8. Ive Got Your Psycho
Chapter eight
I've Got Your Psycho
I 'm laying on the floor crying, crashing off my adrenaline high, when I feel the limo slow and then stop. We idle for a second, and then I hear some muffled male voices before the limo door opens. My shoes are tossed in, followed by my clutch, and then King steps in looking disheveled.
He shrugs out of his suit jacket then reaches down, hauling me to him by my arm. I squeal, bouncing off his chest so hard I almost topple backwards but his hand grips my ass hard, yanking me back and then his mouth slams over mine. Tilting his head and licking into my mouth so thoroughly that my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I struggle against him because I need to see him, need to make sure he's okay.
"Thank you," I murmur against him.
Oh God, his lips feel so good against mine, somehow soft and firm at the same time.
I pull him tighter and tighter, desperately against me. However, the more I struggle the tighter his hands become, and suddenly I realize he's pushing me away.
We pull away with a smack and I gasp, panting for air as we stare each other down in the floor of the limo. My panties are soaking wet and I spread my knees, trying to make it more bearable.
"King-"
"I'm not fucking you right now," he growls. Putting his hand on my cheek, his fingers grip hard making my lips smush together. "Not while you're thinking about that asshole fucking that slut. I won't be your revenge. The first time I fuck you, Izzy, will be on my terms, not yours. I saw the look on your face when you were watching them." His eyes harden. "He wasn't fucking her worth shit. So, get that image of what you think you could have had out of your head, because it's no good here."
My breasts are heaving, my nipples are hard, and everything in me wants him to fuck this man out of my system because King is correct. All I can see is Christopher telling Anna to take it, them straining against each other as if they were starving. And I want that for myself so badly I can taste it.
As if he heard my inner thoughts King tilts his head, his eyes flicker down to my mouth, and then his thumb rubs harshly against my bottom lip.
"And trust me, I won't need to tell you to take it, because what's understood doesn't have to be explained."
My heart skips a beat at his words. King leans into me once more and kisses me harshly, driving his words home. Letting me know how demanding he will be when the time comes. But that time isn't now. I'm still pissed, hurt from betrayal .
And quite frankly, I need revenge, so some shit's gotta get fucked up.
"Thank you," I whisper against his mouth. It comes out garbled so I try again, smoothing my hands down his chest which is heaving. He rips his mouth away, and I tilt my head back, exposing my neck to him as he kisses down my chin and my throat to my cleavage where he bites me on a snarl, making me cry out. "King!" I yelp, feeling him suck my flesh into his mouth right over my neckline. "King, I need to go to my apartment, please. I need- I need…"
To go absolutely psycho like I was just accused of being.
Pulling away from my breast he leans forward, presses a button, and a second later we hear the driver over the speaker. We're both panting, staring hard at one another.
"Yes sir."
"To Ms. Brookes' apartment, Dennis." He tilts his head, staring into my eyes so deeply as I feel a icy hot shiver race up my spine and a tear slips down my cheek.
"I wanted to fuck him up , King!" I grit out harshly, feeling my hands tremble.
"I know. But I got him for you baby, because I didn't want you to hurt yourself."
"H-He was fucking her in my bed, Hendrix. In my bed. The safest place in the whole w-world to me." I let out another sob and then rest my forehead on his chest and just let out all the angry sounds I want. He holds me through it all until my shaking stops and I feel the limo come to a stop.
I pull from him and then crawl to my shoes, putting them on quickly and then grabbing my clutch. The door opens and then I'm out, not even realizing that King is behind me .
Electing to take the stairwell for a few floors to let off some steam, I take out my cell and pull up my mom's number, putting her on speakerphone and shoving the phone into the strap of my bra to keep it there so I can have both hands free. King and his security is trailing close, but I am singularly focused; the rage from earlier needing a release, and I don't want to fuck it out… I want to fight it out.
"Hi, honey! How was tonight? Did you say yes?" My mom sounds so chipper through the phone it makes me even more angry.
"No," I spit out. "I just found out tonight he's fucking my best friend!"
My mom gasps, and it's so theatrical it almost gives me pause but I stop at the ninth floor bent at the waist, sucking in air, absolutely dying because I'm in heels. I limp to the door that leads to the main floor hallway and kick off my heels, leaving them there and then walking through the doors, making my way to the elevator.
"He what? Which one?" Mom gasps again before going quiet. "Was it that skank Anna? It had better not have been Brittany, I'll beat her ass my damn self."
My eyes narrow, walking into the elevator and leaning against one wall while King faces me head on resting his hips against the elevator rail. His stare is almost smoldering. It's as if the madder I get, the more visibly affected he gets. I turn my eyes from him, looking at the numbers tick higher as we ascend. "Yes, and apparently everyone knew but me!"
" Aw, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. But honestly, It was time for you to move on. Just between you and I, you and King look so much better together." I studiously ignore King and the security as my mother keeps talking. The more she talks, the closer we get to my floor and the madder I'm getting. "You should ask him out. You weren't really happy with Christopher anyways, he was just your safety net. Isobel, you're young, gorgeous, and in New York! You don't need to contain yourself to just one person and get strapped down so early in life either! Go ahead and date around, figure out what you really like. That way, you can have a relationship with passion, something that makes you flourish. Grow your business, make a name for yourself." She pauses, and I contemplate her words seeing King's lips tighten slightly.
"Honey, I'm sorry about Anna, but she just looked like that type. Do you want to come here tonight?"
"Nope," I say, popping the 'p' as I look up at the elevator numbers flying through the floors. "Thank you though. I guess I'm an idiot because I couldn't see what was right in front of me. I'm going to go to a hotel for a while until I can get my own apartment. Bye, mom. Thanks for the advice. Love you."
And with that, I hang up on her and then take my phone and slam it against the elevator wall.
King, Xavier, and the other body guard all jump back, but King exits the elevator with me every step of the way. I unlock the door and then kick it open barefoot letting the fires of my rage take me over.
"Fucking bastard couldn't even tell me I looked beautiful tonight, but he sure had no problem telling her," I grit out, looking at King. "He said she looked ravishing."
King tsks his tongue, folding his arms. "She looked like a whore to me," he says so quietly that I know he didn't really intend for me to hear it. I don't respond, hellbent on destroying something.
Ignoring King slowly walking through the space and looking around, I make my way through the foyer and into the kitchen where I grab our biggest knife along with a gallon of bleach, keeping it moving to the master bedroom. Panting, I rip all the covers off until I get to the sheet, then hike my dress up to my hips .
When King appears in the doorway to lean a shoulder against the frame, I don't even spare him a moment's attention as I crawl to the middle of the bed, sink to my knees and then begin plunging the knife into the mattress.
"Couldn't even fuck me, went soft anytime I fucking touched him or wanted to try something new. Never wanted to kiss me, touch me, compliment me. Was never home. Could never do anything with me, never had time for me. His bitch ass wouldn't even look at my designs for my company. No, wasn't interested enough. But I guess he was interested enough to fuck my goddamn assistant. The fucking whore! How could youuuuuu?!" I scream into the room, as if the fucker can hear me. "He could have given me a fucking disease. I never would have done this to him. I was loyal to him. Even though he was fucking boring as shit I looked past that. Well fuck him!"
King grunts softly, his eyes leaving me to roam our bedroom with a thoughtful expression.
I stab the mattress some more before a thought hits me. "I hope you broke something?" I turn to King, blowing my hair out off my face.
King nods at me silently, still leaning there with his eyes on me. Calm.
What I'm not.
I'm aware I look and sound crazy as with every stab I hear a feral grunt leave me. I look over after a few more minutes, breathing hard and seeing King staring at me with an almost amused expression on his face.
"Remember the time he gave you those expired tums? That was real fucked up. Stab it some more, babe, get it all out for me," he says quietly, his gaze dragging down my face and to my breasts.
"Yeah," I huff. "Sure fucking do!" I turn and stab the mattress some more. "Fuck if I'm leaving this apartment intact for her to just slide in and take my place once I'm gone. No sir!" I pant at him, turning back and stabbing the mattress until it's nothing but ripped fabric and stuffing. "Call me psycho? I'll show you mother fucking psycho! Two years I gave your bitch ass!" I scream, flinging the knife to the side. Gustavo steps to the side, easily darting out the way off the knife. "Sorry," I mumble.
I run into the closet and start tearing Christopher's clothes off the hangers and then dumping them on the bed. King's security is now in the room with us, in the doorway watching me act like the psycho I was called. It takes me exactly eight trips to get everything from Christopher's side of the closet.
I walk calmly to the bed and then, breathing hard, I proceed to pour bleach all over his clothes, shoes, and the bed, smiling as I toss the empty container on top of the mess and dust my hands off. I look over at the men. "You know what's fucking sad? I didn't even love him."
He nods, staying silent.
I see the security trade a look before glancing at King who ignores them. I walk into the closet, grab a duffel bag and begin to pack my clothes and all my makeup, hair product, then dump it over at the front door.
Going back into the bedroom, I grab a lipstick and stand on top of the bed, undoing the cap and write "I've got your psycho." Then hop down and start at the far end of the wall, and begin writing his full name all the way from one side of the room to the other end in block letters. Ignoring King who is still leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
When I'm done I toss the lipstick on the floor and then head my way back to the main area where I proceed to toss all the couch cushions out the little window. It's hard because this high up you can only get the window open so far, but with some effort and a lot of grunting I make it work.
Xavier opens the front door to walk out, but I detour into the kitchen and start pulling dishes out of the cabinet and dishwasher breaking them on the floor one by one. Then I take the little rotator plate out of the microwave and shove that out the window too, so when he goes to use it there's nothing to put his plate on.
Then for good measure I cut the cord to the tv.
I see King staring at the picture of us on the wall but I stop him with a look. "Leave it," I snap. Walking out the front door I take a deep breath, then another one. "Oh God, I feel so much fucking better," I mutter, missing the look that the three of them give each other.
I stand there for a moment with my head tossed back and just breathe, feeling the anger and adrenaline leave me in a rush that makes me feel weak. I sway, willing to let my heart calm, and embrace some sort of peace.
"Xavier, call Carlotta please. Tell her it's time." I hear King say quietly behind me.
His voice knocks me out of my internal meditation and, slightly embarrassed, I turn, ready to call it a night.
"Well gentleman, thank you for joining me on that adventure, but I'm about to head out. I'm sorry you had to see me break down so bad, but, a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do sometimes." I clear my throat, ignoring their amused stares. "I hope you all can understand, and… and don't hold it against me."
The body guards' lips twitch as if they're trying to hide back a grin, and they shuffle slightly, folding their arms and staring ahead stoically. King's amused grin turns into a full on smile that he tries to cover up by bringing up a hand to rub against his lips as he tilts his head, regarding me through narrowed eyes. The look is so sexy that my heart begins that stupid racing it was doing this morning on the trail.
I'm not sure how I'm not dead in the floor of exhaustion yet, honestly.
King remains silent as he continues to regard me, patiently. I roll my lips, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"So, let me know when the trial is, and I'll come support, testify, whatever you need." My eyes flit down his body for truly the first time. He's rumpled, and smeared with blood on one of his sleeves. Concerned, my eyes narrow as I walk to him, pressing my hands into his torso and ribs, searching and rubbing for any injuries.
"What are you doing?" King asks, grinning down at me.
"I'm checking to make sure you're okay," I say. "I was in that limo for a really long time. I can't imagine in that whole time Christopher didn't get a hit or two in."
"Oh baby, don't underestimate me like that. The fucker was weak." King's eyes flash as I look up at him, surprised by his arrogant admission. "And you don't have to worry about a trial, it's handled."
"It's handled?" I wrinkle my nose at him, pulling my hands away. "You sound like Olivia Pope."
His eye brow arches. "Who?"
"Only the greatest show ever. President and political handler has an affair. That type of thing," I mutter, turning to grab my bag from one of the guards, but he won't let me have it. "Excuse me, give me my bag!" I say sternly. But he looks ahead, not acknowledging me.
King steps into me, making my attention focus on him. "Come on, baby, let's get you a drink. I'll take you where you need to go. You don't need to drive after the day you had," King says softly, turning me by my shoulders and putting his arm around me. He walks me to the elevators and we get in, headed down .
"Oh." I deflate, feeling a rush of gratefulness at the prospect of having help, because I'm so tired that I know I'm going to crash later. "A drink would be nice. A good vodka cranberry sounds so wonderful, actually. and then a soft bed to sleep in," I breathe. Leaning my head against the elevator wall we stay silent. Slowly remembering my behavior, I feel heat creep up my neck. "You think I'm absolutely crazy now, don't you?"
King lets out an exhale. "You're good. Sooo good, sweet thing. So beautiful in your rage."
I bite back a grin, men are so predictable.
Until they're not.
"So, where are you taking me?" I tease as we make our way down the hallway. I don't flinch when he puts his arm around my shoulder.
"Well, I'm driving your car to the bar so you don't have to. There's a place on the East side that's nice. Has crunchy peanuts."
My eye's widen. "Ohhh, I love nuts," I gush, digging out my car keys and handing them to him, pulling back at the last second. " You sure you know how to drive?" My eyebrow arches. "Don't look at me like that, I have yet to see you behind the wheel of a vehicle." I smile at him, blushing as he reaches up and brushes his knuckles down my cheek.
He's been extremely open in his affection tonight, and butterflies erupt in my tummy, making me off kilter for a moment. I distract myself by hitting the elevator button to the ground floor.
I hand him the keys and listen to him tell me about how he used to race with some famous nascar drivers. And you know what, by the time he pulls up to the bar and I fall out the passenger seat of my car on a shuddering breath, thanking God for life, I believe him.
He's never driving me around ever again.