Page 130 of Savage Bosses

Aerica led me to the bar where she sat the glasses down on the bar-top. She turned to glare at me. I could see in her face she was steaming mad. I found her anger quite amusing.

She led me away from the crowd to an area by the bar wasn’t as loud. She placed both glasses on the bar top and turned her attention to me. I reached into my pocket for my wallet. I removed a single one hundred-dollar bill.

“There. That should cover the drinks.” I waved the Benjamin Franklin in her face. “You know, that dress makes you look like a whore.” I pushed the single, crisp C-note down into her ample cleavage.

I felt the sting before it even registered that she’s slapped me. The crack echoed in my ears as my head jerked to the side.Fuck! That shit hurt.She was too little to have that much strength in a slap.

“You hit me.” I spit the words out in disbelief. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Aerica stood firm, eyes ablaze, chest heaving. “Someone who doesn’t take shit from no fuckin’ body.” She removed the bill from the crack of her tits.

My fists clenched at my sides. It took every ounce of restraint not to hit her back, to put her in her place. “You just made a huge mistake,” I growled through gritted teeth. “You didn’t have any pockets and you have your tits out for all the men to look at them. Where else would I put it?”

Aerica didn’t flinch. She stood tall, watching me with contempt. Disappointment shone in her eyes. I recognized the look when my mother used to give it to me.

“You are really an asshole.” She didn’t shout it. She just glared daggers at me when she said it.

I turned on my heel and noticed a Black woman staring at our exchange from a few feet away. Did she know Aerica? The lady started coming toward us, and that was my cue to leave.

I pushed violently through the crowd, rage and humiliation pulsing through me. How dare she lay a hand on me! Me, Kyle Caldwell! I’ll make her regret that, if it’s the last thing I do. She wants to play with fire? Oh, I’ll burn her down to the ground. The nerve of her! I’ll deal with Ms. Aerica later. Right now I need to get Wes and get the hell out of his hellhole.

I checked my cell phone, hoping Ashley had answered my text.

Ashley: [Me and Wesley are at the bar near the deejay booth.]

I didn’t bother to answer the message. I scanned the room and made a beeline for the bar at the rear of the club.

I spotted a familiar mop of shaggy dark hair at the bar. Wes was chatting up some scantily clad blonde as he tossed back another shot. Fantastic. He’s a mess.

Storming over to him, I grabbed his shoulder roughly. “Let’s go, Wes. You’re wasted.”

He turned his bloodshot eyes, and grinned crookedly. “Kyyyyyle! Bro, what are you doing here? Have a drink with me.”

He shoves a shot glass at me. I smack it away in disgust.

“I didn’t come here to party. I came to take your drunk ass home so you can attempt to be a functional human at work.”

Wes grimaced. “It’s Friday night, no more work talk. I wanna parrr-tayyy.” He leaned in close, whiskey fumes overwhelming me. I was close enough to see the white powder on his nostrils. Not this again.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, Ashley, she’s around here somewhere.” He slurred.

“Let’s go find her.”

“Not right now.” He whispered to me with his whiskey breath. “Dude, I’m trying to hit that.” Wes motioned toward the blonde sitting at the bar next to him.

“You’re drunk and you’re high. Let’s go.”

“You go and live your boring life.”

“I will as soon as I get you home.” I said.

“I don’t want to go home. I live in our parent’s house. It’s too many memories.”

“It’s good memories. But fine, I’m going to sell the house.”

“I’m not like you. I have feelings. How can you just go on like mom and dad aren’t dead? We’re fucking orphans.”

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