Page 119 of Petite Fleur

Is he even going to ask who I am or why I’m here?

Do these men have no sense of self-preservation?

Mark, one of the four, jogs up to Maeve and I as soon as we walk through the door and I close it behind me, but he’s not looking at me, he’s looking at Maeve and her leash.

He admires her for a moment before grinning at me, a sickening and annoying grin that makes me thankful that I’m not here to make friends. “I’ve been trying to get this little firecracker to come to one of our parties for years.” He admits.

When he grabs onto her leash, I snatch his hand and bend his wrist so harshly that he hisses in pain. “Mine.” I snap.

Nobody touches my Maeve.

It takes almost no effort to spike these guys' drinks, making me nearly laugh at how idiotic they are.

Again, do they have no sense of self preservation?

All I had to do was pretend to fuck up the classic party trick of making your beer fizz over, and they were spiked. I smacked the bottom of the bottle of beer I’d grabbed myself onto the topof theirs, dropping a little pill in their drink while mine foamed over and made a mess on the floor.

Nobody questioned why their drink tastes different or why I’ve repeated the same trick on every player.

Idiots.

But I must admit, it feels like a mistake bringing Maeve here.

She was supposed to come to see what I do and who I am, but it’s somehow turned into these assholes trying to swarm her every chance they get.

Several have grabbed her leash and two of them have tried to grab her. I have to admit, it’s getting increasingly difficult to correct their behavior without risking being thrown out of their idiotic party.

I’m talking to one of the players when I feel Maeve tug on my shirt and my focus is immediately on her. My focus will always be her. “Yes, ma fleur?” I ask quietly.

I turn and cup her cheek, seeing her looking both furious and saddened, I hate this. I hate that I’ve caused this.

She looks over to the couch, her focus on the woman half passed out. “Can I check on her? I think she’s sick.” She asks.

Oh my sweet, sweet girl.

“Of course, my love, but she’s not sick, they’ve drugged her.” I explain quietly.

She gives me a short nod and rushes to the girl’s side as soon as I unhook her leash from my belt.

I’ll keep an eye on her, but I don’t think she’s going anywhere if she's with that girl.

“So how’d you get that one? I’ve been trying to hit it since freshman year. The bitch is a prude.” Mark says.

I clench my jaw so tightly that it hurts, forcing myself not to react in any way.

It’s fine, Leon, deal with him later.

Take it out on him when we’re home for daring to call my woman anything but an angel.

“She likes men, not boys, you’re not equipped for her needs.” I say with a fake smile.

I know how to make these idiot jocks sweat, they’re all egotistical maniacs with fragile egos and an embarrassing superiority complex.

They’re all about as shallow as a puddle in a crack in the sidewalk during a drought.

“Dick.” Mark says with a bark of laughter, but he sways heavily on his feet when he goes to punch me in the arm.

Good. That means the drugs should be kicking in and he’ll be out soon.

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