10. SIMON
SIMON
ONE WEEK LATER
T hese past few weeks, so much has changed, yet so much has remained the same.
The overall result is that I now live in a house of gay romance.
Jules suddenly decided he liked dick and is fucking his step-nephew—not blood related—Kai, who also happens to be a guard, and a useless one.
The guy wouldn’t hurt a fly, but when he arrived he brought all the drama to our door, which was a nightmare.
And recently we had the arrival of Ivan, Dima and Lev’s cousin, who is next level crazy compared to the brothers.
He is now fucking Tyler, who is an architect that the brothers employed to build extra properties for the guards on the property.
From what I observed, Tyler didn’t have much of a choice whether he was with Ivan or not, and I have to hand it to Ivan. He’s persistent.
The key thing we can take from all this fuckery is that every single guy that has been brought into this family has caused trouble and blood to be spilt.
Kai was stabbed by old gang friends from his hometown and it caused a shitstorm.
I swear we are a magnet for drama. I’ve spent more time in the holding pen, also known as the torture chamber in the basement, in the past four months than I have in the past eleven years.
Anyway, all the Kai upset has come back to haunt us as his mom’s friend, who I guess you could also call his pseudo-stepfather, Tim, is now a problem for us all.
It's a long story, but Tim knows who we are, and he didn’t want Kai here.
Plus he’s a cop. But that neverending need to stick his nose into other people's business has led Tim to stalking Tyler, trying to get information on the family.
Blackmail. As you can imagine, it's gone down like a lead balloon with Ivan, who wants blood. And I’m down for it.
This is what happens when you get into relationships and I’m not happy for any of them.
They’re all loved up, happy, nosy assholes, who think they have won in life.
I think I’m the winner in this. I haven’t succumbed to any man or woman.
I’m my own person. And that should be celebrated.
Not even Carlos has managed to get any further with me.
But that may be down to him having issues in his own business and the disappearance of his brother.
I slipped up last week when we were interrogating Carlos’ men, looking for information on his brother, Enrico.
I couldn’t help it. Ivan was so blatantly flirting with him, and it caused a huge jealous rage to build inside of me that I’ve never experienced before.
I swear I was going to kill them both. I never should’ve done it, because my violent outburst has consequences, which remain unknown.
All I know is I ‘owe Carlos a favor.’ Fuck knows what that psycho will come up with.
In happier news, the properties will be finished in around two months and I cannot wait to have my own space.
At least I won’t have to share like the other losers do.
I’m sick of how every time I move around the mansion, I bump into one of the love struck idiots that my family have tied themselves to.
Seb is a chatty Kathy and fucking nosy. Aaron is a liability and a shit stirrer.
Kai is a shy guy who constantly has an array of bruises marring his skin, courtesy of his hickey kink he shares with that big dickhead, Jules.
Then there is Tyler, who is feisty and completely unaware of how much danger this family brings.
He’s screwing the golden retriever monster of the family, and still can’t see the signs.
He’s more concerned if Ivan has touched or tasted someone else's blood than the fact he’s a killer. The king of torture.
Then there is me, a little grumpy bitch who judges everything and everyone, while trying to dodge the sexy predator who turns up everywhere I go outside of this house.
It's infuriating. For weeks we’ve done this song and dance, since our kiss.
He barely even speaks to me, just watches and waits for any opportunity to try and rile me up, which is a frequent occurrence because even his breathing pisses me off.
Needing to burn off some energy and clear my head, I head into the home gym that Lev and Dima have on the ground floor.
Running is appealing to me today, maybe it's my subconscious telling me to run from everything around me.
Or maybe it's me running from my past. I keep dreaming about Leo, and it's freaking me out.
I never think about him. I just want him to fuck off.
The treadmill hums beneath me, steady, relentless, like a drum that won’t let me forget the rhythm.
My feet slap on the belt in an uneven sync, each step a reminder of the mental weight I’m carrying with me.
Lungs pulling in shallow bursts, my heart hammering against my ribs that feels too tight.
The sweaty, recycled air is stale, but I gulp it down.
Sweat beads on my forehead and drips down my temples, burning my eyes as it flows freely.
I blink hard and focus on the treadmill panel in front of me, the blinking red numbers, the incline ticking higher and the seconds crawling slowly.
I tell myself to think of nothing. No conversations, no memories, no him .
But thoughts leak in anyway, jagged and insistent, only half drowned by the sound of my feet.
I push harder. I turn the speed up and let the belt drag me into a flight. My head starts to clear as my chest burns. I’m pushing myself too hard, but can’t stop.
“Simon!” a shout roars through my ears, causing me to slightly stumble and quickly reach for the speed button to turn it down. I look over as Ivan walks over to me, concern on his face.
“You nearly made me fall off, Ivan.”
“Simon, you were seconds away from falling off anyway. What are you doing? You looked like you were going to pass out.”
I slow to a cool down walking pace and lift my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face. My head is fuzzy.
“Just trying to push myself.”
“Or kill yourself,” he says as he walks over to the weights. Ivan is a wall of muscle. He makes weight lifting look effortless.
“Don’t be dramatic. Where’s Tyler?”
“He’s upstairs. Moved him in here where I can keep an eye on him until D gives me the go ahead to end that fucking Timmy scum,” he says, lifting a weight in each hand, taking a turn on curling each weight with his arm. Veins pop out of his forearm and I can’t deny his attractiveness.
That's my problem. I need some action. I need a man.
“Tyler won’t be happy if he sees you looking at his man,” he chuckles, and I scoff.
“In your fucking dreams, Ivan. Only women for me.”
Ivan stops his reps and looks at me and we share a stare for a few seconds, and I want the ground to swallow me up. Does he see it too? He doesn’t say anything though. Just nods, smiles and focuses back on his workout.
“I’m out of here. Have a good workout,” I mutter before leaving, desperate to leave the room. The questioning eyes. What have I done to make anyone think I’m into men? This is Carlos’ fault, all the teasing and flirting in front of the guys. They think I’m the same.
And why the fuck do you care if they know, Simon? Fucking coward.
I need something. I need someone.
Screw it.