"I grew up in a house of no love or emotion - it kind of sticks with you." — Billy Corgan
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Chapter 10
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Luke

I loved a girl who could suck the shit out of a dick.

I didn't love much. Whether that came to people or material things. I just didn't.

But, this. This girl with the lip injections, no gag reflex, and a throat of a champ. She knew what the fuck she was doing.

Big, baby blues lifted up to me. Poor thing; I had nearly fucked her eyelashes off. With them barely hanging, she blinked a couple of times, meeting my eyes.

"Did you miss me?" she grinned, attempting to wrap her tiny hand around the base of my cock. "I know a part of you definitely did."

I rolled my eyes, grasping her by the back of her red hair. My free hand trained around her frail throat, squeezing to signal that I wasn't here for any type of dialogue. "Less talking. More sucking."

She was more than happy to do as I asked, putting that loose throat of hers back to work. Good.

I shut my eyes, my head thumping against the seat to relish in this. One hand remained on the back of her head, the other by my side. I could relax, now. 

I deserved this shit after what I'd been through for the past week.

My mind relayed to the very curse of my fucking existence: Maggie Norris. The girl was a fucking walking, talking, breathing headache.

It'd been a week since she started working for me. In truth, though, she was the one who was working me.

I did everything to assert my position amongst her, but the girl was headstrong. She didn't take my shit. Instead, she returned it, and she returned it hard.

It was strange, having someone fight back with me. I'd always said what I wanted around town, because I knew there were no consequences. Not from them directly. Everyone feared the Vaudest family, and just went with anything I said. But, this girl would rather walk on nails than let me talk my shit.

It was infuriating as shit.

Mumbles came from redhead #2. My eyes popped open, falling to her.

Her lips were clamped around my cock, spittle dripping down her chin. I didn't realize until now I'd begun to facefuck her so hard, both eyelashes were long gone, now.

"Shit." Cursing, I released her by the back of her head. "My bad." Just thinking about Norris, and her little snide comments pissed me off.

"W-why'd you stop?" Redhead #2 swiped at her chin with the back of her hand, her chest weaving in and out as she attempted to catch her breath. "It was turning me on."

I eyed her carefully, then shrugged. Why not get my aggravations out about that smartass?

Redhead #2's lips wrapped around the head of my cock, before she sunk down entirely. Her hands tightened around my thighs as she attempted the entire length, but choked back on it.

Usually, I would have met her wishes, but, my cock didn't have the same idea, right now. It was limp in her mouth.

What the fuck?

I shoved a hand through my hair, and wrapped a hand on her neck, again. She took me deeper, then. I waited, and waited, but nothing fucking happened.

My jaw ticked with annoyance. Maggie's annoying ass even fucked with me when it came to sex.

With her stupid scowl, and that stupid black hair that she never lets down. That obnoxious ringtone she has. That ridiculously delicious food she always brings. That face she makes when she's trying to stop herself from arguing back with me.

Big, green eyes that never stop rolling at me. Those stupid lips she always has glossed up. They were big, and plump, and they had fit perfectly around my cock, once upon a time. I still recalled the way she looked down at me with those huge, emerald eyes of hers while I had her ankles touching her ears, my fingers buried to the hilt inside of her, and her clit in my mouth.

My eyes snapped open once the memory began to fuck with my reality. My gaze fell to my cock.

Shit. Shit. Shit—

I was hard. I was hard as shit, and it was because of Maggie.

I pulled redhead #2 back by her shoulders, my chest heaving with nerves as I glanced down to her.

Except it wasn't her. It was big, green eyes staring back at me, a half-smirk on her face, and pretty, black hair grazing her shoulders.

No. Fuck no.

I blinked so many times, it hurt. Finally, redhead #2 came back into view, but it was too late.

"Get out," I rushed out.

Her mouth fell in shock as she leaned up. "What? Why?" She tugged her shirt back on, not even bothering with the bra.

I shoved my cock away from her sight with a huff. I wasn't explaining this shit out loud, not ever. "None of your business, just go." I leaned over to open her side of the door.

Her expression mirrored her offense, but I didn't have enough time to relish in it. The moment her feet hit the pavement, I was already gearing down on the gas.

***

"Hello, Mr. Vaudest. Tell your father—" I slipped right past the nurse, scoffing at the message.

I was so used to hearing them, I was sure I could have finished the sentence for her. This was the fourth person to kiss ass, just all in different terms.

'Tell your father he has my vote.'

'I'll be at your fathers' ceremony!'

'Mr. Vaudest, you've grown into a modest young man.'

It all made me want to rip my ears off. Who the fuck even says 'modest young man' anymore? I was two more head nods, and thin-lipped smiled from just telling these kiss-asses to fuck off.

I couldn't without it getting back to my father, though. I could see it in the headlines, now. They'd claim I was reckless, and a bad example of our 'family'.

Once, I had accidentally let the tattoos on my arms slip, and the blogs acted as if I had wiped my ass on their grandparent's gravestone, or some shit. My father had done the same, since I had upset his followers by apparently, being a normal ass teenager.

To talk back and call them out on their idiocy would be a death sentence. It wasn't worth the trouble, the hits, nor the conversation.

I shook my head to clear my mind of my dad, and instead, focused on what was ahead. My mom.

The doctor warned me that she'd been quiet today. It was nearing six o'clock, now, so she'd probably be asleep.

I didn't mind; just being in her presence allowed me to think better, some days. Just being around her was better than anything else I had, which was barely anything.

I had everything a person my age could want, physically. That was true. Emotionally, though, I was empty. I couldn't say that it was a sad thing, because I didn't know what to be sad about.

My father had always been a cunning man, one that was never satisfied, nor could he ever get enough until he was the last one standing. He enjoyed the thrills, the trouble, the pain that he caused. He'd always had the money to clear the problems up if they stained him too badly.

He had cheated on his wife so many times, it seemed to be a personal challenge to him. Then, twenty years ago, his infidelities caught up to him in a way that could never be denied or cleared: Me.

My mom, she hadn't wanted him to have custody of me. In fact, she didn't want a dime from him, nor did she want me near him.

Though, when someone on my dad's team leaked that I was the secret baby, the hidden affair, the bastard, it all went to shit.

So, Mayor Ryan Vaudest being the perfect son of a bitch he is, ripped me from my mothers' arms, and told the media such a lie, they barely had enough film to capture it: that I was Beatrice's—his wife's—son. That she'd been pregnant with me all summer, just hidden from cameras.

My mother fought, I knew that, but money was the thing that made the world spin round. There was no chance of getting me back from my father.

With my his ties, he had me officially initiated into the perfect Vaudest family before I could even grasp my own bottle.

Then, the fun began.

Everyone in that mansion had hated me ever since I could remember. It was a tie between my half-brother, Vance: who hated me for nearly ruining his mothers' marriage to my father. Beatrice: my bitch of a stepmother who hated me just for 'threatening' their reputation. Ryan Vaudest: my father who hated me for simply...well, existing, I had learned over the years.

And, here I was, nineteen years later. A rumored bastard, who was emotionally an orphan.

Sucked, but I couldn't do shit about it. My father didn't want me, and my birth mother was too ill to raise me.

Physically, I was the golden boy. Realistically, I had no family, and I had no home.

The only two people on this earth that had tolerated me were Kade and Levi. But, they were both gone and moved on, so I guess I was right back where I started.

No one wanted me, and I wanted no one. It was just how it was.

After so many years, I learned to just shut the fuck up around my father, take the punches, and move on. Being an unloved, literal bastard became so painfully boring after so long.

My mother, though, Wendy Palce. I knew she'd done her best, and I was appreciative of it. If there was any chance of there being love in me, I felt as if she could have found it, once upon a time. In a different life, in a different universe. But, we were in this one, and there was no changing that.

I didn't knock on my way in. I glanced over her bedside, and I was right: she was sleeping. Her skinny, pale face was comfortable in slumber, completely oblivious to the mess outside. I envied it a bit.

I took my usual seat, to the right side of her bed. My blanket was here, as it always was. No one else visited her, so I knew I was good.

I didn't know of any other siblings from her, and even if I did, I wasn't sure they'd accept me. If there were any chance of the truth getting out about my lineage, my father destroyed it.

When I was ten, I researched and researched until I found my mother. I took so many chances, so many trains, bus stops, even car rides with strangers, just to have a chance of finding someone who loved me.

Except when I got to her, it was too late. The cancer had already taken over.

The moment my father—well, his security— found me, I demanded for him to hospitalize her. The fucker denied it, despite being a man of old wealth. As a last resort, I threatened that if he didn't help her, then I'd expose him. All it'd take is one DNA test with my mother, and his empire would fall.

I remembered getting hit so hard, I blacked out. Woke up with belt marks dug into my skin, and a broken nose. Our butler, Walter—who had always taken pity on me, before he was fired by my father—had been standing over me, a first aid kit in hand, and a phone in the other so that he could report the incident.

After that day, I never saw Walter, again. Dad and Beatrice always warned the staff to treat me just as they did: nothing. Anything else was considered as 'spoiling.'

But, my father had done it. He had my mother hospitalized. and paid for her treatment, but it was only to keep me quiet. He said that if he kept up with the payment, then I'd be the perfect son. He forbid that I ever see her, again, and I agreed for my mother's sake.

But, when I claimed to be at Kade or Levis, they were actually dropping me off at the hospital. They were the only ones who I trusted with my personal life.

Neither one of them said a thing when I showed up to their houses, a black eye or broken finger in tow. They'd have the first aid ready, a cold buds light, medicine, and pizza on the table.

I knew Kade had been through the same, but so much more at the same time. I researched him when we first met in order to blackmail the fucker into a free win at the cages. What I found was so despicable, I couldn't and never had wrapped my head around it, entirely.

When I first met Kade Ryder, the fucker beat me in a race. We were fourteen at the time. The race cost me two-thousand bucks, and a nearly fucked car.

We had both gotten into an argument over who had won, before Levi Wallace came over to break our fight up, while still talking the most shit, too. I had never expected Kade to teach me what I could have done to win, or for Levi to show the both of us how to repair the car.

And, I surely never expected the three of us to want to avoid going home so badly, we all drove to another state that same night just to eat burgers, and go bowling. Then the next night, and the one after that, we did the same thing. That was the start of the closest thing I had ever known to family.

Since then, we were brothers. We were all fucked and shitty, and maybe even a little dysfunctional, but somehow, we'd found a bond in that that would never be broken.

Other than them, no one else knew about my mother's state. Not even my fathers' trophy wife or my stepbrother.

Well, Maggie knew, now.

That girl was strange, that was for sure. Even though 97% of our conversations only resulted in insults or curses, my mouth had ran loose on its own when she had asked about my mother. Maybe it was a sort of exchange for what she had told me about her grandmother.

Either way, I didn't like it. I didn't like that I felt bad when I saw her face lose all resemble of color when I asked if her grandmother was dying, and that I felt like a fucking shithead when I realized that I was being rude. Evenmore so, I didn't like that I enjoyed the food she brung every day, or that face she makes when she's trying not to laugh at one of my insults.

I don't like it, and I don't like her.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts away. That was enough of that.

I'd only been with the girl for a week, and her annoying ass was already stuck in my head. It was trespassing. It was aggravating as shit. The brat surely had a lasting impression, that was for sure.

Just not on me. No one did, and no one ever would.