Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 27 (Kylie)

My body and my heart know one thing, and that is the promise of Vincent Stone. That is the curse of

addiction.

He is my unobtainable obsession.

“YOU had your chance to chase me made man, now it just isn't possible,” I say it to myself with

anguish and heartache pledged deep within my soul as I drop my seat and pick up the speed to my

new hot date.

Yes, my hot extra plus one is my car.

But this Mercedes I'm driving is years ahead of its time. I am the only person in the world that owns this

Cabriolet Night Edition.

A year ago while I was drooling over Vincent I was also getting my rocks off with a very hot son of one

of the Lead engineers of Mercedes.

The dummy car which stood on his side table while I fucked his brains out caught my eye.

After much later with him returning the favor twice, he happily informed me of his father's secret future

project.

Which in my mind, interpreted as highly valuable, and something I just had to have. With a neat eight-

figure price tag paid in Euro's, I did HAVE it. And just to sweeten the deal, I also purchased the rights to

the project for the next five years. Just to be sure.

It is empowering, and exhilarating to drive and own a car so good knowing that not even my brothers

had one like it. I wouldn't call it luck, I would say it is just the favor of having really rich parents and very

generous two older brothers.

I know one day soon I will have to make my own empire and possibly take over my papas and I am

ready for it.

Swerving, gliding, I take the roads with ease. Add in the fact that I left my family Christmas party, I think

I am feeling pretty good compared to a few moments ago.

Just twenty minutes ago I faced my stepbrother, who I have practically tied to my existence over

eighteen months ago with a full-on pledge of the crippling effect I am attuned to whenever he stepped

into a room and for once I hid it. I consider it as a step in the direction I need to step in to.

Now I am being chased by that said brother. I don't feel great, but I feel alive and ready for a good night

of wild partying and great company. When I take the next off-ramp and join the interstate heading out of

Liston Hills I know exactly where I and my hot date is heading.

It crosses my mind to give Vincent a heads up, but why should I? When has the jackass ever been

good to me? Never.

I crank up my Brett Young CD and let the road lead me to temptation because tonight I will be

delivering a shit load of evil come Saturday Morning.

The jaguar and its driver, Vincent, tag me the entire way.

A small minuscule part of me wonders what he wants. But mostly I wish he would give up on this and

leave me be.

Why is he so adamant to talk to me now.

Sorry isn’t going to take away the pain, it isn’t going to make me feel better.

I take the long way to Kanla and it’s closing on eleven at night when I get to the Farmhouse, known as

The Satan Sniper’s clubhouse.

The huge bonfire can be seen from the small dirt road and the long driveway that is packed with bikes. NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

I turn my car, and drive into the open gate, finding a parking. Rolling my eyes as my tail (Vincent) also

finds parking.

I jump out of my ride, not paying Vincent any mind as I walk to the back of my car, and open my boot

with my fingerprint.

Bending over I pull out the small kit bag that I keep around in case I decide to spend a night

somewhere. Inside my black backpack contains basic stuff- a toothbrush, toiletries, jeans, vest, and

boots. It is all I ever need.

I slam my car boot closed, as Vincent’s shiny shoes come into view.

The nip in the air and late-night breeze elicits a chill down my back as I stare into a pair of angry eyes.

“So you leave your family to come here? To a bunch of bikers, making me drive fucking hours?.”

I take a small step back, my mouth agape,

“Firstly I didn’t make you do anything, secondly where I go and what I do isn’t your fuckin’ business and

lastly I suggest you don’t let Kevin hear you talking to me like that, because he is here and happens to

be one of those bikers,” I say it as a warning and it isn’t an idle threat.

Kevin once hit David nearly into a coma when he heard David calling mama a bitch.

My brother lacks emotion, which doesn’t mean he will let anyone disrespect a woman. Especially his

own blood. And Vincent knows that, I know he sees the error of his ways when his face relaxes and he

takes a step back.

“I'm sorry, but I really need to talk to you.” He combs his fingers through his hair, which is now longer

than all those months ago.

“About what?” I ask him, slipping my backpack over my shoulder.

“Dakota, when we were looking for Reno’s killer, I kept hearing stories about your friend, whispers.”

My face heats, as a rush of discomfort, assault me at the mention of Diamond's real name, at the

mention of her name coming from Vincent of all people.

I knew eventually the Catelli family would find out but not now, especially because Diamond is working

for their sworn enemies.

“So what did you hear?” I ask the question, in a calm voice, which is the opposite of how I really feel.

“Enough to know that she is the reason my cousin was killed, Reno was protecting her.”

I don’t acknowledge his words, I don’t pay any heed to what he is saying.

To admit it or deny it would be a lie. The truth is much more than that. To understand the entire thing

would be for me to betray my friend, to betray my other brothers and that is something I would never

do. I would die, kill and lie to protect them.

“Sweet thang, I thought it was you.” Storm's voice has me spinning so fast I almost tumble and fall.

Instead of falling and tumbling to the hard ground and damaging my new dress and perfect skin,

Vincent grabs my arm, pulling me into his chest.

“This conversation is far from over Kylie, you and I are not done.” His whispered words heard so clearly

in my ear before he gives me a gentle push.

Just as I right myself, Storm's arm is wrapped around my waist.

“Miss me, Sweet girl.”

His words aren’t just a question to me but a statement and warning to Vincent.

Storm is territorial, he is claiming me like the biker he is. I think it is sweet, cute but really unnecessary.

It is Christmas and I don't want to ruin anyone's mood so I let it slide and walk with Storm to the bonfire

ignoring the man with the face that owns my soul staring daggers into my head.

“Thought you haven't seen the guy in a while.” Storm points out as his fingers flex around my waist.

“I didn't, guess he decided to show up for Christmas this year, past him as I was leaving.”

He chuckles,

“When I sent the invite didn't think you would show.”

“Gotta keep a man on his feet if he wants you in his bed.” I drawl, knowing he likes it when I do that.

He shakes his head with a big grin to his face.

“Does that said man get a kiss?”

I stop walking, we are on the corner of the farmhouse. The bonfire just on the hill with at least forty

bikers. I hear their lively shouts and curses and howling laughs.

I look at Storm, slip my backpack off my shoulder and shove it into his chest.

Storm laughs and I admit the guy has a really good laugh, who knew a biker could be so darn cute with

dimples.

More so today. I can see he is glad I made it, and I admit I am glad I came too.

Though my reasons are very different. It is refreshing that tonight I, Kylie Bray have a man who is

happy to see me. Even if it isn't the one I want.

I move to carry on with our trek, he stops me by grabbing my arm in a gentle yet firm caress, his eyes

serious as he looks at me under the outside lights.

Storm drops my bag, pulls me by my arm until I am plastered to his body, capturing my chin between

his roughened fingers.

I tilt my head, staring at him. I don't think a thought and neither does he as our mouths meet in a

languid dual of star-crossed lovers. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and we kiss for the first time like

we are more than just us.

Storm takes my mouth like I am his, and I don't stop him. I don't even allow myself an opportunity to

come to my senses and slow things down.

I kiss Storm like we could have something, I kiss him with a false sense of hope.

That night was the night I would say Storm moved into my life. It was on that day on the corner of the

Satan Sniper's clubhouse, under bright lights and watching eyes of a man that I didn't know was

watching did the Satan Sniper's vice president and I start our story. I'm not going to say that it didn't

end well, I am not going to say that It wasn't my fault he turned out the way he did.

Truth is, we are all pro-choice, but sometimes our choices become duty, sometimes those duties have

consequences that alter so many people's paths. Change so many lives. Sometimes our choices are

not our own, they are the outcome of people's actions.