Page 60 of One of Them

And that was that. From that point on, we remained quiet. Each caught in their web of thoughts. The drive back could be summarized as a series of rapid speeding, occasional overtaking, and lots of curses.

Rap music fueled Maxim’s mood, causing his brother to roll his eyes at the choice. I, for once, appreciated the genre. Raw emotions hid in the words of the songs. In some ways, I related to the lyrics.

Enzo’s powerful brew helped restore the energy I still lacked. After the third cup, I fought the urge to sing along. Luckily, the Galkin men were spared my musical talents, since I wasn’t familiar with the lyrics.

The display on the dashboard cast light on the driver. Maxim handheld the steering wheel firmly while he leaned against the center console, drumming his fingers to the rhythm. He wore casual clothing, a change from his usual suit. Dark jeans with a black V-neck t-shirt. Topped with a leather jacket. Insert the tattoos, he was a wet dream.Mine.

What if that’s all he was?

The aftertaste of a dream you chase night after night to experience the high. You prolong the inevitable and hang on, but in the morning it’s gone, and you are left to deal with the reality of the day.

I’ll cope regardless, but for the first time, I imagined theifs, and they didn’t scare me.

So once more, I longed for his gaze. For the intensity his attention brought.

Why did it leave me wanting more?

I sat higher in the seat, wiping the imaginary drool from the corner of my mouth before I got called out for ogling.

When we approached a gas station, I collectively decided to stop. Luka appreciated the suggestion. The man could eat every hour of the day.

When he disappeared deep into the store, I headed for the bathroom, and on the way back, I picked out a pastry to balance out the coffee I consumed.

Whilst waiting in line at the register, I glanced over my shoulder, aware of his proximity. Through the glass storefront, I admired Maxim, still rooted in the parking lot in his signature pose, leaning against the hood of his car, his ankles crossed.

Watching me. Wish granted.

I could see the appeal and the confidence his attention gave. I knew why women craved it, how they dreamed of having someone’s entire world revolve around them.

Not just anyone’s. A man of his age, maturity, and position, with that much power. Someone who could pick and choose from the masses, rarely coming back for a second time.

Yet, he chose you. Repeatedly. The special one.

I knew he could give me that. Any of these gangsters could. But that wasn’t me.

It wasn’t power I needed. I wanted the raw, the ugly, and everything in between. Because I knew that side existed in all of us, and I refused

to hide it.

I craved the competitiveness, the thrill, and the excitement it brought. I wanted to be pushed, challenged, and fight for what I earned. But above all, I wanted to choose someone for who they truly were, not for what they represented. Money, power, strength, status, all of it was fabricated.

You gained, you lost, but what of you remained?

With Maxim, though, maturity wasn’t part of the offer.

Laughter followed me out the door, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s so funny?”

I realized then that I’d let my mind wander. When I zoned in on his face, he blinked, and being who I was, my mouth spoke before my mind could assess. “You.”

Hiding the smile behind a bite of the gas station Danish, I joined him by the car.

He cocked his head and I silently begged whoever was listening to stop sending me all these thirst trap images.

A prolonged breath accompanied his actions as he hooked his hands behind my knees, bringing me closer.

Positioned between his thighs, I stared at him in anticipation, daring him to make a move.

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