Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 21 (Kylie)

It is six months since I have seen Vincent and I admit I still check his status updates.

Spying the news channels hoping I will get to see him in the background somewhere.

It doesn't get easier with time, it doesn't make you feel better. Everyday is a struggle, but I am slowly

healing. I have no choice but to get through it. I see the error of things, I understand that my feelings for

him is one sided and it must have been what made him so horrible to me.

I imagine if I was him, then I stop imagining.

Recently, when I am not getting over Vincent, or spending time with Diamond, I use my time getting to

know another guy, hoping I could eventually move on, even if my heart isn't in it.

My cheeks flush thinking about him, he is a sexy man and great kisser.

Two months ago I went to The Satan Sniper’s clubhouse to visit my friend, Zero and brother, Kevin

when I was basically left melting on the floor by a very hot and familiar biker, Storm.

He flirted with me relentlessly. And in those moments I admit I didn't think much about Vincent, and I

was glad for that time. We ended the evening exchanging numbers.

Since then I’ve been in a tidal wave of hot flushes and red cheek blushes.

But old wounds die hard, they never really heal. Vincent hurt me so much WITH his words, and

thoughtless vices that sometimes Storm's nice ways and charm overloads me.

It is hard once you become used of getting treated a certain way, that anything else is unwelcome. And

it takes me a few minutes at times to scream at myself, so I can get it together, because I didn't have a

relationship with Vincent.

I am just a fucked up nineteen year old in love with my stepbrother who doesn't care if I am hurt by his

words. Who just wanted me gone and I have given him that.

I am gone from his life.

With Storm I am in unknown territory. His kisses at moments become too much that I run.

When I mean run, I mean I keep him on the peg , hanging.

I’m no virgin, I lost that at sixteen to a Russians diplomats son. Good times.

Guess I’m just cautious.

Do I still love Vincent? Yes, I will always love Vincent.

But as I said, sometimes the ones you love need to stay in your heart , and far from your life.

I understand that more than anyone.

There are moments when I am with Storm that I feel so free, so alive. I hold on to the hope that he can

be a long lasting distraction for me while I learn to find a permanent cure to my sickness of loving

Vincent Stone.

Stretching my neck, I get up off my bed. My long tight black denims are still unbuttoned around my

waist, showing a sliver of my red silk panties. Whilst my zebra style laces hang loosely on the sides of

my black Jordan’s.

My phone chimes, and my head drops staring at my pocket in two minds to answer it.

The music downstairs is pumping with some R&B crap that I would soon be changing to good ole

country.

Reality wins over my wants as my phone chimes louder. One of the downsides to having stacks of cash

and related to the Stones, (even if it is through marriage) means if I don’t answer my phone and it is

one of them, one of my many brothers will be arriving at my front door.

Curse of having helicopters, planes, and Jets at your disposal.

I slip the device out, and my stomach does a little flip at the caller ID.

“Biker boy,” I say in answer, silently glad it isn’t one of my brothers, David especially.

“Open up sweet thang.”

His voice is innuendo and his words take a little longer to register and when they do, I’m surprised and

sound so, when I blurt,

“What.”

“Since when are you deaf Kylie, I said open up.”

I throw the phone on the bed, not even putting it off.

“Dakota Larken I’m going to kick your ass,” I scream, my fingers fasten my denims, zipping up.

In a rush I bend down tying my laces into bows and covering it with the tongue of my Jordan’s.

My hair falls like a curtain blocking my face.

Since Reno’s death I never really got a chance to chop it off until recently. Eventually, when I had the

time which was a few days ago, after finals, I decided to screw it and grow the mass out.

After much-needed time at the salon, my hair is manageable even when I wake up. The joys of a black

card and a great hairdresser.

“What did I do now?” Diamond says, standing in a new distressed jeans and a deep blue bra which I’m

certain is mine.

Holding a T-shirt in one hand and pair of nude pumps in the other.

“You called Kevin,” I accuse.

She rolls her eyes, at my insinuating tone.

“You paranoid, you always paranoid, Kevin has this place rigged, I told you last year that he only

bought us this house so he could plant cameras everywhere, why don’t you listen sometimes is beyond

me, genius here, hello.”

I rolls my eyes , we both know I would never admit it even though I know she’s right.

I’ve been suspecting the cameras for a year now, but they’re well hidden, wherever they are.

Diamond struts toward me just as I finish tie my laces. She plants her ass on the bed.

Slipping the gray cashmere shirt on she smiles a white teeth flashing Diamond smile.

“Lemme take a wild guess, The Satan Snipers are here.”

I smack her head playfully and dodge her when she goes for my butt, laughing.