13. Daire
THIRTEEN
daire
Phase One
PATIENCE WAS NOT something I possessed, and waiting a couple of days until Gavin had a second date with that actor only spiked my temper with the need for revenge.
I couldn’t believe I’d been able to wait this long without going after that shithead Joey and smashing more than just his face this time, but East and Donovan knew me too well and hadn’t left me alone while they got a plan—and the rest of the guys—together.
“Ugh, I can’t believe they’re letting this trash in here,” West muttered as we watched Joey, Doug and Carl, take up residence at a VIP table at one of our favorite nightclubs, Kyanite, on Wednesday night.
The smug looks on their faces as they looked down on those outside their roped-off area wouldn’t be there for long.
Still, my body was wound tight, vibrating with rage.
“They’re only here as a favor to us, and it’ll be the last time they set foot in this place,” East said.
Preston frowned from where he sat lounged on a velvet couch in our own roped-off section. “They don’t think it’s suspicious they got plucked out of line and handed a VIP spot?”
“Social climbers like that?” Travis snorted. “They beg for special attention every time they come here, so trust me, they jumped at the chance to make everyone else feel like a peasant.”
“I am so ready for this.” West rubbed his hands in anticipation. “When do the models get here?”
Donovan checked his phone, and a sly smile spread over his lips. “Speak of the devil. They just arrived.”
Phase one consisted of enlisting a few of Donovan’s fellow models to get the attention of the fuckwads and get invited into their VIP. From there, the plan was on .
“God, these guys are such idiots.” Travis shook his head as a couple of ridiculously attractive guys made their way into the club, making sure to pass by Joey’s table and wink.
True to sleazebag form, Joey shot to his feet, immediately inviting Donovan’s friends to join them for drinks—and probably to drool all over them.
Donovan must’ve been paying them a shit-ton.
“The fact that they’re idiots is why this plan works,” East said.
I watched the scene unfolding before me from the shadows where I sat. Not that they had any idea. Joey and his friends were still walking around Astor as if they were smarter than us, as if they didn’t have a guillotine hanging over their heads.
Little did they know, that blade was about to drop.
“We gonna do this or sit here and sing ‘Kumbaya’ all night?” I said.
“Patience, Grasshopper.” East moved in beside me, handing me a shot. “This is all part of the plan. Lulling them into a false sense of security.”
“This is making me want to vomit.”
“Drink your shot and behave. You’ll get your turn soon enough.”
I threw back the Liquid Cocaine shot and slammed the glass down on the table. Usually I’d tell East to fuck off with his orders, but tonight I was willing to follow along, since what was about to happen would make all this waiting worth it.
“Do you think they’re even a little bit suspicious?” Preston said, shifting his eyes between the losers at the bar and Donovan. “Your friends are way out of their league.”
“They’re also great actors.” Donovan winked.
“Anyone else still find it weird when Preston openly checks out a guy?” Travis held his hands out and did a turn. “Especially when I’m right here.”
Preston threw the straw in his drink at Travis’s head, making him laugh, and the sound grated on my last nerve. “Can you shut the fuck up? We’re not here to have a good time.”
Travis rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”
“There’s my cue,” East said as one of Donovan’s friends smoothed a hand over Joey’s shoulder and twirled a finger through the back of his hair.
You couldn’t have paid me enough to touch that piece of shit.
Scratch that—I’d touch him for free, but not in any way he’d enjoy.
East’s lip curled into a devious grin, and as he set off through the crowd of clubgoers, I got to my feet and moved to the edge of our VIP area.
My eyes narrowed on the haughty set of East’s shoulders as he crossed the main floor, and when he came to the far end of the bar and crooked a finger at the bartender, I could feel the vein in my temple begin to throb.
This was the most important part of the whole plan. If this didn’t go our way, we were fucked. But if anyone could pull it off, it was East.
My fingers balled into a fist at my side as I watched the two chat back and forth. The bartender nodded at whatever East was saying, then an exchange of cash was made and the plan was put into place.
The bartender moved away then, going back to making drinks for the crowd gathered at the bar, as East weaved his way back through the crowds.
None of us asked for confirmation of the task he’d set out to do.
The smug look on his face was answer enough.
So when the DJ started playing a pulse-pounding favorite, the guys started to dance in celebration while I kept my eyes trained on the target.
Joey with an arm wrapped around one of the models, while another whispered some bullshit lie to Doug the dick.
It wasn’t until the bartender arrived in front of Carl with a tray of drinks—three shots for the big men on campus, and three vodka sodas for the ever-conscious-of-their-weight models—that I felt a feral smile curl my lip.
It was the perfect plan, really.
So simple.
The three assholes threw back their shots.
Now it was only a matter of time.
And suddenly, I had all the patience in the world.
Phase Two
THE BUZZ OF the tattoo gun hummed, and with every dot of ink into Joey’s skin, a curl of satisfaction settled in the pit of my stomach.
Not enough to soothe the beast that wanted to come out.
But watching a professional tattoo artist freestyle a design of our choice on his neck was fucking priceless.
“Dude, what’s with the scowl?” Travis asked. “I figured this would be the part you’d be all shits and giggles over. You know, decorating this fucker’s face?”
“Maybe if it was with my fist.”
Travis crossed his arms, scrunching his nose up as he peered down at the limp dick between us.
“You already did that. Plus, the goal here is to make them suffer, not us. If you go to jail, he wins.”
“If I kill him, he dies.”
“I don’t know if you’re joking or?—”
“He touched Gavin. He deserves anything he gets.”
“Truuue, which is why he’s getting a reminder of what he is tattooed on his neck.” Travis’s grin was downright devious as he peered over the shoulder of Simone, who was wielding the guillotine tonight. “It’s uncanny how real that looks.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen a few of them in my time,” she replied. “But I do appreciate your offer to have a lifelike piece to study.”
“You offered?” West looked Travis over and shook his head. “What am I saying, of course you did.”
“Yeah, but then I thought of the oozing genital warts she was gonna add to the image and thought better of it.” Travis reached down and rubbed between his thighs. “Ain’t no one messing with this work of art.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I glared at Travis’s hand. “Do you have to make everything about your dick?”
“No. But we’re literally tattooing dicks on Joey and his idiot friends’ faces. I figured that would at least get a ha-de-ha-ha out of you. Jesus, Daire, lighten up.”
I wished it were that easy. But the longer we stood here, the more annoyed I got, and the only thing that would make me feel better would be when Joey finally woke up and saw what he got for messing with us—messing with Gavin.
I shot Travis the finger and turned to see East over by the window of the shop, a phone to his ear as he nodded and pointed at Preston, who was busy scribbling something down on a piece of paper.
Donovan stood at the front door keeping guard.
The way we’d all come together to pull this plan off did make me feel a little fucking ha-de-ha—like I was part of something bigger than just myself.
East ended his call and looked over at the three bodies laid out on tables between us, two of which were waiting for their turn under the gun. To some that might’ve seemed slightly terrifying, to me it felt…cathartic. It’s not like they were dead, just passed the fuck out.
“Right.” Simone let out a sigh. “That’s one down. Which one’s next?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, walking over to East. “They’re all getting one.”
She grinned. “Damn, I should’ve done this to my cheating ex. You guys are vicious.”
“They deserve it.”
Joey groaned and struggled to open his eyes, and Travis checked the zip tie at his wrists. “It’s not time to wake up, asshole. Night-night.”
As Joey’s eyes fell shut, West and Donovan moved over to the other two to keep watch, as Simone applied fresh dicks—the same as Joey’s—to their necks. We needed to make sure they stayed passed out if we were to have a hope in hell of moving them to the next phase.
Because this wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.
“What’s the ETA on Harry?” I said as East casually lounged back in an armchair.
“He’s almost here. Scotty’s about five minutes away.”
“You think he can manage to pull this off?”
“I think that Harry is a bigger criminal than all of us.”
“That a yes?”
“It wasn’t a no.”
I paced back and forth, my nerves strung tight, and on my third or fourth pass, East kicked at my ankle, earning him a death stare.
“I’m getting motion sickness watching you. Chill the fuck out, or go get something to drink.”
“I don’t need a drink. I need to finish this.”
“And we will. But you need to calm down. We planned this, and if you go rogue, it will ruin everything.”
Preston eyed me from his spot by the door. “We’ve got this. For Gavin.”
I nodded, finally feeling some sort of purpose in my life, and that purpose was to teach Joey and his bullying friends a lesson…
For Gavin.
Phase Three
ALONG WITH DONOVAN, I helped load Carl into the Sprinter after he’d gotten his own special neck treatment, though I was tempted to throw him in the gutter.