Belladonna (Billionaire Boys Club #1)

Chapter 31

                       Lucas:

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Get a grip, you idiot.

What the fuck was I thinking?

But that's just it. Isn't it?

I wasn't.

I wasn't thinking at all.

I heard the glass break and then her sharp intake of breath and then I was there.

At her side.

Without hesitation.

Stupid.

She cut herself on a fucking shard of glass. That she dumbly tried to pick up.

It's not like she broke an arm or a leg.

Then why are you so frustrated?

Oh. Right. Because you were angry.

At the fucking glass.

Yes. I was fucking angered by the glass that cut her.

Glass isn't even alive. It's a fucking inanimate object.

And yet it earned my wrath all the same.

Dio, what is wrong with me?

.....No.

No.

Not, what is wrong with me.

What is wrong with her?

What is she playing at?

Getting inside my head like this?

All the time.

I knew it. I knew she'd be no good. I knew it from the moment I met her. She would be trouble for me. And now my thoughts are coming back to bite me in the ass.

God, she's irritating.

Always finding a way to get under my skin.

That's never happened before.

No one can ever get me riled up.

Maybe that's because no one challenges you.

Not like she does.

No one has ever or would ever dare to go against me. To talk back to me. To speak to me with such contempt.

This is all her fault.

I need to put a stop to this.

This uneasy feeling that has began to fester inside of me. It's awful.

I hate it.

It needs to go.

The moonlight shines through my windows and spills onto the floor of my bedroom that I've been pacing for the past half hour.

Thoughts of the dark haired menace next door clawing at the corners of my brain.

Get out of my head, you Little Devil.

I need a fucking distraction.

Snatching my phone from where I had thrown it onto my bed, I pull up my contacts.

Bringing the device to my ear, I listen to it ring.

Three times.

Four times.

Five.

"What the fuck do you want?" My best friend answers on the sixth irritating noise.

"Get up. We're going to the tracks."