Page 14 of Disturbed Lucidity

Turning to the two girls, still in the throes of ecstasy, I ordered, “Get the fuck out of here and go tend to my brothers.”

The girls quickly rushed from my room.

“Hey, Luc, what can I get you?”

“Whiskey,” I growled, taking a seat at the bar as I looked around the clubhouse. The place was winding down. Brothers shuffled off to their rooms with club girls giggling, knowing they had a place to sleep tonight. Spotting Pixie under the arm of Pinball, I smirked.

The girl was in for another rough ride tonight.

“Here ya go.”

Turning, I picked up the double shot of whiskey and downed it.

“Want another?”

“Keep ‘em coming.”

“Hey, Mouth.” Saint, my lieutenant, smiled, taking the stool next to me. “Can I get a beer?”

“Coming right up.” The brother nodded.

“You’re in a good mood,” I muttered when Mouth placed another shot of whiskey in front of me.

“Got some good news. You know that property you were talking about last month? The one that borders your land.”

“Yeah,” I said before downing another shot, motioning for another.

Saint continued, “Well, the place is up for sale.”

Side-eying my lieutenant, I drawled, “You don’t say?”

“Yep. Made the fucker an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

“Fucker still alive or do I have to wait for that shit to clear probate?”

“Let’s just say the old man is motivated to sell.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, throwing back another shot. “Get with Frost and settle it fast. I don’t want that fucker changing his mind.”

Getting to my feet, I grabbed the whiskey bottle and headed for my office. I was in no fucking mood for company tonight. I thought getting my dick wet should have made me more amiable, but all it had done was piss me off more.

Shutting the door behind me, I headed for my desk and sat. I didn’t bother with the lights.

What was the use?

Loneliness was a bitch.

The idea of being alone at my age wasn’t something that crossed my mind often. I had plenty of women to warm my bed when I wanted, but lately something was missing.

Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

Sometimes, when I was alone, was when I felt it the most.

Almost like an undercurrent of desire. Something persistent in the air, like an annoying fly that wouldn’t go away. Nothing I did seemed to quell the feeling. The longing for something more, something unattainable, just out of reach that eluded me.

The more I thought about it, the more it consumed me.

More.

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