Double Dating

Chapter Twenty-One

Fingers snapped in front of my face in a circular motion. "Hellooo, earth to Mia. Man, those drugs fucked with her head or something."

All the guys in the room laughed and that's when I focused in on the world around me, no longer thinking about the hypothetical animal characteristics they possessed.

"Shut up." All of my frustrations dug into those two words. "Aren't you tired of getting your ass beat?"

Oliver coiled as if ashamed that, in two occasions, he lost a fight against girls. Then he retorted, "You got lucky. But I heard you like getting your ass beat."

From the corner of my eye, I caught Christopher making a perverted gesture by rocking his hips forwards and back, placing his hands in the air as if they were gripping something invisible. I rolled my eyes at the insinuation and brushed it off.

Instead I managed a comeback of my own, "Chris, what are you doing? Nelly isn't here for you to impress. Stop fucking the air with your small dick and hurry back to Graham's sister if you miss her so much."

Something I said instantly thickened the air. No one laughed, no one spoke, no one breathed.

All eyes were on one person in the room and I averted my sight to him, just to see the outcome of my joke. As it turns out, older brothers -even if the man himself is a complete jackass- are very protective. His face looked like it could melt off from the boiling point he reached. Sweat beaded above his brows and his face radiated a bright red, eyes never leaving Chris.

Graham looked like he wanted to spill blood yet he exuded a calm manner when he spoke, "Is it true?"

All the response he needed from Christopher was deafening silence.

My ears rung from the aftereffects before I even knew what happened. Chris was standing just feet in front of me, near the sofa, and then a red haze cloaked my vision and splattered the entire room. All I could see was red, and not just emitting from Graham's anger.

A gun shook in the hands of Graham, who looked like he was battling satisfaction and guilt. I trailed my gaze from the gun over to Christopher's body sprawled across the sofa. Labored breaths still came from his mouth until they didn't. 

My mouth hung agape and I found myself unable to rip my eyes from the dead person in my living room. Continuing in the same tone of silence as before the gunshot, some men moved with haste to get the body disposed of and living room cleansed of any evidence.

All I could do was soak in the newly declared atmosphere. Things just took a sharp turn to nowhere good...

"You— Ah..." Graham struggled to speak so he used some weird hand gesture towards his face and made as if something was on his face that he needed to brush off. After watching him with curious eyes, I picked up that he was telling me to wipe my face.

Shakily, I brought my hand to my face to gently touch some wet drops sprinkled across it. I paused, expecting the worst, and then dared myself to glance at my fingertips. A deep red liquid stained them and I found myself unable to stand. It's as if the drugs were injected into me yet no-one had come close to me.

No. This feeling of unease was due to seeing someone die and then having their blood coat your face.

I turned on my heel to dash into the bathroom, back into the tub that I now wished I had remained in. Without bothering to dispose of my clothes, I jumped under the cold stream, and then discarded each clothing item one by one. Tearing each layer off as if keeping them on might make me tainted.

Then it dawned on me; I killed him.

Or rather, my big mouth did.

"Mia?" Graham stood at the door that I nonchalantly left wide open. He took in the sight of my nearly naked body with dull eyes, "When you're ready to discuss the terms of this business, meet us in the kitchen."