Page 51 of Hate Me

12

~Caleb~

I needed a fucking drink.

Or several.

I’d tried to make my way to King Manor after Caspian had just taken off without me like a bastard. But I’d come up against a shitload of resistance from his security. Even after insisting on speaking to Luke, himself, it hadn’t made a difference, I hadn’t been allowed through.

I was banned.

Cas was punishing me.

So much for hoping he would’ve at least missed me and wanted to talk things out.

He knew damn well that I didn’t have any connections here in Rossun anymore after the way I’d left and for how long I’d been gone too. I had nowhere to go except with him.

Now that was off the table, it was gonna be a hotel for me tonight.

Unless he was gonna take it further and have me turned away from a bunch of those too.

Usually when it came to the hotel route, I just had to avoid the ones owned by my parents, but this could be a lot harder. I might end up in a dive of a place for the next little while.

Kind of like the place I was at right now, intending to drink up a storm.

Haywire.

The newest nightclub in the City of Rossun.

It definitely had a sleazy element attached to it.

There was no dress code, no list, and no rules apparently.

It was open to everyone and a total free-for-all too.

People were literally getting it on over on the dancefloor as the slow jams boomed over the sound system. I even saw a guy getting a blowjob right there. There were two women spread out over the table of a booth as a bunch of guys did shots off their half-naked bodies, then sucked on their breasts. Another woman sat up at the end of the bar, her legs spread with no underwear on. Some guys out on the dancefloor were taking their fill and grabbing their dicks obscenely.

This wasn’t even a sex club. Jeez.

There was nothing erotic about it, it was just sleaze.

Right up its owner’s alley.

As I downed my scotch, then went to order another, a shadow fell across my vision.

I started, then turned to see the guy himself sliding onto a stool right beside me up at the bar.

“Damien,” I ground out.

“Long fucking time, Cal.”

I took him in.

A couple of years hadn’t changed him much at all.

His dark brown hair was still down to his collar and wild, those amber eyes still flamed with malice as his hulking form gave the stool he was perched on a run for its money. He was wearing a see-through tank that put his chiseled abs on display in a very overt way. And his black leather pants were so tight that they were doing the same with other parts of him too. Bold fucker.

“Long time, “ I agreed.

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