Chapter 21
ERYX
When Caine had told me he saw her talking to Dean, I didn’t want to believe it.
How could she fall for his tricks? He’s as vile as they come.
He might be able to slither his way through and mask who he is to everyone else, but I know exactly who he is, and I thought she would see right through his facade.
I was wrong.
Because why the fuck did she have coffee with him.
Why was she dressed in that piece of red fabric she calls a dress, that hugged her body just right?
Why was she letting him touch any part of her?
Letting his eyes roam over my body? It’s my name who was spilling so beautifully from her lips just a few nights ago. And now she thinks he can have a taste?
I warned her what would happen if she saw him again. But like the brat that she is, she disobeyed me. She just loves to test me.
I concocted a plan. Caine and Roman my accomplices.
I’d been sitting at the bar watching her with him. Sharing laughs and small conversation. I was already livid seeing them together, but when I seen him slip something in her drink I knew I was going to make him pay.
My intention when I followed her was to warn her. She had already had three glasses, so that fourth one would have had her completely incoherent. But one look at her and I needed to be near her.
Like the good girl she is, she listened and left. I told her a car would be waiting for her. That car being Roman. I had him stop and get her a snack and some electrolytes to help her sober up a little bit.
She wasn’t expecting me to be here waiting for her, and as badly as I wanted her, I wasn’t about to take advantage.
Like I told her. When I finally had her, fully, she would be on her knees.
I left her needy and went to meet up with Caine and Roman.
I had to send my second message of the night. I had Caine pick up a package for me.
I make my way down through the courtyard and out back towards the overlook where we first hung out. Its my favorite place, and its secluded enough to let me work in peace without getting interrupted.
I come up behind them, and around to the front where they have him tied and blindfolded. “Hey buddy, you have a date?” I tap his cheek causing him to stir, before pulling the blindfold off and rip the duct tape from his mouth.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, do you have any idea who my father is?”
Why do rich white boys always think throwing daddy’s name around will bring any fear to me?
“I don’t give a shit who your daddy is Dean. As a matter of fact, since we want to throw dads around, maybe you’ve heard of mine? Viktor Ivanov?”
I see the moment realization crosses his face. “So I’m sure you must know who I am, but unlike you, I don’t need my father to fight my battles for me.” I crack my knuckles, then my neck. “I think the name Mogily, has a lot more power behind it, don’t you?”
That really gets him trembling. Everyone has either heard the rumors or seen me in action first hand. They know what I’m capable of.
“See, I’ve been hearing some things about you Dean. And after tonight… well I’m inclined to believe them.”
“Whatever you heard, it’s not true—they’re lying.” He begins shaking. Fucking coward.
“Oh, so you know of the rumors too? I mean why else would you be denying them? See I heard, you have trouble with—” I motion towards his crotch, “And the only way you can get any is by drugging your dates, cause come on now, it’s a lot easier to have your way if they aren’t fighting you, right?”
“Those bitches wanted it.”
Tsk Tsk. “See what we’re not going to do, is call those women bitches, nor will we imply any one of them willingly wanted you anywhere near them.”
I plant my doc marten boot between his legs, applying some pressure. This makes him wince.
“You signed your death certificate when you went after my girl. When you tried drugging. My. Girl.” I apply more pressure and Roman hands me his switch blade.
“Wh—what—your girl? Stassi?”
I crouch down and wrap my hand around his throat. “You don’t get to say her name. You thought you could just have your way with her? Make her another notch on your belt?”
“She never said anything about you, how was I supposed to know you were together?”
That makes me laugh, “Well, you know now, don’t you Dean?” I bring the blade to his to his face. The urge to carve out his eyes from simply looking at her is strong.
“This pretty face seems to keep the women you trick comfortable huh? They look at you, and probably think you’re a trustworthy man.
But oh how wrong they would be. Let’s change that shall we?
Let’s make the outside match the inside.
” I take the blade and slice down his cheek.
Deep enough that it will scar, but won’t require stitches.
“What the fuck?!”
I motion to my brother and Caine to hold him down.
We know each other so well I don’t have to say the words they just know.
I grab hold of Dean’s right hand, his dominant hand.
The hand that ranked down her body. The hand placed on the small of her back as he led her to their table.
The hand that touched hers. That helped her in and out of his gaudy car.
The hand that no doubt rested on her leg.
I trace the tip of the knife over his fingers, edging him for what’s to come.
“Wa—wait, please—let’s—let’s talk about this.” He begs at me, but I’m no God, and I won’t answer his prayer.
“Lets make sure you know to not touch what doesn’t belong to you ever again.” I grab his hand in mine, holding one finger at a time. “Never,” Snap. “Touch,” Snap. “What doesn’t,” Snap. “Belong to you,” Snap. “Ever,” Snap. “Again!” with the last word I stab the switch blade through his hand.
He tries to yell in pain but Caine has his hand on top of his mouth muffling his scream. I look down and see the bastard pissed himself. Pussy.
“Now, you’re goin to leave her and every other girl alone, or next time,” I remove the knife from his hand and aim it at his crotch. “I’ll do more than break your fucking hand. Delete her number, ignore her in class, better yet, ask for a class transfer. You don’t breath the same air as her.”
He continues to whimper like a little bitch. “Tell me you understand.” He begins nodding profusely, “Your words Dean, let me hear you say you understand.”
“Ye—yes! Yes,! I understand.”
I tap the knife against his bleeding cheek. “Good boy.”