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Chapter Seven

Teddy

I have never been so fucking turned on than I am right now.

Even as I’m watching him storm out, leaving me with a big pile of dead Bud, as well as that hoe, Lola, to deal with, all I want to do is rip his clothes off. Fuck what Jane and I have been doing. We’ve been doing it wrong.

The passion I just saw is unlike anything I’ve seen, and I want more.

In one of my favorite movies, a character talks about ‘warrior poets’ and that always stuck with me. Watching Branson was like fucking poetry.

Gone is the stupid fucking puppy that Jane and I created, and thank fuck for that. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of how he looked at me, the heat and rage. It’s funny how similar hate and love truly are, and I don’t doubt Branson feels both. I’ll give him a little bit of time to adjust, to come to terms. But I will get what I want, and I will get my toy back.

No, not my toy.

I’ll finally have the boy, no, the man, I’ve been waiting for since I was twelve years old.

A smile spreads on my face.

Mine.