Despicable by Rory Miles

Blood Owed Sample - Chapter One

Demi

“Hello?” I set the food on the island and glance into the living room. It’s empty, but I can hear Kevin’s music playing from the bedroom. The corners of my mouth tug down when I hear the music we use to set the mood.

Someone’s spanking the monkey.

Running a finger along the cream-colored wall, I make my way to the bedroom. The door’s shut. Not entirely odd, but I begin to get that horrible sinking feeling in my gut.

The kind you get when you know something awful is about to happen. Like in fifth grade when I decided to wear white pants after Labor Day. I had this awful feeling when I finished buttoning them, but I ignored it. Later that morning, I’d gotten my period and hadn’t realized it until a giant red stain covered my ass.

What settles in the pit of my stomach now feels similar only a thousand times worse because I can hear the stupid wooden headboard banging against the wall.

There’s no way spanking the monkey can make so much noise.

I jerk the door open hard enough that it slams into the wall. Between the music and the bed, Kevin hasn’t noticed me. But she does, and the stupid fucking pixie stares straight at me with a smug smile. Her pink and purple hair—which looks fabulous on her by the way—is plastered to her forehead and messed up in the back.

My black sheets, my sheets, are crinkled and pulled up on one side to reveal the mattress underneath. They’ve been going at it hard. Her skin holds a hint of pink, and had she not been screwing my boyfriend, I would probably fall in love with her.

I’m a sucker like that. Pixies are in my top three favorite fae beings. They’re notoriously ornery, short, petite, and every type of male loves them. Apparently, Kevin has no immunity to her charm because here he is, boinking her brains out.

I still haven’t said anything. I mean, he has never been like that with me. He’s slamming into her, hard and rough. The bed groans and creaks, threatening to break. He doesn’t hold back his shifter strength with her.

Whatever he’s doing seems to be working for her because her eyes roll back into her head. She lets out a throaty moan, and he comes along with her. I know because he does the weird bucking thing he always does, though it takes him with more force than I’ve grown accustomed to.

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me, but what the hell are you doing?” I say, finally finding my voice.

At least I let him finish. I kick his boxers out of the way and stand by the bed, glaring down at the fae and wolf. Probably not the smartest thing for a human to do.

“Shit, Demi.” Kevin squeaks. Yes, he actually squeaks as he pulls out of his conquest and scrambles off the bed. I pick up one of his random band tees, which he never puts in the hamper, and throw it at his head.

“Put some fucking clothes on!”

The pixie laughs and sits up, leaving her perfect body on display. Her tits are round and perky. Fae bitch.

“This is your girlfriend?” She sounds so disappointed.

I sneer at her. “Don’t fucking push me, short stop.”

“Calm down, Demi.”

The pixie snickers at Kevin’s reprimand.

Red clouds my vision.

I shove the pixie down and catapult over the bed in a way that surprises even myself. I cock my fist back and clock my ex-boyfriend right in the kisser. His head snaps sideways, much to my enjoyment. Years of mixed martial arts training have built up enough strength that I know he feels it. He may not be writhing in pain, but he feels it.

When his gaze meets mine, they’re glowing amber; his wolf is close to the surface.

“Oh, put it away, Kevin. Get your shit and get the hell out of my apartment.”

“Demi, come on,” he says, as if him screwing someone else—a fae at that—isn’t automatic grounds for dismissal.

“Get. Your. Shit.” I grind the words out. My fists are clenched, and I fight the urge to punch him again. I may have gotten away with it once, but his wolf will definitely make an appearance if I hit him again.

The whole power dynamic between supernaturals and humans isn’t fair. Regardless of how smart we are or how much technology we develop, they’ll always be stronger.

Stupid genetic mutation.

“Humans are so emotional,” the pixie says.

I glare at her over my shoulder. Of course she’s pulling on a magenta dress and it looks amazing on her. Fae and supes are different. Supes are superior humans, whereas fae come from an entirely different world. Hence the vibrant hair and pink skin.

Why couldn’t he have chosen someone uglier?

Someone non-fae?

Kevin grunts in agreement.

Mother freaking wolves.

Picking up the book I’ve been reading from the nightstand, I smack him in the face with it.

“I’ll show you emotional, you fucking animal.”

Before I can get in another swing, he’s partially shifted and pinning me to the floor. His chest heaves, and his eyes glow brighter.

My backbone flees, and I drop my gaze, submitting to him before his wolf decides to bite my head off.

“Unbelievable.” His scoff ruffles my hair. He shoves off the floor, standing in one swift movement.

“Get out.” I close my eyes, waiting for them to leave.

When the front door closes, I let out a groan of annoyance. I should’ve castrated him.

Rolling to my side, I shove myself off the red throw-rug and straighten my hair because it’s now a long, tangled mess. I go into the kitchen to grab my phone, wondering all the while if I’d go to jail for lighting my bed on fire. The mobile device sits alone on the island. The sack I’d come home with is gone.

The bastard took the food.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

I really wanted that orange chicken.

* * *

A trilling ring fills the line for a few seconds before a familiar voice greets me.

“Lexi.”

My best friend sucks in a hissing breath when she hears my despondent voice. “What did that shifter son of a bitch do?”

“A gorgeous pixie.” I stare at the wall as I speak, feeling detached from everything.

Fuck him.

Kevin and I dated for the past two years. I loved him. I trusted him. It’s hard to come to terms with the complete and utter betrayal. How long has he been screwing her?

A week?

A month?

Longer?

“I’m coming over. Take a shower and get dressed.”

“No, Lex.” I say, whining into the phone. Can’t she let me wallow in my misery?

“Seriously, woman. Don’t make me slap you. I can hear you retreating into your shell. Get up, take a shower, put on something sexy.”

I sigh. “Please tell me there will be tequila.” Drinking might not wash the pain away permanently, but it’ll be a nice Band-Aid for the night at least.

“Only the best for you, boo.”

I chuckle. “Okay.”

After the hottest shower my hot water heater can give me, I wrap the towel around my hair. I stand naked in front of the closet, shifting through the clothes. Which club we go to depends on Lexi’s mood. Most of my going out clothes are on the modest side of things. Compared to what supes wear, my clothes are downright conservative.

The front door clicks open as I continue searching for something Lexi will approve of. Lexi and sexy go hand in hand. Not because the words rhyme. Lexi has long, honey-colored hair. Her skin is bronzed to perfection, and the woman has eyebrows to die for. On top of all that, her lips are soft, full, and the perfect color of light pink.

My friend’s been weakening the knees of men since she came of age.

“Please tell me you aren’t seriously considering the green one.”

I turn, smirking at the disgust on her face.

“I see you let yourself in.”

She waves her hand around, the key I gave her glinting in the air. “Wasn’t that the point of this?”

I snort. “Not really.” The key is for emergencies or when I go out of town with Kevin. Instead, Lexi uses it as an open invitation to come over whenever she damn well pleases. I don’t really mind; Lexi’s family. I face the closet again, not caring that she stands there watching my bare ass as I choose an outfit.

She’s seen worse.

My fingers brush against black fabric. I pull it from the hanger and shimmy into the leather dress. It’s the most risqué piece I own. One side has a spaghetti-strap while the top part of the dress pulls up and over the other arm in a thicker piece. A few bands of black studs crisscross over my stomach and parts of the skirt are cut out, revealing pieces of my hips and thighs.

I twirl, palms facing up. “Well, good enough for you?”

Her lips pucker as she whistles. “Damn, girl. Where have you been hiding that number?”

“I was saving it for our trip to Las Vegas.” I frown. I wasted so much money planning the trip for our anniversary.

She narrows her eyes. “No more, you’ll get premature wrinkles at twenty-four if you keep making that face. Let me help you with your makeup.”

* * *

“Two shots of tequila and two margaritas,” Lexi shouts over the music at the bartender.

Vu Ja De, the nightclub Lexi brought me to, is popping. Strobe lights flash over the crowded dance floor, making people scream and holler as they grind and press against each other. This club is notorious, known for getting people drunk as hell and having the best DJs. There are so many people, and I don’t recognize a single face in the crowd.

Honestly, my best friend couldn’t have chosen a better place to bring me.

He looks between the two of us with a knowing smile. “Going hard tonight, ladies?”

“It’s going to be so hard,” Lexi says, winking at him.

The bartender blushes at her innuendo and turns around to grab our drinks.

She makes a sound of appreciation. “Will you look at that?”

I laugh.

My friend twirls a piece of my hair, leaning her scantily clad body against mine. “I bet he could crack nuts with that ass.”

Slapping my hand over my mouth, I stifle a chortle. “You’re ridiculous.” I sneak a quick peek at his butt. Yeah, she’s not wrong. Those are some perky cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” she whispers into my ear.

I screech and shove her away. “Stop it.”

“Best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.” Lexi shrugs.

A guy next to her shoots me an inquisitive look. I bite my lip and let my gaze roam over his body. He’s wearing a casual navy button up T-shirt and dark-washed jeans. His biceps bulge when he picks up his drink and salutes me.

Lexi nudges me with her elbow. “Damn, you work fast, woman. Let’s at least take the shots first.”

The bartender drops the shot glasses in front of us, and another one slides our margaritas across the bar top.

Pulling my gaze from the handsome stranger with the chiseled jawline, I grab the shot glass.

“Fuck cheating boyfriends.” Lexi clinks her little glass with mine, sloshing a bit of tequila on my finger.

“No salt, no lime,” I sing-song to her.

She giggles. “We’ll be drinking from the bottle tonight.”

“Ready?”

“One, two, three, go!” she says all in one breath.

Oh fuck. I should have known she’d force it on me. I press the glass to my lips and let the tequila burn down my throat; the heat of it soothes the ache in my chest.

Or maybe that’s me deciding not to give a damn about Kevin and the pixie, at least not tonight. I’ll worry about them tomorrow.

Right now, I have one goal: get completely and totally smashed.