Revelations
Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm really sorry for the delay in posting. I'm really busy with my end of semester news! I have the story fully planned in my head, so I'll be quicker to upload and this story may get over soon. Please keep the comments, reviews and PMs coming!
Warning: Strong language in this chapter.
Swearing, I pulled away from the gorgeous girl in front of me. She looked disappointed, but concerned too. "Who's Mike?" she whispered, adjusting her dress to cover her beautiful body, "And why does he want Adam?" "I'll tell you later. Gotta go deal with him now." I muttered grimly, pushing my way past my boys and striding towards Mike. He stood at the small exit, his girl beside him. They had that "I'm gonna do good" look on their faces, an' it totally riled me up."Whaddaya want, Mike?" I asked arrogantly, drawing myself up to my full six feet three inches. He didn't bat an an eyelid. "I want the 19 - year - old boy you turned into a stripper. I want to give him a better life." he said calmly. I laughed. "I turned him into a stripper? You were the one who brought him to me, ya motherfucker! Now that you're a big furniture store owner don't act like you're some messiah an' I'm the bad guy for giving a kid on the streets a job!" I growled. Mike's eyes flashed. "You don't seem to care how much he drinks or how much weed he smokes as long as he brings in money, do you? You're killing his future even before it starts. You bloody asshole." I launched myself at Mike, punching him and hitting him. He got in a few good punches too. Richie grabbed him and Mark grabbed me, struggling to part us. Mike's girlfriend said, loudly and clearly, "Mike, he's not worth it. Here comes Adam. Let's just take him and go." That made me turn around. That fuckin' traitor Adam was standin' behind me, wearin' jeans, a white T-shirt and a red an' yellow jacket. He was carryin' a duffel bag over his shoulder. He seemed sober. He looked at me uncertainly. "You wanna go, kid?" I asked him sarcastically, "Then go. I don't give a fuck. But don' forget that all the money you've stuffed into that duffel bag? Yeah, I made that happen."
A half hour after the fucker left, I was sittin' at the bar with Rod an' Mark, who'd just finished his show with Richie, when I realized Laila was missin'. "Where's Laila?" I asked, lookin' up from the glass of whisky Rod had poured me to calm me down. Rod and Mark exchanged a glance. "She left," said Rod, "She was standing behind you while Mike was...accusing you. When he got to the part about you...spoiling Adam, her expression changed. She just turned around and walked away." "Oh, fuck." I said quietly, resting my head between my hands. I thought for a while and then stood up. "Where're you going, boss?" Mark asked gently. This time he used the word "boss" with concern, not sarcasm. "To Laila's house." I said, pickin' up my coat.