Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Hop swung.
His fist connected with Malcolm’s cheek. His knuckles cracked, Malcolm’s head snapped to the side, and a splatter of blood sprayed across the wall. A collective gasp brought the room to silence.
And then Malcolm’s shocked whine split it open. “You hit me.” As if he couldn’t believe Hop had dared.
“You deserved it,” Ansel said.
“You fucking cunt, I’m going to ruin you for good this time. You and your mother will be living in a box under a bridge somewhere when I’m done.” Malcolm cupped his cheek, a streak of red seeping from his broken lip. The sight of it filled Hop with glee.
He’d wanted to do that for ages. Maybe he should do it again. He flexed his fingers and winced at the stab of pain. Maybe he should kick Malcolm instead.
Before he could do anything Rafe burst through the door.
“Malcolm, stop—”
“Rafe,” Hop said. There was so much relief in that one syllable, so much love, but Rafe barely spared him a glance, all his attention was focused on the blubbering Malcolm.
“Okay, people, there’s still a show to put on.” Mark clapped his hands and shooed the gawkers away.
As they left, Rafe asked. “What happened?”
“Sibling rivalry.”
“You hit him? Christ, Hop.”
“Yes, he fucking hit me. I’m going to sue him until he doesn’t have a cent to his name.”
“Too late, bro.”
Rafe’s eyes closed and his shoulders sank. He turned to face the intruders. “What do you want, Malcolm? What was the point of coming here tonight?”
“I wanted to see it with my own two eyes.”
“See what?”
“The thing that will finally get the two of you bottom-feeders out of our lives for good.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mark appeared with Sam, the VIP bouncer, in tow.
“Leave or I’ll call the cops,” Mark said with a tone of authority. He waved his cell phone to emphasize his threat.
Malcolm pushed the bouncer out of his way. “Don’t touch me. I’m done here anyway.”
When he and Craig were escorted out, the suspense of the room broke like a water balloon.
“What. The. Fuck.” Z turned to Hop.
“I can’t believe you punched him,” Ansel said, something like pride in his tone.
“Me, either,” Hop replied.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Rafe said.
“He had it coming.”
“It doesn’t matter. His father has a firm of lawyers in his pocket. If Malcolm makes a case for it, he really could sue you.”
“To do that, he’d actually have to acknowledge my existence. I’m not worried.” Hop leaned against a chair. He looked completely wiped out.
Rafe tugged his hair, trying to stop the swirl of chaos in his mind. It felt like everything was spinning like a tornado and he had no idea how to keep it from blowing apart.
“Damn it, Hop, I’m serious. You know what’s on the line for me, how could you be so selfish?”
“Fuck you, Rafe.”
“I thought I was through cleaning up your messes.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m still the same naive idiot because I fucking believed that you’d have my back this time.”
“Like you have mine?”
“Is it a game to you? To see how much of your bullshit I can take? Say you never felt anything for me, tell me everything we’ve gone through these past few weeks were lies.”
“Uh, guys?” Ansel cleared his throat.
All the Sassy Boyz were watching them.
“So that’s how it is,” Z said.
“We’ll leave you alone.” Ansel poked Z’s shoulder and ushered the rest of them away.
It was too late for privacy to do any good. News of this incident would spread through the club like herpes.
“I’ve done everything for you,” Rafe said.
“Not everything.” Hop sounded defeated and his shoulders were curled in that familiar pose.
Rafe’s chest cracked open at the sight. He wanted to grab on to something steady because he felt like he was shaking apart.
“We both knew this could only end one way,” Hop said.
The turmoil in Rafe’s mind roared. He’d thought they’d gotten past this, were working through it together. Apparently, he’d been wrong. “I guess so.”
“This was never real anyway, was it?”
It was more real than anything else. “Wasn’t that the deal? Keep it casual, right?”
“Right.” Hop hugged himself around his middle, his face pale and spine hunched. Still sick.
God, he was still sick and he’d performed like that. Rafe wanted to force him to sit, find him medicine or a jacket or something. But he no longer had the right, so he stood there while the bond they’d formed withered and died in the silence.
“Prince is here.”
“That’s good.”
“I’ll get the contract signed and take care of everything.” He hoped like hell the Lockwood drama wouldn’t change the designer’s mind.
“You always do.”
Part of being a responsible adult was making the hard choices. Too many people depended on Switch for him to give up without a fight.
“I have to go,” he said. He had to find Prince and solidify their agreement so he could finally face Roland Lockwood as equals.