banged last night, and her tits were hanging out a few minutes ago. Her covering her legs is quite amusing.
“Sara, why is Emily not here?” My voice betrays me and cracks into a plea. Her eyes dart up as she registers how pathetic and hurt I just sounded. I’m being played, I’m just not sure by whom!
“Will, you need to leave Emily alone! Whatever issues you have with Louis and his involvement with your sister, don’t take them out on her!”
As I chew over her word choice, my blood begins to boil. That fucking bastard sent his whore to tell me to stay away from Emily. I look at her with disgust. I don’t plan to dignify her daft outburst with an answer. I don’t take orders from scum or sluts, I turn and walk away. I’m done with this pile of crap. I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear her yelling after me.
“If you hurt them, you will have me to answer to, you hear me, Will?” she yells from the top of the stairs.
I turn around and take two steps at a time to reach her. She’s tall but I’m still a good head taller. I glare down at her and she can try and act as brave as she wants, but I know she’s scared of me. She should be, she doesn’t know what I’m capable of.
“I don’t take empty threats from whores,” I answer as her eyes enlarge and sharpen right before I feel the sting of her hand across my face. I haven’t been hit on the face in a while and it actually feels good…sobering. I wish it were Louis standing here before me so I could finally help him meet his maker. She spits in my face and tries storming away. Oh, we’re not finished yet, sweetheart, I grab her arms and pull her towards me.
“Why don’t you explain to me why one of Louis’ whores would tell me to stay away from Emily? How much is he paying you for this? I can pay you double if you give me a plausible explanation as to what in bloody fucking hell is going on here!”
“Why did you just call me Louis’ whore? How did you even come up with that?” she asks as she stops trying to pull herself away from my grip. She shakes her head from side to side as if what I said to her is highly offensive and muddling.
I let go of her arms and instinctively push her away; she flies back and falls on her bum on the carpeted floor. I immediately feel like a jackarse for treating her callously, even if she is his whore; she’s still a girl, a sad girl. She looks up with surprise at my brutality and I have this unexplainable need to wipe that disappointed look off her face. Don’t look at me like that, Sara, I’m the good guy.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to fall.”
She fumes and rolls her eyes with disgust; she looks away from me and I feel like the biggest arse on God’s green earth. I lower myself to my knees and inch closer to sit next to her on the floor. This girl is my only ticket to Emily, I shouldn’t let my pride lose the plot.
“I don’t know why you think I’m Louis’ whore, but I’ll have you know that Emily Bruel is one of the most important people in my life. I will do whatever it takes to protect her and her beautiful family.” As she says this within a yard of my face, she starts crying again. This bird is an emotional rollercoaster. Tread with caution.
“So why are you banging her husband?” I ask bluntly, and the emotions that pass on Sara’s face are quite priceless. She wants to laugh and yet looks cross simultaneously, and I see her battling and talking herself off that ledge.
“William fucking Knight, if you refer to my relationship with my best friend’s husband as sexual one more time, I swear I will claw your pretty little blue eyes out and shove them up your stupid British ass. Is that understood?”
I smile at her descriptive dismemberment warning. She’s a cheeky American, my favorite kind.
“Sara, I came up last night per your request! I saw you and Louis boning in this bed. I was hiding in the closet when he left. I know you must be lying to your best friend and I’m not here to tell you