What," I shakily questioned and he smirked, chuckling and looking down at the ground before his gaze settled on me again. As his eyes met mine, he narrowed his eyes.
"Where's Killian's grandmother at," he asked and I shook my head. No. I'm not going to tell. That woman is way too sweet to fall victim to some revenge plot. She doesn't deserve this.
"Tell me and I promise, I'll get you a place to stay. You'll get a place at that fancy French hotel. You'll get room service, a place to sleep, a nice, cozy room to stay in. All for free. All you have to do, is answer the question," he said and I hesitated before I shook my head once again. I can't. I won't. He growled before pushing me against the wall again, making me cry out as my head knocked against the wall.
"Why are you protecting them? They threw you out remember? Do you think they really care about you? You think they love you? Open your damn eyes! People like you and me, we're one in the same. We grew up alone, and that's how we'll die. Alone. Now, you can either get back at them now, or regret not doing it when you're on your deathbed. Because trust me, you back out of this, you won't be breathing for much longer," Wyatt stated and I heard as a car door shut and men dressed in all black came closer, guns in hand. Wyatt smirked and looked back at me.
"Do we have ourselves a deal," he asked and I gulped, looking at the guns, and I nodded. I'm sorry.
"Good, now, answer the question," he said and I took a deep, shaky breath.
"She's at St. Genevieve, room 339."
I'm so sorry
~~~
Hey guys! I hope you loved this chapter as much as I did! So much drama, I love it! Anyways, any Blaise haters? Still hate him? Any changed minds? Tell me in the comments below!
Question of the Chapter- Thoughts on Blaise?
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