Page 56 of Throttle

I acknowledge his buddy. “Get lost.”

As soon as Hush lowers his bat, the guy doesn't waste a moment and scurries down the hall toward the stairs. We don’t have to worry about him running his mouth to the heat. They got more drugs on them than a pharmacy.

With a firm grip on Jasper's shirt, which has black stains, I hoist him up, evading any knowledge of the mysterious substance, and guide him out of the building toward the rear of the complex.

I'm not surprised when I realize there are no security cameras. Can’t have drug deals being recorded.

I discard him like trash, resulting in him tripping and falling into the dirt.

“Please, bro, I—I’m sorry. I won’t bother her again, I promise. Let’s forget about this and go our separate ways. I’ll even move out. Find another apartment. Dude, please. Just don’t hurt me.” His sobs are violent as he struggles to breathe.

I glance back at Hush, confirming he's on guard, and draw my weapon, aiming at Jasper’s chest.

“No! Fuck—”

BAM.

And just like that—gone. Getting rid of people akin to him would improve this world.

I leave his body on the ground, blood flowing from the gunshot wound. My guess was, he doesn’t have anyone to miss him.

As I pass by, I touch Hush's shoulder before we both depart.

Like I said, I’d do anything for Tequila.

NINETEEN

Tequila

Am I classified as a horrible individual? To having knowledge of his wrongdoings. No. Those men are the awful ones. Yet I cannot feign ignorance of what occurs.

Throttle's actions became clear, as Jasper had not been lurking around my place for a week. And the painted carpet with blood spots is a dead giveaway. Sadly, it will go unnoticed.

I didn't bother asking him, since he wouldn't tell me, anyway. It was an unspoken rule. Club business. Although, this involved me, not the Chains. They trained me to look the other way and not ask questions.

I’m glad he’s gone. He won’t be around to harass me anymore. I regret not going to Throttle initially, but this will have to do. Being the reason for someone else’s death should disgust me, yet this doesn’t, and I am selfish because of it.

“Damn. How did you shoot me so fast?”

“If you can’t keep up, you shouldn’t be playing with us big boys.” I snicker, keeping my finger near the trigger button. As a kid, I played enough video games with my brother. You never get lazy with fire.

I look at Throttle, who is sitting beside me with our backs facing the bed. With every key he presses, his muscles twitch and the veins subtly pulse. I want to express gratitude to his dirt bike for giving such remarkable arms. When did forearm veins become so alluring? Watching them on Throttle, handling his PlayStation controller, has me imagining my tongue licking across.

I guess we reached a truce after the apartment drama. It was based on his compromise. Though, being watched and protected like royalty was far from.

Our constant cycle of loving and hating each other was becoming the new normal. I was noticing the sexual tension. The way his eyes burn with lust, I’m no idiot.

“Ha! Payback’s a bitch,” he yells, jolting me back to real time. He only beat me because I was gawking at him.

“Whatever. Lucky shot.” I drop my controller, stretching back with a yawn.

I love nights like these when hours become irrelevant. Temporarily forgetting reality.

I catch him looking at my chest, and the skin under my top ignites to fire inches away from him. I shut my sweater when he clenches his jaw. Not because I want him to stop, but we didn’t need added fuel to the flames.

Sometimes he gazes at me with a longing that consumes me, but other times I’m just a girl to fill the gaps between his other affairs. Though he hasn’t been with another woman since I saw him in his room with one.

Once he gets the message, he turns away, popping a starburst in his mouth. I watch as he glides his tongue across his lip. I make myself turn my gaze elsewhere in search of a distraction.

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