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Brent

I never thought I’d turn down getting laid. But there I was, telling Sloane no again. It was hard to avoid the clingy brat.

She was blocked from my phone—too many drunk texts and calls. Also, far too many nudes. Those weren’t as bad, but I didn’t want those to show up at an inopportune time. Fallon was mine to claim and no one would deter me. Not even myself.

Unfortunately for me, Sloane was persistent and showed up wherever she thought that I would be. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

And if she found out who I was pursuing, Fallon would be put under a sniper’s red dot. Sloane and her family were brutal in this life we lived. They had the power to kill without question.

On top of that, Fallon is set to take over her mother’s company from what The Dictator told me—along with telling me to stay away from her. That leaves an open spot for a hostile takeover or just the total destruction of the company. It made some sense why he didn’t want me around her, but I wasn’t going to pay that any mind.

I would, however, protect her as much as possible in our world. It was abundantly clear she was completely innocent. Sex had nothing to do with her innocence. When we spoke, she had a childlike wonder about things—an excitement that I wished I had about the world. What was also clear was that her mother told her jack shit about the life we lived and waded through. Fallon was sorely unprepared for a life in the elites, and she had no one to teach her the ropes.

Until she met me.

“Look, Sloane, I am going to be late for practice, and you continually coming to my house or places that you think I’ll be is just draining at this point.” My front door was cracked open just enough to let me speak to her, but I kept the lock chain connected. I knew how she was.

“You act like you have an option here. I can make one call to my parents and your grandfather will have your ass. The time for your silly little games is over.” There she went making threats again, thinking her family had real sway over mine.

Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. I never tested her like this. “Making threats isn’t how you get cooperation.” That was a lie. It was definitely how I got cooperation.

What I meant was making threats doesn’t bode well for romantic partners , but my point was still made from the look on her face. She would get wrinkles too quickly from how oftenshe twisted her face up like that.

Botox would start early for her if it hadn’t already.

“It’s the only way you’ll listen to me.” She crossed her arms, her too small purse falling off her shoulder and down her arm. That looked like it angered her even more for some odd reason.

When Slone didn’t get her way...everyone needed to prepare for a toddler-esque temper tantrum.

Did I mention how much I hated the elitists?

“No.” I rubbed my face and sighed. “You must be thinking of your other boy toy.”

She leaned up to the door frame to bat her eyes at me. The softening of her face looked better than the twisted expression. “Don’t you worry. My daddy will convince you.”

Thank God she left .

“Who was at the door?” Josh, one of my buddies who lived here, walked out into the kitchen freshly out of bed.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, needing the caffeine. “Just a girl who can’t take a hint.”

“Lady killer,” he laughed.

“Lady avoider,” I mumbled.

He held up a carton of eggs. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

“So, what’s up with the lady avoidance? Never knew you to turn down pussy.” He turned to me after setting up the stove, eyes wide. “Are you going monogamous?”

I waved him off, diving back into the cup of bitter coffee. “Nah. Sloane’s just a level ten clinger.”

“I don’t know, man. I wouldn’t cross her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have other shit to worry about.”

“Like?”

Like the info I discovered about Fallon. Like the quest I sent Reaper on. Like the overwhelming number of rats that kept popping up. “Work and shit. My grandfather has me working more than ever and keeping up with baseball and classes.” The classes part was a lie, but everyone made the same comment.

“What’s it like to be the grandson of the richest man since ever?”

He asked me that a lot. Being from a family that could afford just enough, Josh couldn’t comprehend that there were zero obstacles if you had the funds. “Tiring,” was all I said.

“I could imagine. You’re going to take over for him one day, right?”

“ Right .”

––––––––

“A lright, everyone! Lace up and start your laps!”

Practice for baseball was one of the few places I tried to clear my mind. Exercise and pistol whipping made up a lot of my time lately outside of keeping tabs on my new girl. I was protecting my grandfather’s investment in her mother in a way. Though, he wouldn’t see it that way.

Stay away from the Montgomery girl.

No thanks. That made her more tempting.

If only I could just feel how soft those lips were for once...

“Vaughn! Pick up the goddamned pace!” Coach blew the whistle, making everyone turn to watch my slow jog. “What the fuck is up with you today? Does baseball mean nothing to you?”

I hastened. “Sorry, coach!”

He shook his head, disappointed.

“Late night?” One of the guys taunted.

“Yeah, your mom knows how to tire a man out. I loved tag teaming her with Emily, too.”

Whoops, Oliver didn’t like that too much.

Oliver was the hot headed one. I never liked him much on or off the field. He was uptight and didn’t blend well with the team. Despite being a decent pitcher, the guy didn’t have much else going for him. The team hated his attitude.

“Hey, it’s not worth it,” one of the guys whispered to Oliver as he turned around and stopped in his tracks.

I prepped myself. The anger was already visible in his body movements as he stalked towards me.

“No. Fuck you!” His spit landed in my face.

Well, that was lovely . I needed a shower anyway. “Not into dudes, sorry.”

I ducked a fist coming in my direction; it was sloppy. It was always sloppy when they were emotional. Considering I mentioned his mom and girlfriend in the same sentence, I understood his outburst. I just didn’t care.

We played a cute game of him attempting punches and me dodging them. I really wished he would put up a better fight.

“What the fuck is your problem, Brent?”

I caught his hand and twisted, giving him a cruel smile. “The better question,” I shoved him to the ground. “Is what isn’t my problem?”

Practice was over. Coach blew the whistle, and my punishment was being sequestered away from the guys with a stop starting fights speech. Since The Dictator was richer than God, nothing happened to me.

Or any of the other rich brats here.

“Can we at least keep the fights to somewhere else? I’m trying to run a fucking baseball team, here.” Coach looked like he was at his wits end with us all.

My face said uninterested. “If they can keep their pussies from crying, sure. I’m not the one prone to these emotional outbursts. If you noticed, I didn’t throw the first punch.”

He clearly wasn’t happy today. The stress lines on his face had gotten deeper. I wagered that being an employee here under constant pressure and threats would age a man faster than milk left on the counter. “Brent...” he sighed.

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off. “Don’t fret, coach. I’ll leave. I’m sure I’m due for another earful here soon. You can tell everyone I was kicked out of practice again.”

He didn’t argue.

That’s how things always happened for me. Cops tried not to arrest me despite my scenes being public and sometimes caught on tape. The school let me skirt by with less-than-ideal grades. Fear of the Vaughn name was everywhere.

I flipped my phone out of my bag right on cue.

“Yes, sir?”

“Stop fighting at baseball practice where people have cameras.”

“Yes, sir.”

The irritation at me being a disappointment was loud in his silence. “Report to work later. You have things to do. Try not to need me to bail your ass out.”

Click.

My next move was texting Reaper. He never liked working with the other guys we had on the top cleaning crew.

Here we go to work again, I thought.

And, of course, he just responded with a picture of a cat wielding a knife. He was not normal.