Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
I’m fucking dying though. Sophia is killing me slowly each and every day.
Turning back to the dance floor, I watch the crowd around Sophia again. She’s moved closer to the bar, more than likely going for water. She drinks a lot of water while she’s here clubbing with her two friends Stacey and Bree. She won’t drink any alcohol though. She hasn’t had anything harder than soda since that night at Johnathan’s bar.
She’s all too aware of what alcoholic beverages can lead to.
Watching as she squeezes through the crowds of people, I smile as she turns to the side, allowing a drunk asshole to stumble past her.
Just this little view of that tight ass of hers has my cock begging for a release of some sort.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up though when she finally reaches the bar and some asshole starts chatting her up. That’s not an odd occurrence. Lots of douches try to talk to my baby, but she always rebuffs them.
This guy, though, he’s offering her a drink before he even says hello, and his hands are shaking it a little too much.
He’s put something in there, I can guarantee it.
Sophia shakes her head and turns to the bartender to ask for another water.
Her friends giggle behind her, and the fucker who’s still trying to chat her up starts to push the fucking cup against her goddamn hand.
Motherfucker.
There’s no fucking way in hell I’m letting that happen. She’s smart enough to refuse any drink that doesn’t have a sealed cap on it, but the fact that this motherfucker has the gall to even try something like this…
In my fucking club...
I’ll going to fucking kill him.
Kill him and replace every single fucking bouncer and bartender here.
Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I quickly dial the first contact in the list.
“James, I don’t have time—” Simon snaps at me before I cut him off.
“Shut the fuck up and listen. Camera three, white button down with khaki shorts. At the Dimension,” I growl before checking out the rest of the bar.
Sophia’s safe for the moment, she’s not accepting the drink.
Looking around the bar, I see all kinds of bro-douche-nozzles, but none raise the hairs on the back of my neck like this asshole.
“This better be important,” Simon says. Then a minute later, he asks, “What am I looking at?”
“Guy’s drugging drinks. We need to check if anyone else is doing it too…” I say as I keep watching Sophia.
“This is a bar, James. While I’m not unsympathetic, we can’t watch a bar the whole time it’s open. It’s why we have security,” Simon says quietly.
“Cut the camera feeds then,” I say and get up from my chair. “Make sure Sophia gets home safe.”
Pushing the disconnect button on my phone, I feel it start to vibrate two seconds later but I ignore it.
Moving out of the VIP lounge and heading down the back stairs, I make my way slowly through the crowd of people.
Motioning to the security guard closest to me, I nod towards an area where it looks like a fight might be starting.
That should keep them busy and away from my target. They know me here well enough to keep out of my way, but that doesn’t mean I want someone seeing what’s about to happen.
Sophia turns that delicious ass towards me as she moves away from the asshole who was trying shit, and as she does, I slide into the spot right behind her.
Raising my voice an octave higher than normal, I shout a cheery frat boy, “Whoo,” at him before slapping an arm around his shoulder.
“Fuck off, asshole!” he shouts at me and tries to shrug out of my tight hold on his shoulders.
Pulling my Glock smoothly from the back of the pants holster I’m wearing, I slam it into his stomach and grin at him.
Putting my mouth to his ear, I speak only loud enough for him to hear. “Let’s go.”
The fucker actually looks like he’s about to puke or scream when he see’s what hit him in the stomach, but I slide my hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck as if I’m some long-lost buddy.
Shaking him slightly, I get close to his ear and say, “Make one fucking sound and I end you here.”
Nodding his head wordlessly at me, tears are ready to spill down his face as I guide him toward the back of the club.
We walk through the club unmolested with me keeping the gun tight against the side of his stomach. One stupid move from him and I’ll have a fucking mess on my hands, but right now, with all the rage surging through my body, I could not care less.
I’d fucking welcome the carnage.
I’d revel in the slaughter of any fucking asshole near me right now. I’d fucking bathe in the blood of all these so-called men trying to flaunt their shit around like peacocks.