Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,12
feel underneath that ridiculous cloth he’s wearing.
That’s what this feels like, it feels like power, it feels like I could do anything.
But it’s the opposite of power. It’s driving me without my will.
It takes everything in me not to touch him.
He shook his head, remember.
He said no.
At least…I think that’s what he said. It’s hard to tell, because he’s not moving right now. His shoulders are down, and it’s not in defeat. Maybe it’s resignation. Maybe he gets this every night, and that makes me mad, I don’t want to be like the other men who bother him. I don’t want to be a problem for him.
You just want to intrude on his life and touch his scar and ask him invasive personal questions, that’s all.
Fuck. I’m as bad as the rest of them. Fuck! I hate every man in here.
I want to destroy them. I’ll do it, too. Come tomorrow, I’ll find out who was here tonight, and I’ll track down each of their companies and buy them out. I’ll burn their factories to the ground, I’ll send steamrollers to crush the rubble…
Fuck. Just…fuck. I feel so bad. I chased this guy.
I want to touch that scar. My gut feels it. The need is twisting me up inside. I want to know what’s going on in his eyes, I want to know why he looked at me like that.
I want to talk to him. But will not.
The men in black must sense my defeat—or call it my self-mastery—because they’re returning to their places by the walls, tucked away in shadows.
There’s a moment in everybody’s life when the world splits in two, and you have to choose which world you’ll live on. The earth where you make one choice, or the other. You don’t get to see the outcome of the world you didn’t choose. It’s blocked from view, and it’s a torture not knowing. Future-you is doing something you will never see. Are they happier? More content?
Sometimes it feels like that separate me must be the happiest man on earth, because everything I have chosen in life has been wrong.
Last month I was on the cover of a magazine. Had on a seriously sharp suit, hair perfect, a real captain of industry look. People love how much money I’ve made the company in the past few months. They love current-world me.
I just wonder if there’s another me, someone who left it all behind after the funeral. Some Colby out there who went to the mountains to pick flowers, or learned to play guitar, or anything other than moving into his office and picking up the phone and starting to make the biggest deals of his life.
If my brother were around, I’d ask him, but Dalton’s gone all the time. We used to work closely together, but then he met a man and moved away and now I never see him, and now Dad is gone too, and I’m just unmoored, to the point that I’m chasing around a waiter in a club because I’m too superior to pick one of the willing boytoys standing around with their tits out.
This is the longest, most awkward moment of my life, and I can’t look at this guy anymore.
You have to know when to accept defeat.
Fuck Hawk and fuck Daniel. I’m going home.
Scar must sense my defeat. But is he victorious? What’s the look in those eyes, is he happy that I’m turning now, that I’m starting to turn, that I’m clearly about to start turning and leave?
Why are my feet so frozen? I’m leaving.
Then he does a thing.
What’s the word for it? It’s like a flick of the head, hardly a movement at all, certainly not an expression, because there’s so little I can see of his face. But his head has moved…in the direction of the back.
Really?
He’s walking away now, and swiftly, but with looks back.
He wants me to follow.
My heart is going a thousand beats a minute, and he wants me to follow.
I know what mistakes feel like, and this is definitely a mistake. I’m glad I’m fully dressed. Covered up. I’m aching right now. It’s in my core, deep down, this excitement that might be fear. Where’s he taking me? Is it to a private room where he and I can meet?
Maybe it’s a security office. Maybe another couple of black-suited guys are about to beat the shit out of me.
I halfway don’t care. At least then I’d be feeling something.