Chapter 8
Xander
Ineeded to get out of there before I murdered a man in front of everyone.
I’m a fucking idiot.
Worse.
I’m a fucking idiot who’s obsessed with a woman that’s spoken all of forty-six words to me.
It was a bad idea approaching her.
Watching her dance was torturous enough. But interacting with her? Even more so.
The smell of her vanilla perfume, her sweet voice addressing me—that awoke something dangerous in me that’s been cold, dead, and kept under control for a long time.
And what I’m about to do makes me even more idiotic. Reckless. But my body is running on autopilot.
I stride down the stairs of the lounge, palming her car key in my pocket to make sure it’s still there. Logically, I know this could end badly. But the irrational—the I-will-let-nothing-get-in-my-way side—has taken control.
I force open the back door a little too hard, pushing Jayden out of the way. He grunts as the door makes impact with the side of his body.
“Fuck,” he whispers sharply.
Without looking back, I beeline it towards the car park where I know she leaves her car.
Unlocking the car, I pull the lever in the bottom of the driver's seat, popping the bonnet open. I rush over to my car, grabbing a hammer from the boot before I make my way back over to Camila’s.
I don’t know what the fuck has come over me to make me do this, but I need to find a way to get closer to her.
I can’t be reckless about this; she needs to know there’s something wrong with her car. Not that it’ll even start, but the last thing I want to do is put her in danger.
She needs to know that I’m doing this for her safety. I’m doing this for her.
I pull open the bonnet and pelt the hammer into the car battery. A small amount of smoke hisses out of the machine, creating a burning smell. I wait until the smoke has stopped before shutting the bonnet again.
She brushed me off tonight. Because I’m ‘her boss’.
Little does she know I’d burn this entire fucking club down if it meant a chance at getting to know her.
Which is why she’ll have no choice but to get in my car tonight, so I can drive her home safely. And the day after, I’ll have a new car delivered to her front door.
I lean my forehead against the side of her car, trying to get my breathing under control.
“Fuck.” I hit my palm against the piece of metal.
What is happening to me?
I haven’t acted like this over anything in my life. This is much stronger than me, and I can’t stop it.
Her heady sweet scent lingers in my nose.
I remember the heat of her body so close to mine.
It took everything in me not to take her away from every fucking set of prying eyes in that lounge right there and then.
She might think she’s safe from the ogling, but I see it.
I see the way they all look at her. Like she’s a piece of candy they can all get a lick of.
And I don’t like that one bit.
She doesn’t belong there. She doesn’t deserve to be looked at as a piece of ass and nothing more.
The way she moves has no place at DL. She was born for something greater; I can feel it.
My stomach tightens as I look over to the bonnet, no more smoke emerging from the gaps.
I shouldn’t have done that.
My Angel deserves a better car. She shouldn’t be driving this piece of junk around.
If her eventually hating me for this means that I had a chance of being close to her, then so be it.
I drop the key under the car, not too far, leaving it still visible for her.
Charging back towards my car, I get in and slam the door.
It’s too late to get this under control, and I know it.
I’m such a fucking idiot.