Reckless – Episode 23&24

RECKLESS

Reckless – Episode 23&24

→ Out•Of•Control ←

[Book 1 in The Untamed Duet]

________________________

All rights reserved. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, or reposted in any form, or by any means without a BOLDLY written permission from ME.

Copyright © 2025

Naomi Cindy B.

___________________

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

[Five Minutes Later]

In her soaked clothes, Stacy sat in the spare room of the garage, her head her arms wrapped around her knees.

Even the chair she’s sitting on is wet with water from her clothes, and it’s dripping to the ground.

She’s not looking up, but she could feel the movements of the people inside the room with her.

They’ve been ignoring her since five minutes ago when she entered.

They kept going about their activities like she’s an unwanted visitor which she understands.

After all, their genius was arrested the last time she came here (though involuntary) but her presence still caused mayhem.

She slowly lifted her head, sweeping a look around the room as the cruel tentacles of cold seeped deeper under her sensitive skin.

She’s so damn cold, and she’s still shivering so much she could hear her teeth clashing faintly.

Trevor sat on a nearby chair, eating soft guavas

As he ate, he played games on his phone with his other hand.

Matteo is seated too, but he’s currently rinsing a bike plug with fuel, so he’s ignoring her too.

The smell of fuel made her stomach dip, but she held back her guts.

The only person standing in the room is Cove—beside a large table, and his laptop is on top of the table.

He’s working on it.

Since she got to know him, he’s either saying something harsh or he’s with his laptop or he’s repairing cars.

Patterns.

It’s become a circle at this point.

The bruise on his lip side is gone, leaving just an unnoticeable redness, but his jaw is still plastered, and she feels slightly guiltyas she watched his jaw move under the plaster.

She secretly brought out a small pack of effective wound treatments from her pullover pocket.

Knowing he’d never take it from her, she dropped it unnoticed behind the chair she’s sitting on.

She had a peek at his laptop screen and saw he’s going through the work of his tutorial students.

He probably gave them assignments.

Assignment on the first day of tutoring? Strict.

It’s as if he’s aware of her eyes cos he suddenly shut his laptop down.

He turned around, and she quickly looked away as he walked up to her, stopping some inches away.

“Five minutes. You’ve got five minutes to say whatever you wanna say. One,” he counted.

She jumped down her chair.

“Come to the Mixer, dance with me!” She didn’t miss a single beat.

“Why would I dance with you?” His jaws grinded subtly. “Why would I even do a dance?”

She moved closer.

“I know you don’t need the ten marks. After all, you’d surely get full marks in your tests and exams and still get your A, but I’m not like you…I’m not a genius, and I’m trying to boost my GPA this semester—”

“Talk to your dad, he only has to pay the lecturers and you’d get your A,” he cut in sharply.

Now he’s already walking back to the laptop, but she followed.

Trevor minimized his phone game and shifted close to Matteo.

“Am I the only one feeling heat despite the cold?” Matteo muttered.

“You can say that again,” Trevor’s eyes shadowed. “It feels so good to see Albert’s daughter humble.”

“If my dad payed for my academics, then my GPA shouldn’t be dying as it is now.” Stacy said, standing beside him in from of his laptop which is now open again.

Zendaya’s assignment is the one he’s currently looking at.

“My dad might be rash and all that, but he’d never do what my mum is against. My late mum always said she wanted me to attain everything fair and square so people won’t later say I got everything I achieved through my dad’s money and influence. Dad would never pay lecturers to increase my GPA.” Stacy continued talking.

“I will not come to the Mixer, you can at least tell your dad to pay the school management to change your partner. That’s not interfering, is it? Bad Idea,” He faced her, and her eyes stilled.

She didn’t bat her lids till he returned his eyes back to the screen.

“It’s Stacy, not Bad Idea, and not Prostitute. Stop calling me both, especially the second one.” She said.

“You’re subtly ok with Bad Idea? Cool,” he muttered back.

“Covey!” She snapped.

He looked at her, his eyes unreadable. “It’s garage boy,”

“I won’t call you that again, so stop calling me a Prostitute…. I didn’t fûck you for money before, so wrap it up and just—”

“Too bad, I’m already used to it” he muttered, voice still clipped.

Now he’s done looking at Zendaya’s assignment, and he’s sending a mail to her about it.

As he typed, Stacy watched.

Cove’s Mail: Are you sure you even passed through first year? You might wanna go back and carry over all the first year courses. Again, leave computer science alone.

He was about to click send when Stacy quickly held his wrist.

He cast her a quizzical look.

“I thought you were only harsh with words, turns out you’re even harsher with mails. Don’t send that to Daya, she cries easily.” She said.

Cove ignored her and just pressed send with his second hand.

Stacy gasped a little, and he shut down the laptop.

“Five minutes over…” He said pointedly, causing her to gasp again, but she couldn’t talk before he began stalking out of the room.

She followed.

“Hey! Covey!”

His back was all he saw till they arrived at the garage gate.

She was still trying to talk when he opened the gate and threw her out.

She almost fell.

The rain strokes are lighter now—between shower and drizzle.

When her skin received the wetness again, she became hyper-aware that she’s still soaked, and her cold returned in waves.

“Will you come to the Mixer?” She asked hopefully.

“Sorry if any of my lifestyle gave you the impression that I love gatherings.” He declared and returned into the garage with a smirk she doesn’t quite understand.

Stacy didn’t return to her car till he disappeared completely.

The leather seat of the billion-dollar car got wet lines immediately her arse settled on it.

Her driver is absent—she drove herself here—and stayed in the rain to gain sympathy, but that guy doesn’t look like he has any to spare.

But that was that smirk on his face?

She picked her phone and texted the only person she could think of…

Stacy: I went to his garage to persuade him about the Mixer, but he just threw me out and… smirked.

Dorian replied instantly like his fingers were waiting on top of his screen before.

Jerk: Fabio? The fact that you expect me to figure him out with his smirk is laughable, Stace.

Stacy: You’re his friend…duh

Jerk: Still doesn’t make him very easy. I can read him only when I’m with him…I’m not a shaman.

Stacy: Then…

Jerk: But he rarely carries any expression on that muted face of his, so if he smirked, it might mean he’ll come or he’ll not. Let’s just hope he’s gonna come, ok?

Stacy: Let’s just hope?

Jerk: I care, Brat. If your tango king bails on the Mixer night, it’s worse than a groom abandoning his bride on the alter. You won’t only lose marks, you’d also be disgraced so yeah… Let’s hope he comes.

Stacy didn’t type again after that, she dropped her phone, hoping fervently that Friday night won’t be disgraceful for her cos she has lots of haters who’d be willing to jest.

She grabbed the steering, but just before she’d awaken the engines, her mind went to the man in black who chased her two nights ago.

What if he’s somewhere around now, lurking and awaiting her?

It’s raining right now just like that night, so what if…

She let go of her steering, taking her phone to dial Anita.

“Stacy I was just about to call. Will you be spending the night at Kehlani’s place?” Anita’s worried voice hit the phone.

“I actually lied about Kehlani’s place, I’m at the garage…”

“Wait what! Cove’s garage? Stacy why? Are you that eagar to put him in trouble again?” Anita gasped.

“But I had to go convince him to come to the Mixer, or I lose marks,” Stacy grumbled.

“Since when did you start caring about marks?” Anita sounded awed.

Stacy relaxed on her seat. “Can you come drive me? I’m too paranoid to drive myself right now.”

“Don’t be. Your guards are around you. They left the house with you, you just didn’t know.” Anita replied.

“For real?” Stacy looked around, and truly, she sighted four black cars around her on that garage road.

She immediately recognized them as the guards cars, so she calmed.

“Thank you, Anita,” She took a relieved breath.

“I’ll be expecting you back, I made chicken marsala,” Anita announced, and Stacy smiled.

She gave the garage one more glance before driving down the street.

Her convoy of guards drove protectively after her, and shortly after they went out of sight, a blue-black sleek car drove out of a dark corner in the street.

Inside, Dorian sat at the backseat, his driver sat professionally on the driver’s seat, and two guards sat on both sides of him.

He actually came here with plans to inform Cove about the modelling gig he got for him, but he instead met Stacy waiting in front of the gate.

He saw when Cove nearly broke her shoulder bone before leaving her there in the rain.

He saw how she waited in front of that gate, squatting in the rain.

And when Cove finally came to open the gate for her, he thought maybe his friend is finally a bit humane, but he was wrong cos five minutes later, he threw her out.

He witnessed everything silently from this car, and now that Stacy is gone, he could only bite his lip.

“Wonder if my best friend even breaths at all…” He muttered, getting himself a thin cigar.

“Do you want me to drive into the garage, sir?” The driver asked from the front as one of the guards sparked fire on the cigar for him.

“Nah,” Dorian looked at the garage gate, his gaze lingering for a while. “I’ll just see him in campus tomorrow. Take me home.”

The driver obliged.

—

[Outright Media House, Malibu – 11PM]

Outright in Malibu is Albert’s second Media House in America—there are ten in America alone.

It’s the most popular and the hardest to gain direct access to.

Booking an appointment with Albert Montana himself might take weeks—if not months.

As he sat behind his painfully expensive desk, monitoring the incoming and outgoing news in the city, his mind is in a split.

One part is focused, and the other part is on his daughter who is still very mad at him. He can’t even see her face directly except for the pictures her guards sent some minutes ago.

Pictures of her in the repair garage….waiting in the rain only because she wanted to convince the garage boy to attend the Mixer.

He can just pay off the school management to change her partner, but Stacy has always relied on her own efforts academically, following her late mum’s wishes, so he can’t even interfere.

However, it’s like thorns to his side as he watched her wait in that rain and how the boy later threw her out.

Who even raised that guy?

His thoughts were interrupted when the 12am news report landed on his desk from the anchor’s office.

He almost started checking it out when one of his personal guards entered with a brown parcel.

“Where’s Stacy?” Albert spranged up.

“Rest assured, reports came that she’s at home and very fine. Anita served her dinner and made sure she took flu and fever medications. I just thought I had to deliver this,” the guard dropped the parcel.

With a relieved sigh, Albert took it and tore it open.

They’re clean pictures of the strange man in black who chased Stacy from two nights ago. Cut out from the street camera footages.

“He was following her from the subway station, and he chased her into the alleyway before she escaped with pepper spray,” the guard explained clearly.

Albert kept checking the pictures out one by one, carefully.

Till he got to the last three ones where Cove walked past her, when he came back for her, and when he carried her on his back.

“He really did not kidnap her,” Albert muttered, sitting.

“That’s right,” The guard said. “If he hadn’t carried her that night, there’s a high chance that she’d still be caught and kidnapped by the man in black.”

“He wore face cap in all the pictures, and he kept his face down, making sure it’s hidden. He’s careful.” Albert muttered with a nod.

“Exactly sir, his face is undetectable… for now.” The guard agreed.

“Why was he chasing Stacy?” Albert glanced up immediately.

“He made a call in one of the pictures, and that just proves he works for someone who we suspect to be one of your enemies in this media field, sir. You have too many ops,” the guard stepped back.

Albert sent him out of the office and kept staring at the pictures.

Another resentful enemy is on the loose? Going after his daughter?

Last time an enemy went feral on him, he nearly lost his life cos he was shot on the tummy during a media outlet donation, and now his precious daughter?

He can’t live without Stacy, so whoever this is has to be curbed before it blows off the roof.

Also…the Cove boy.

Now it’s obvious he was mistreated.

He should be compensated, but his daughter safety comes first, so he dialled his trained security bureau.

“Release a dozen of guards to join Stacy’s guards from now on. Send their payment details, they’ll be added to the payroll.” He ordered.

—

[Young Mansion, 12am]

Scott is only just arriving. He had drinks with his friends till late, and they all slept off at Remo’s mansion, but he woke up an hour ago and drove himself home.

He got out of his car and swept his gaze around the building, thinking several way out in his head.

He wants to kill Kane tonight. That bastard won’t get to see the light of tomorrow. That’s what he was planning in the car till he got home.

He even took Remo’s gun for the mission. Remo and Frank are the only gun owners in the gang. They’re the most notorious anyways.

Scott carried himself into the dead mansion. At this time of the night, lights are off, but he’s the son of the house anyways, so he could make out the way even in the dark.

A sharp breaking sound hit his ears when he walked past his father’s bedroom, and he stopped in the choky darkness.

Silas sleeps in that room with Owen.

He slept in it with Scott’s mother when she was still alive, but now it’s Owen’s space, so whatever the breaking sound is, it’s not his cup of champagne.

His land of fucks is barren, so he continued his walk to Kane’s room.

He cracked the door open slowly, making sure no sound escaped the hinges. His head popped in slowly, and his hand pressed down on the gun he’s holding, but what he saw made him give up on the gun.

Kane is in bed, the white duvet pulled completely over him. His head isn’t even out. He’s fast asleep.

Good.

Thanks to the bleak sleep light that’s on at the south side of the wall, he’s seeing his protuberance in the bed clearly enough.

He took three careful steps inside, another four to the bedside.

There are two pillows on the bed, but one is free, meaning Kane has the other one beneath his head.

Scott picked the free pillow, positioning it perfectly.

He’s just gonna choke him to death with the pillow.

With one precise dip, he pressed the pillow down to Kane’s covered face, but instead of wriggles, the spot went down like he caught emptiness.

The hell??

Scott quickly raised the pillow and the duvet together, and a unplanned gasp tore from his throat when he saw that instead of Kane under the duvet, it’s a wrap of clothes.

He hasn’t digested that shock when the room lights came on brightly, and a low laughter filled the room.

Scott whipped around, only to see Kane standing by the wall behind him with his arms crossed over his chest, his black sleeping robe nearly crawling on the ground.

“The rate at which you and your gang are predictable is annoying. If y’all venture into filmmaking, Netflix will categorize your film under Must Not Watch Series… boring!” He spat.

“Tell me if this is boring too!” Scott spat and pulled the gun instantly.

The trigger responded to the pull of his finger. He shot at Kane.

Kane definitely didn’t see that coming, cos the bullet grazed his arm before dropping on the ground.

He bled, and shockwaves hit his bones. Then, Scott pulled the trigger again, but before it could sound, Kane jumped at him, stopping him from shooting.

They landed in bed, Kane on top.

The gun fell out of Scott’s grip, landing on the floor.

Scott’s wicked punch greeted Kane’s face, but Kane was always ready. He returned it to Scott’s jaw.

Both bled, hate mixing with something darker than night.

They rolled on the bed till they were close to the headboard, then their punches met their faces again, and their mouth bled to their faces.

Their heads came up at the same time too, headbutting so hard their nerves exploded in their heads.

Scott pressed Kane’s grazed arm, and Kane in turn pressed Scott’s stabbed arm. Their blood stained the sheets as their eyes locked.

“F+k it!” Scott groaned painfully.

“Cli+!” Kane cussed painfully too.

Then their hands went to their necks. Kane is still on top, so he pinned Scott down, but Scott didn’t slack.

He raised his hand to Kane’s neck too, squeezing hard.

They both choked, spitting blood on the covers again.

Their eyes reddened, and their nerves appeared on their foreheads.

“I’m going to kill you with my bare fuckin hands!” Scott promised.

“I’m going to kill you with something else. My hands are too precious to kill a warthog like you!” Kane promised back, their necks still squeezing under the locks of their hands.

The door flipped open, and Owen came in with Silas, both wide-eyed when they saw the ongoing.

Blood on the sheets, gun and bullet on the floor, wounds on the boys faces, and their hands on their necks.

The gun is silent, so they didn’t hear the gunshot, but they heard the sounds of the punches, so they came rushing here immediately.

“Scott!” Silas yelled.

“Kane!” Owen followed.

Their voices didn’t matter. The boys didn’t let go.

Silas jumped on the bed, flipping them apart forcefully.

Kane still wanted to grab Scott after that, but Owen blocked his way.

“Enough already!” She shouted at his bloody face.

“He entered this room with a gun to off me!” Kane showed his grazed arm. “If you’re gonna face someone, f+kin face him!” Kane shouted at her face.

“What!” Owen gasped.

Silas looked at the gun on the floor, then at Scott who looks mad.

“A gun? In my house?”

“Now don’t talk like you don’t have more than a gun you sicko!” Scott snarled angrily, his face much bloodier than Kane’s

He unwrapped the bandage on his stabbed arm, and Silas’ eyes shadowed under his glasses.

“He did this to me in the morning, I wasn’t gonna sit still and just nurse the wound. I was only retaliating and I haven’t even started!” Scott spat.

Then he waltzed out of the room.

“Scott!” Silas went after him.

Now it’s just Owen and Kane.

Owen gave Kane a ‘good job’ look, and Kane came closer, glaring.

“If you think I’m doing this for you, you’re a fool. I hate you as much as I hate Scott!” He pushed Owen off his way before entering the bathroom.

Owen called the maids to take care of the bloody sheets, and when she heard the water running in the shower, she left the room.

Inside the shower, Kane smiled like a cryptic as the cold water stabbed his facial wounds, making it hurt.

He smiled, even as his blood made rivulets on the pale white floor.

—

[Morning – Zendaya’s Mansion]

Zendaya hasn’t left the front of her laptop since Cove sent the disparaging reply to her assignment last night.

He gave them assignments, and she answered the questions to the best of her knowledge, but turns out the best of her knowledge is muddy to him.

His reply sat on her laptop screen since last night, and she has refused to stop staring. Now she has deep dark circles.

She’s wearing his shirt. She has turned it to her sleepwear, and she only wears a panty under.

Anytime she wears it, she feels like he’s with her cos of that scent, and as she stared at the screen, she bunched a part of the shirt in her palm, tightly.

He won’t dance with Stacy.

He’d never do such.

A damn egocentric guy like him would never.

Suddenly, his harsh message didn’t hurt anymore. She smiled widely, checking her phone.

There are two messages.

Tasha: Hey lover girl, what was your score on his assignment?

Zendaya smiled again. At this point, Tasha seems like the only one who cares about her feelings.

She swiped down, expecting Stacy’s text, but none from her.

Since the stuff about switching places, they haven’t talked.

Is she supposed to beg on her knees before they’d resume talking.

She sighed, checking the second message. It’s from computer science major group.

Trinidad is the course president, so she made the post.

~ Impromptu coding class this morning at the computer lab. 8am.

Zendaya gasped, checking the time. It’s 7:30!

“Shit! I’m almost late!” She spranged up, knocking her phone off without caring about the crash.

She ran into the bathroom.

—

[Montana Mansion]

“Stacy?” Anita called softly as she came out of the kitchen with her morning espresso coffee.

Stacy ate her breakfast burrito ten minutes ago, and she was supposed to sit at the dinning till Anita would bring out her coffee, so where’s she?

“Stacy?” Anita’s voice rose.

“She’s at the second room,” a guard replied by the door.

Anita moved there immediately, and when she arrived, she met Stacy in the position she expected.

She’s sitting in bed, holding a framed picture of her mom.

This room used to be her mom’s, but since she died, it has been empty except for her stuff.

Because of this room, Stacy and Albert refused to move out of this mansion. They feel like they can still feel her here.

The only thing Albert does yearly is rebuild to his taste, but the room always stays untouched.

Anita sat beside Stacy in bed, maintaining the silence but staring at the picture frame with Stacy.

Her mom is a brunette with short height which Stacy inherited. She’s a midsize woman who looks disciplined even in the picture.

“I’d put all my money on the line to wake her up, Anita.” Stacy said.

“It’s a pity I didn’t get to meet her. She was a good mother,” Anita smiled.

“I know, right?” Stacy dropped the framed picture on the bedstand.

She took the coffee and downed it.

“And I’m glad you’re finally taking your academics serious. Who knew a time like this would come?” Anita teased, and Stacy smiled.

She returned the cup to the tray.

“But not to the point of staying in the rain for that long. You caught a terrible cold last night!” Anita scolded, and Stacy rushed out.

“I won’t take scolding this morning!” She blocked her ears with her palms as she climbed down the staircase.

She dressed heavily this morning cos of her cold. She wore puffed sweater, long purple condom p+nts that’s wide at the ends—almost palazzo, and her favorite dagger heels.

She jumped in her car at the park, and before Anita could arrive, the driver already zoomed out.

“Have a nice day at school!” Anita shouted after the car.

Her phone made a low sound, and she pulled it out to behold a text from her daughter.

She was typing a reply as she returned inside.

—

[Studio Apartment]

Trevor is ready for school, but he’s still waiting for Cove, so as he waited, he tied his sneaker laces.

He’s a brilliant highschool student in his sophomore year.

When he was done trying, Cove came out with his terry-clocth towel wrapped around his well-sculpted waist, water crawling his skin.

“Is it just me? Or your n1pples are kinda funny?” Trevor commented. “Guys are supposed to have dark or brown tiny nipples, but yours is actually faintly pink and it’s—”

Before he could finish, Cove threw a lotion bottle at him, and Trevor ran out of the apartment, giggling

“I took some lunch money from your wallet!!” He shouted from outside as he ran down the front staircase.

Five minutes later, Cove was done dressing up in a jean and another one of his ash hoodies.

His phone is already blowing up with messages about the impromptu 8am class, but he has no plans to attend.

He knows everything there is to know about coding, so attending the class would only mean wasting his time.

He was about to take his laptop backpack when he saw the small treatment pack on the bed.

Trevor brought it from the garage this morning. He found it on the chair Stacy sat on.

Cove went to the small mirror and removed the plaster on his jaw.

He unzipped the treatment pack and applied a little healing lotion from it to the wound. He used a new plaster from the pack on the wound too.

He zipped it back and dropped it.

He left the apartment at 9, and he didn’t blink when he saw Trinidad waiting in front of it.

She leaned on her bike, looking up at the apartment with a smile.

Cove looked around…

“If you’re looking for Elmira and Roxy, they’re already in campus, I only came to offer a ride if your strong head will accept,” she said.

He went down the staircase, taking a close look at her bike.

He might have intense hate for cars, but he loves bikes.

Not like he can’t buy a bike for himself, but he chose not to buy.

“I’m gonna drive,” he said.

“Deal!” Trinidad straightened.

“And I’m gonna fuel the bike at the gas station,” he added.

She smiled, giving his shoulder a slight hit. “You really don’t like free things, I know. Fuel it.”

With a smirk, Cove got on, and she climbed behind him.

Smoothly, he rode off.

—

[RIDE University, 10AM -Skating Rink]

Remo has been on the ice with Frank for an hour, sliding aggressively.

This is the purging spot for his anger, so he went all out.

He hasn’t seen Max or Scott, just Frank with himself.

“We were planning the downfall of Dorian and Cove initially, but Kane had to force his way into the list.” Frank said suddenly.

Remo slowed down, holding a barricade beside him, but before he could fire up the conversation, Kane himself entered the rink.

Wearing his skating shoes, he got on the ice, sliding off sharply.

Seeing his bruised face, Frank and Remo exchanged glances, knowing for sure it’s the work of Scott.

Scott finally avenged them!

But their pride shattered when Scott entered with a more bruised face.

“Holy shit!” Frank gasped.

“It’s not what I’m thinking, right?” Remo pulled off his shoes.

Before Scott could reply, Max entered the rink, and he gasped too, seeing Scott and Kane’s face.

Battered.

“What the…”

That was all he could say, cos his eyes met with Kane’s across the rink.

Kane have him the ‘i’m coming for you’ look.

Afterwards, Kane left the rink, and as he exited, his eyes met with Scott’s.

He smiled poisonously at Scott.

Scott’s eyes froze, depicting venom till Kane went out of the rink.

It’s like he only came to show himself to Max and Scott.

“What the f+k happened!” Max demanded from Scott.

But even Scott hasn’t answered when Tania barged into the rink.

Too much interruptions.

Tania came for Max and Scott.

Not minding Scott’s face, she punched him, then she punched Max too.

“Tania!” Max growled.

“Where the f+k were you f+kers yesterday!!” Tania yelled angrily.

And that was when Kehlani stomped into the rink, angry.

“Why the f+k would you slap him?” She pushed Tania off Max.

“Talk to your boyfriend to stop being a prick! If he’s tired of being the assistant team coach, then he should drop the position!” Tania snapped, then she faced Scott.

“And you…I’m telling you if we lose any march this semester, I’ll leave your damn team!”

She left the rink, and Kehlani pulled an handkerchief out of her purse, wiping Max’s lips with it.

After wiping a bit, she kissed him, but he broke it fast.

“My lip is wounded, this ain’t the right time to kiss…” He cringed.

“I’m sorry, but I love you…” Kehlani smiled beautifully.

Max’s phone vibrated in his pocket, definitely another nude picture from Elmira which he can’t wait to open.

He faced the guys.

“Today isn’t for Dorian or Cove or Kane. Today, we focus on the campus.” He said, then he held Kehlani’s hand and left with her.

Scott dropped a message on the football team group immediately for today’s football practice. It’s gonna be from noon till 10 tonight.

He left the rink too, leaving just Frank and Remo again.

“Max and Scott can focus on campus, we’ll focus on those bastards,” Remo said as he prepared for a bath.

“I agree,” Frank shrugged.

Elmira strolled inside with Roxy, and Remo’s eyes darkened.

“I’m sure you saw your hookup mate leaving with his girlfriend,” he said.

“I need your help, Remo.” Elmira spoke up, resting on the thick barricade metal.

Remo stood.

“I expected Max to have jilted Kehlani for long, but he seems to be finding it difficult. Kehlani knows his password, so I only need you to send her a text tonight that she should check Max’s phone. I want her to see our sex videos on it and just die. Then… Max can be completely mine…” Elmira explained.

“I trust Remo to do a good job,” Roxy smiled diabolically.

“You met the right devil, we were getting bored here.” Frank laughed.

Remo chuckled, “wait for it.”

—

[Cove’s Tutorial Hall]

There’s a two hours break from 12 to 2, and Cove decided to fix today’s tutorial for that time.

None of his students complained, they all gathered there as ordered.

Trinidad came in her jersey though, dressed football.

“My free period is for football, I already told you. Just send me the soft copy of the notes, trust me to assimilate fast.” She said.

Cove replied with a nod, again she left the class.

Zendaya followed her out, and obstructed her way. Trinidad stopped with an unwelcoming scowl.

“Why did you ride with Covey to school this morning?” She queried, and Trinidad scoffed.

“Seriously did you join this tutorial to learn? Or to stake claims on Cove?”

Zendaya didn’t reply.

Instead, she grabbed Trinidad by the v-neck of her jersey, slamming her back on the wall roughly.

“Don’t even look at Cove, talk more of riding with him. He’s never gonna be yours!” She threatened.

Trinidad smiled. “So who’s he gonna later belong to? You?” She laughed. “Hippopotamus!”

And Zendaya slapped her, the sound of the slap so personal.

Trinidad didn’t slap. She returned the slap in form of a punch to Zendaya’s left eye, and Zendaya staggered back.

“I was planning to give that punch to Scott and Max for not coming for practice yesterday, it’s good you took it on their behalf, desperate thing!” Trinidad spat and went down the stairwell, her short hair bouncing.

For ten painful minutes, Zendaya’s eyes couldn’t open.

—

[Twenty Minutes Later]

The tutorial is majorly focused on yesterday’s assignment.

Cove took his time to explain for those who missed few points, so he’s currently surrounded by the students on their feet while he’s seated.

They’re all concentrated, and Zendaya joined them when she entered.

Everyone’s asking questions, and Cove is answering, but Zendaya found it so hard to answer.

Also, her eyes is still twitching.

It was still ongoing when Dorian entered the hall.

As if planned, Stacy entered the hall too right behind him.

“I’m guessing you’re here to persuade him to attend the Mixer again?” Dorian smiled.

“I feel like my secret is all blown now that you actually know,” she sat on a free chair, and he sat in front of her.

“You wore something covering today? That’s new,” he noticed her white puffed sweater.

“Of course, Sherlock.” She made faces, and he nodded.

“Cute, but you look different. If you wore it cos he called you a Prostitute, then it’s wrong. You’re not one, so words don’t have to get to you.”

“Oi, it’s cold outside, and I was in the rain last night, so it’s normal to dress heavily. Seriously, poke-nosing should be in your portfolio,” she said, and he chuckled.

“You got the address of the selfcon already, right?” He asked, though he hasn’t sent it yet.

“Got what? I got nothing…” She replied, and he took her phone.

Just like he wanted, he typed the address and time by himself.

“Cringe but cute phone pouch,” he commented as he typed.

She snatched her phone back, and as she frowned, he smiled again.

By the slightly open window, Angela’s prickly eyes are staring inside the hall, watching the two.

She followed the guards guarding Dorian in school today only because she wanted to see him more.

But now seeing him with Stacy sends jolts of jealousy to her again.

Ten more minutes, Cove was done with his students.

Dorian left Stacy and went to see him first, “Hey, Fabio.”

Cove’s gaze dipped.

Dorian took one from the cup of pineapple sweet on the table, but when he tasted it, he spit it.

“F+k, I’ve always hated pineapple…”

“Why are you here, Wesley?” Cove gave him full attention.

“Here’s the thing,” Dorian leaned forward slowly. “I talked to Louis Vuitton CEO in Palm Springs, submitted your profile, and he liked your aesthetics. You’re to come for full discuss on Sunday. Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to pay for the flight.” Dorian said cheerfully.

And he instantly saw a thick line of something like anger and wariness crossing Cove’s eyes.

“Did i ask for it?” Cove started. “Am I a charity case to you too? Did I ever complain to you that I’m broke?”

Dorian frowned.

“Fabio you’re—”

“I don’t wanna model! I don’t wanna be known! I don’t want my face on anyone’s screen! I’m ok rotting at the garage so get my damn profile out of the modelling industry!”

Dorian relaxed, then anger crossed his features too.

“You know what’s gonna be the end of you?” He stood. “This higher-than-kilimanjaro ego of yours…damn… you’re a f+kin cûnt!”

With that, he stormed out of the hall, but Cove never moved.

He sat there, still so angry….till Stacy came to him.

Sensing his anger, she just dropped a note on his desk and left the hall without looking back.

Cove gave her back view a short glance before opening the small note.

COME TO THE MIXER. I HAVE A TUTORIAL WITH DORIAN AT 7:30. I WOULD APPRECIATE IF YOU DROP A POSITIVE REPLY BEFORE THEN.

That’s what’s inside.

He squashed it between his palm, but he didn’t throw it away.

Zendaya is the only remaining student in the hall, and as she witnessed the scenes, she folded her fists till her knuckles nearly cracked.

—

[Mind Garden, 7PM]

Mind Garden is the name Dorian gave to his selfcon down the city.

Though, it can’t exactly be called a selfcon, but it’s apt design made Dorian conclude it’s one.

It’s a small brick building with tall windows, soft jazz humming in the background, and warm amber lighting that makes everything feel intimate but not suspicious.

When he was coming from San Francisco to this place, he made sure he got his mansion for living, and this place to hide from the city perils.

Stacy promised to arrive at 7:30, but Dorian arrived since 6.

The tutorial books have already been arranged, but he didn’t open them.

He has been vocalizing his upcoming solo release in the studio cos this place has an inbuilt studio too.

When he came out of the studio at 7:30 and dropped his guitar, he expected Stacy’s knock to hit the door but nothing came.

He picked his phone, and her text lit up the screen immediately.

Brat: Will be there in ten more minutes, wait!

He smiled and was about to drop the phone when his mind went to Cove.

He thought of calling him cos they haven’t talked since he left in his tutorial hall.

“Dealing with him is suicide in disguise,” he muttered, then he received a text…

From Angela.

Angel: I swear, Rian… I’ve never had this much menstrual cramps before. Can you at least come stay with me?

Dorian switched off the phone and picked a apple drink for himself in the freezer. He was drinking and waiting for Stacy to arrive.

—

[A Road]

Cove has been waiting since five minutes ago.

Matteo ordered for a car engine, and the supplier was giving shit that he can’t come to the garage to drop it, so Cove is here to collect the engine.

He didn’t pay much attention to the few passing cars, the malfunctioning street lamp at the other side of the road, or the broken road camera.

He just wants to get the engine and fuvk out of this road, but fate had other plans cos a Mazda suddenly stopped beside him on that road.

It nearly crushed him, but he was quick to move back.

A big man dropped out of the car, looking at Cove like a hunter that just found his next game.

“You were sent to break my legs?” Cove muttered. “Never knew there’d be people interested in my death in this rotten city.”

“You’re something else, Covey Fabio,” the man gave him a lopsided grin, his face tightening. “You beat the men at the warehouse till they all landed in EU at the general hospital.”

Cove’s eyes didn’t change. Neither shocked nor surprised, but he smirked slightly, lips curling.

“You sent the swines to me? I guess I must have taken something valuable from you then?”

“Initially,” the big man stepped close, invading Cove’s space. “I thought you were just a garage boy who luckily bagged a sèxy full-package girlfriend like Zendaya, so I sent the warehouse guys to kill you. If you’re gone, Zendaya is gonna look at me.”

He stepped closer again.

“But you beat all the guys so bad I was awed, so I started running my searches. I couldn’t find a clean picture of you, but then Louis Vuitton uploaded your picture in their upcoming models page this morning, and I luckily got the picture before it was taken down in the evening, and through the picture, I found out something crazy,” he smiled.

Then he raised an hand to Cove’s shoulder, touching.

He. Touched.

“You’re incredible, Cove. Hiding in that repair garage like the fucker that you are. I don’t even have to kill you anymore, I only have to open my mouth, and you’re over.” He muttered, grinning again.

Cove’s thorning eyes didn’t blink, and his expression didn’t shake as the man grinned at his face.

But his grin didn’t last, cos Cove suddenly gave him a push.

A hard, violent push.

As big as the man is, he fell back, and his body rolled to the road.

Unluckily for him, a car was speeding past, and his luck ran out completely cos before he could get up, he was hit

The car tyre crushed his two legs to mash, and it also pressed his chest, bursting the skin in two places.

And the car didn’t stop.

The driver made a U-turn and sped off immediately he saw he hit someone that badly.

The man lay still in the middle of the road, gasping desperately for breaths as blood soaked his body completely, gushing out of his mouth too.

Five careful steps was all it took for Cove to get to him, and gosh…

Seeing him blood-soaked on that silent road made him satisfied. The way his eyes stayed open, staring up at the dark sky without any hope.

Good riddance.

He raised his hand, “hel…p…me.”

Cove kicked that hand back to the ground, then his eyes twisted.

“If you knew, you should have kept it to yourself,” he muttered, watching as the man took his last breath.

Then his words hit his head…

“LOUIS VUITTON UPLOADED YOUR PICTURE IN THEIR UPCOMING MODELS PAGE THIS MORNING, AND I LUCKILY GOT THE PICTURE…”

Dorian. Dorian’s move caused this occurrence, and Dorian deserves a little.. little punishment for it.

He was already walking away from that road when he retrieved his phone and went to mass comm major group. It wasn’t hard to copy Stacy’s phone number from there.

He dialled it straight, and she picked as straight as he dialled.

“Hello? Who’s this?” She asked in her usual alpha female tone.

“Come with your major syllabus to the garage, right now. I’m willing to give you tutorials.” He replied.

“Wait…Cove?” She gasped.

He went silent.

“But Dorian already—”

He cut the call before she could finish talking, leaving her to make her choice herself.

An ambulance drove past him, obviously to go take the dead man, and as the headlights caught his freezing-cold face, he cut through a corner, slipping into darkness.

TBC.