Date = 10 April
Place = San Francisco (Inferno)
POV – Aria
“I miss you so much,” Mel swoons on the phone talking to non-other than her loverboy … and I’m jealous. Without even thinking about my actions, I hand a guy a beer, take his money, and stash it into the cash register; my mind dropping further and further into a pit of sorrow the more I listen to the blonde on the phone. I also want that … real love! But no, I had to go and lose my heart to a bloody robot that constantly forget about my existence. My eyes search for the object of my desire at the other end of the bar but he’s no longer there. See! That’s exactly what I mean. Damn idiot!
The stupid unfeeling heartless thing has been ignoring me the last couple of days – he hasn’t even come home, staying here at the club. And it hurts. Badly. I mean … I’m the one with a reason to be enraged! Even though he explained that he never shagged anyone in his office before me, that he won’t break his promise to not cheat on me, and that Amanda is a rabid breed of human female that is obsessed with him just because he warmed his penis in her a few times long ago. And never in the office … or his home.
Still, just the thought of him shagging another woman stings badly … and I so desperately need him right now. This whole Brian thing is working on my psyche … and I’m not okay. Neither is Mel. She looks like a ghost and I know the anticipation is killing her, but luckily we’ll learn the result of the DNA test soon enough. And at least most of the gang is on their way back … thank goodness for that.
“So which one of you ladies is going to massage my balls and which one is gonna sit on my face?” A brute squeezes in next to Mel and puts his arm around her middle. Mel bites her lip, her palm hovering over the phone; anxiously looking at me. Then she puts the phone against her ear again.
“Damion, calm down, it’s just a drunk asshole,” she says and for a moment the jerk’s eyes flicker weirdly. Does he know Damion? Nope, he wouldn’t dare treat Mel like that if he did would he?
“Yes, Aria is here with me. I’ll call you later,” she puts the phone in her pocket and rolls her eyes at me. This time we’re like peanut butter and jelly totally in sync, and just for a millisecond, I feel a little sorry for the vulgar jerk.
He truly doesn’t know who he’s messing with. During my brief time here I’ve learned that you never ever want to get onto the wrong side of a Blackburn … or a Grimm for that matter. And Mel is hormonal and sort of both; as she’s carrying a little fetus of the latter inside her making her even more dangerous than Jackson. So let’s face it … she’s not to be messed with right now.
“Let’s go to the bathroom and you girls can take turns sucking my dick,” he leans all the way over the bar, his face now inches from mine. The sliver of empathy I previously had for him vanishes swiftly and disgust washes over me. Who is this a-hole? And why does it seem that he’s purposefully trying to piss us off? He’s not even drunk.
“Oh, and if I’m satisfied by your performance I might just let you experience the pleasure of Graham Scott’s cock inside you.” A girl waiting for her drink pulls up her lips and she gives him a disgusted look. Yeah, girlfriend, I also sometimes wonder how these creeps manage to get into the VIP section. I mean, who the fuck is Graham Scott?
“Fuck off Graham!” Mel utters, “Ain’t you suppose to be racing in Italy right now?” So Mel does seem to know him, “or did you not get invited?” He looks at her as if he’s God’s gift to women and I swallow some dry spit.
“I’ve been suspended … thanks to your fucking lunatic brother attacking me for no reason,” he says vehemently and I can just guess which brother he’s referring to.
“You sucker-punched him in the face!” No, he didn’t. Is this guy mentally ill or just plain stupid? Or does he plainly have a death wish?
“Still he didn’t need to break my ribs and jaw … ” Graham pouts and Mel snickers in his face.
“Dude, knowing Jackson, you can be thankful that’s all he did,” she says, “He just came back and is sleeping upstairs … want me to call him?”
“Why? To kill me? No wait … that’s your boyfriend’s thing is it not? We all know how many lives he’s already taken, don’t we?” he scorns and I wonder what he’s blabbering about. Who did Damion kill? He makes it sound as if the biker is some sort of mass murderer. Nope, not Damion …
“I’m actually counting on your murdering boyfriend finding out that I fucked his bitch way better than him,” he grabs his junk through his pants and shakes it suggestively, “and there’s plenty to go around.” He winks at me while uttering that last part.
“Can I have one Angry Orchard, please?” a girl asks and I turn around to fetch a bottle from the refrigerator, thankful for the distraction.
“So little ho … let me go give you the most mind-blowing orgasm in your boring little life,” he grabs Mel’s arm.
I grind my teeth and fasten my grip on the cider bottle. The littlest Blackburn moves her sight to the pathetic guy’s groin. I know that look. All the Blackburns have it. Fuck.
“AAAAHHHHHGGGGG!!!!” Graham whomever, suddenly screams, his body twisting unnaturally like an untalented street dancer, his face contorted into a painful scowl, tears welling in his eyes.
“You better get out of here before one of my brothers shows up,” Mel whispers in his ear, turning her hand, which has a tight grip on his balls, clockwise. The man whimpers out a painful moan, tears now rolling down his face and a small smile creeps onto the side of my mouth. Mel shoves him away, letting go of the vice grip she had on his manhood. He steps back, body bent over, breathing heavily while rubbing his tender bruised testicles.
“Bitch,” he straightens himself up, his hateful eyes on the petite blonde that just cranked his ego in front of the whole bar. Everyone is smirking teasingly at him, not all of them understanding what just happened, but it can clearly be seen he just got his butt kicked by a girl. I wonder what hurts more … his ego or his balls.
“I’ll teach you some manners ’cause your loser boyfriend is too much of a wimp to do it,” he grabs Mel, his hand pulled back, ready to slap her face.