Page 1 of Little Devil

1

Xander

“You’re such a fucking loser, Xan!”

I wince at the sound of her insanely squeaky voice echoing through the otherwise silent house, quickly ducking for cover when she tosses her black stiletto across the entryway, aiming for my face.

Crazy ass bitch.

The smoking hot brunette whose name I’ve forgotten glares, bending over to snatch the other shoe from her foot. “What did you just call me?”

Fucking hell.

“Babe,” I say softly, lifting my hands up in an attempt to diffuse the unfortunate situation I’ve found myself in. “I said I was sorr–”

“But you’re not!” she screams, throwing her shoe at my chest. “You’re fucking laughing at me right now, asshole. You’re not sorry at all.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

Her nostrils flare and I pinch my lips together, figuring it’s safe to stalk towards her now that she’s out of weapons. I met this girl at Justin’s after party last night and it seems I’ve personally offended her by fucking her, accidentally allowing her to fall asleep in my bed at four in the morning, and then calling her the wrong name while asking her to leave just now.

To say she’s furious would be putting it lightly, and it’s taking everything I have not to burst out laughing.

Her eyes narrow like she knows it and I cringe, mentally bracing myself for what I know comes next. I open my mouth to offer some sort of peace offering before she starts screaming like a maniac, just like they always do, but then she shocks the shit out of me and sucker punches me in the face. I pull my head back and lift a hand up to my mouth, pulling it away to examine the blood coating my fingertips.

“Damn, girl,” I mutter, oddly impressed by the balls on this chick. “That fucking hurts.”

She grins, pleased with herself and the shock on my face, no doubt. With that, she snatches her heels from the floor and turns to leave, flipping me off over her shoulder while she swings the front door open.

“Nice meeting you, Xander Reid,” she calls, sarcastic as shit. “Tell Justin I said thanks a lot for setting me up with Hollywood’s biggest let down. I had a blast.”

I crack a smile and move to follow her, honest to god wondering if she’ll fuck me with all that spunk she’s kept hidden until now, but then I spot the three motorcycles parked on my driveway and freeze where I stand. The biggest guy of the three – the one who just so happens to look a lot like the girl who just hit me – tosses her his helmet and climbs off of his bike, headed this way like he’s ready to snap my neck.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Come here, you little shit!”

I’m not little, but I’m not stupid, either, which is why I have no shame in running away from him to get back to the safety of my own house. I move to do just that, but I don’t get the chance before he snatches the back of my neck and spins me to face him. Noting the fury in his eyes, I open my mouth to do what I do best, ready to talk myself out of this, but then I’m met with yet another fist to the face – a meaner one this time. He punches me in the nose and I hit the concrete, groaning at the pain shooting up my spine and through my probably cracked skull.

“Jesus, fuck, man,” I hiss, lifting my hands to cover the sore spot. “What’re you a family of boxers or some shit?”

Laughter rings out around me and I take that as a yes, squinting at the mid morning sun while I wait for them to leave. As soon as the sound of their engines fades into the distance, I let out a heavy sigh and force myself up to stand, half waving at the nosey next door neighbor slash eighty year old bitch who gets off on ratting me out to my parents.

“Mornin’, Felicia.”

Her wrinkled mouth forms a rare, sinister grin like she knows something I don’t and she waves right back, making me shudder. I stumble through the front door and lock it behind me, quickly setting the alarm in case they decide to come back for more. My nose hurts like a motherfucker, but a quick look in the mirror tells me he didn’t break it. I can already tell I’m about to be walking around with a nasty black eye to match the busted up lip his little sister gave me, though.

I remove my nose rings from both nostrils and run a hand through my hair, messing it up until it sticks out the way I like it. I keep the sides cut short but the top is long and dark, the ends dyed a deep shade of purple. My eyes drop to the silver cross sitting around my neck and I smile sadly at it, backing away from my own reflection to head for the kitchen. I wash my piercings at the sink and rinse them off with some saline solution, side eyeing my four year old Rottweiler while I grab a couple paper towels to dry them off.

“Some guard dog you are,” I mutter, tilting my head at the front door. “They coulda killed me out there, man.”

He scratches my thigh with his big ass paw and I laugh lightly, ruffling the short hair beneath his chin while I grab his food from the cabinet overhead. I used to keep it in the pantry but the greedy fucker kept clawing the door open to help himself whenever he wanted, so now I have to keep it out of reach. I set his bowl down on the floor in front of him and grab myself an ice pack from the freezer, planning on heading back upstairs to sleep it off, but then movement to my left catches my attention and I stop, turning my head to find my mother raiding the wine rack for a bottle of red.

“Hey, Mom.” I tip my chin, sighing when I catch the tick in her jaw. “Aren’t you supposed to be on set today?”

She ignores me and sets a glass down on the kitchen counter, avoiding my eyes while she fills it all the way to the top. She’s wearing a black pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt, her long brunette hair tied up in a half assed ponytail on the top of her head. She’s beautiful on the outside, tall and slim with a toned body most forty six year old moms would kill for, but on the inside, she’s a broken shell of the woman she used to be.

And who’s fault is that, dipshit?