VICIOUS

I want you. (28.)

When I get out of my car, Thomas drives past me, ignoring me. I don't even bother to look at him. Fucking asshole. I still don't see how he doesn't believe me. Does he really think I would have sex with the person I hate? The person who I despise? And even more important: the person who knows nothing about me? 

I would be really disappointed in myself if I had sex with Brandon for my own pleasure. Luckily, I'm not going to do it for my pleasure and neither for Brandon's. I'm going to do it so I can finally fucking hurt that motherfucker. Brandon is the one person that I can't stand. I hate people, but it's even worse when he's around me. 

I walk to my room and get in. I need a plan to figure out what I'm going to do. Step by step and every detail must be explained. I don't know what Brandon's reaction to all of this is going to be, but let's hope he just likes it and that he doesn't do or say anything out of context. 

I grab my phone and sit down on the bed. I need to text Brandon first, telling him that I want to talk to him. Telling him I still want information. I take a look at the time. 4 PM. If I want everything to go well, I need to get him drunk. 

Whiskey will do the job.

My jeans stick to my legs and my shirt starts to smell due to the heavy rainfall. I feel gross. I sigh and take off my clothes, preparing to take a shower. I wrap one of the towels around me and walk into the bathroom. The mirror's reflection shows me that I look like shit. I look like a zombie and I genuinely hoped it wouldn't get to that point. But well, here I am now. 

The wound on my leg doesn't help either. It still hurts. The skin looks red and at night it sometimes starts bleeding again. The stitches were supposed to prevent that from happening and I tried to stitch it up again. However, it hurt so much when I tried, I had to stop and leave it like that. Now I do it bit by bit. 

Walking still hurts like a fucking bitch. If I fully lean on my leg, it feels like I get stabbed over and over again. Moving around got easier, but I still try to take things slow. 

I turn on the shower and lay my towel on one of the cabinets. When the water gets warm I step inside. 

..................................................................................................................................................

I get dressed again after 30 minutes. Not wanting to look like I'm onto something, I put on some normal clothes. If I walk into Brandon's office wearing a short dress, he definitely knows that I'm up to no good and he'll probably tell me to fuck off. I comb my hair and try to look okay. I just want to get this over with. 

I take the charger out of my phone and start texting Brandon. 

Taylor: I need to talk to you. 

He replies after a few minutes. 

Brandon: Why? 

Taylor: I think you know exactly why. I'll be in your office in ten minutes. Shall I bring something to drink?

Brandon: Whatever. I'll see you in ten.

With a grin, I look at the screen of my phone. The first step is done. The second step is talking to him and the third.. is going to be bloody. 

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I walk to Brandon's office ten minutes later, right on time. For the second time this day, I'm going to his office. The first time was for business, this time it's for revenge because of the first time. 

I can feel the cold dagger sitting on the inside of my jacket. I need to make sure Brandon doesn't see the weapon, since he will kill me if he does. He's clever and I'm sure he'll understand immediately what I'm up to. 

I'm carrying a bottle of whiskey in my right hand. I have no idea how many shots it takes to get him drunk, but hopefully it's fast. I'm not a patient person and waiting on hurting someone is not something I like to do. 

I walk in and Brandon sits in the exact same position as this morning: smoking a cigarette with a book in his hand that covers his face. 

''Here you are again,'' He says from behind his book. ''I knew you'd come back to daddy.'' 

My eyes widen at that last word and I immediately want to turn around, get back to my room to pack my shit and get out of here. This just proves that Brandon genuinely thinks that he's all that. The urge to throw up on his expensive carpet is getting big. Jesus Christ, this man is gross. 

He chuckles at my sight and his eyes look at me from the top of his book. 

''I wanted to talk about what happened today,'' I say, ignoring his unnecessary comment. I sit down in one of the chairs and try to concentrate on the desk in front of me, not wanting to lock eyes with him. He gets up from his chair and walks over to the bookshelf behind me. He puts the book back to the place it was at first, but doesn't bother to walk back to his seat. 

Oh God, I'm going to hate myself after all of this. I already hate myself, but it'll be worse when I return to Vicious and think about all of the shit I did here. 

''I still need information,'' I continue. ''But we got interrupted by someone.'' I look over my shoulder, at Brandon. Not trusting him, I need to know if he's secretly trying to hurt me or something. 

''So, you were thinking I'd still give it to you?'' A scoff leaves his mouth. 

''I'm not stupid,'' I respond. ''I know you want something for it in return.'' I turn my head back to the chair he's supposed to sit in. 

This is something I never expected myself to hope for. But please, let him say sex. This is probably the only way I could get to the one thing that's important to him. It's gross. Disgusting. I know. It's not like I like or want to do this. 

''You're right,'' He says. His footsteps are getting closer and he stops walking when he's behind me. His hands touch my shoulders and he starts massaging me, making me freeze for a moment. ''But the only thing I can think of is you.'' 

''Excuse me?'' I have to act dumb. I turn my head to look at him. If he knows that I'm happy with this answer, he won't do it. He'll stop and tell me to fuck off.  

''You heard me,'' He continues. ''I want you. You're so fierce and strong. Well, at least that's what I see. And I've always wondered how that would be between the sheets...'' 

I want to punch him so hard right now. 

''All of the ladies I've done it with, were so.. submissive,'' He openly admits. ''Never rough. Even the ones I expected to be like that. The only one who always rejects me, is you.'' 

His hands slide off my shoulders and he finally walks back to his seat. He sits down and smirks, looking at me. 

''So what's it going to be? Nothing, or we both give something so that we can get what we want? The choice is yours.'' He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, waiting for me to answer his question. 

This part was easier than I thought. I expected him to be tough, not giving in. Maybe he'd even question me about Thomas and what happened between us. 

But he basically told me what I wanted to happen. 

''We'll do it.''