Reckless - S01 E43

Story 4 days ago

Reckless - S01 E43

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 43

Stacy didn’t stay even a millisecond in his hold. It was as though his arms carried sting and thorns.

She pushed herself off him, then held her head with two hands. “Leave me the fûck alone!!! Leave. Me. Alone!!! You have ears! Step away!!!”

If her initial sniffling was for tears, then the scream she just did made the tears disappear into her eyeballs.

They didn’t fall.

Dorian maintained the short distance between them, bringing his right hand to his face to wipe the little tear hanging under his eyes.

When Stacy’s hands fell from her hair, she nodded.

“Good. Now you and your friend can fight yourselves to death for all I care, but don’t Fuçking involve me in the crossfire. I refuse to be the prize.” She declared and got in uer car.

Now she feels better, and as she drove off, her head feels lighter. She handled the wheel better.

In a minute, she was out of that road, leaving Dorian alone.

He used his thumb and index to run his stinging eyes, sniffling softly.

He entered his car and rested his pounding head on the steering, remaining there.

—

[San Diego, La Jolla]

The night sky hung low in a bruised shade of grey and thin silver veins that bled across the dark, casting a cold, metallic sheen over the city.

Cove arrived at past 12—extra ten minutes, cos he was having fun making the black car run on the tar.

The car never stopped following him. In fact, now that he’s stopping his bike in front of the chocolate store, the car stopped beside the road.

Windows are tinted, so he’s not seeing the insiders, but one thing’s for sure—they’re the ones who came to set the garage ablaze.

DIAMONDS.

Geez, he has heard that name more than he should tonight, and now it’s scratching his ears.

He doesn’t like it.

The neon NOIR CHOCOLAT sign in front of the store glittered and flashed when he entered.

His nose caught the scent of diverse flavors of chocolate immediately.

Stacked in show glasses, in freezers, on glass shelves, and in packs.

There are varieties, and there are bowls of samples for taste beside each section.

There are professionals in each section too to direct the customers, and for a lost minute, they all stared, forgetting their duties.

It’s not every night you get to see a uniquely handsome male enter a chocolate store.

A professional secretly positioned her phone to take a picture, but from peripheral vision, Cove saw her.

“I wouldn’t,” he said, his eyes glued to the chocolates he’s checking out.

That lady lowered her phone slowly, then she respectfully came to him.

“Anything you want in particular, sir?”

Cove pulled out the chocolate paper, and the lady smiled.

“Honey Eclipse? It’s our best-selling product since January. This way, please.” She pointed.

Cove followed, and he was taken to Honey Eclipse section, packed with only that flavor of chocolate.

“And why is it hidden here and not in front of your store?” Cove faced her.

“That’s because all of these are sold out, but their buyers aren’t here to pick them up yet. I’m willing to sell them to you tonight. When our new supply arrives tomorrow, I’ll just replace them.” She explained.

“Delivery to Bel-Air?” He asked.

“We don’t do deliveries, sir. But for you, I’ll get a store car to deliver any number of packs you want. By the way, it’s 50k per one carton, and a carton contains—”

“20 bars, I know.” Cove cut her off icily, not liking her shrewdness.

She smiled again, and he honestly dislikes that too.

Why the excessiveness?

He settled for twelve packs, and the lady blinked twice.

A random guy dressed this casual is willing to spend 600k on chocolates? Is he a hidden heir or something?

Cove payed by transfer on his phone.

He doesn’t use card.

Never.

After getting the assurance that it’d be delivered tomorrow, he took one carton with him left the store.

As Satan would have it, the matte black car is still idling on the curb.

The engine is running, headlights dimmed, patiently waiting for him to move again.

He smiled faintly.

Perfect.

He flicked fire on a cigarette, and with the cigarette between his lips, he swung a leg over his bike. The engine snarled to life beneath him.

He didn’t look at them again—he didn’t have to. The moment he eased into the road, the car pulled out too.

The chase began.

Cove rode like the city belonged to him, fluidly cutting through narrow lanes where streetlights flickered.

He leaned into corners with reckless precision, and the car followed hard, tires screeching as it struggled to erase the gap between them.

For a beat, Cove let them think they were gaining gaps.

He slowed just enough on straight roads, then he vanished around a blind turn, only to reappear in their headlights like a taunt.

He swerved through traffic with inches between him and the car, slipping between buses and taxis, forcing the car to brake.

Their headlights flared in his mirror, and he laughed devilishly, the sound swallowed by wind.

At an intersection, he deliberately hesitated, letting them close the distance.

Their singer should see this. He should see how his fans are risking their lives for him.

He could almost feel their anticipation, then the light shifted, and he shot forward like a bullet, engine roaring, leading them deeper into the industrial end of the city where buildings thinned and neon signs buzzed in isolation.

Now there’s a fuel station ahead, but he didn’t slow.

He sped straight toward it, and at the last possible moment, he swerved sharply into the station forecourt.

His tires screamed.

The car barreled in after him.

Cove’s bike skimmed past the pumps. He rose slightly from his seat, one hand steady on the throttle.

The cigar between his lips burned bright at the tip.

He didn’t look back as he took it out of his lips and flicked it away.

He accelerated out the far exit, engine howling as he tore back to the main road.

Behind him, the fuel station exploded with the car chasing him.

The sound was a violent rupture that swallowed the street whole.

Heat blossomed.

Glass shattered.

Metal howled.

Fire devoured the gas station in a towering pillar of flame.

The black car disappeared inside the inferno, swallowed by collapsing light and twisting debris.

Cove didn’t slow as he rode away. The city sirens are beginning to wail somewhere far behind him.

But he didn’t completely leave the city though. He rolled his bike into a uncompleted industrial building.

He climbed the rooftop.

From there, he watched the gracefully burning fire.

Now it’s very sure the three fools who set the garage on fire were the ones in the car, and that’s good riddance.

He stood on the edge, the fire shadow reaching his face despite his farness to the station now.

He retrieved his phone from his pocket, not bothering to go online and check the barking DIAMONDS.

Cute, cute dogs.

He’s sure they’d have gotten worse by now cos they definitely won’t stop till he apologizes on his knees.

Bad luck to them in that aspect.

He has never been on his knees for anything or anyone, not even when he was imprisoned.

He started this war, and he’s enjoying the ruins—ruins of Stacy.

Cos what do you mean she had her first kiss with Dorian after she repeatedly crawled to the garage?

This is her punishment.

By now, she’d surely be h@tëd madly by her best friend Zendaya.

Also, he’s liking the bonuses that came with this war.

Example; the car he burned with the fuel station.

Fire is exciting, but the thing is…

It’s more exciting when he sets it himself—just like right now.

He clicked an app on his phone, bringing it closer to his mouth.

“Feed me with her activity from two hours ago,” he demanded darkly.

“She left the cemetery after the fat friend slapped her,” an automated voice responded from the app. “She met Dorian on the road. He rushed a back hug, but she broke it off and yelled at him. Now she’s at home.”

Cove lowered the phone and pocketed it sleekly, the darkness in his sight heightening.

He unwrapped a chocolate piece from the carton and placed it on his tongue, taking a bite.

Watching the burning fuel station for ten straight minutes made him widen his arms, enjoying the ruin.

How pleasuring.

How relaxing.

From that rooftop, he saw a news about an AI robotics company, and he smirked, so h@tëfully malign—it affected his irises.

—

[Bel-Air, Zendaya’s Mansion]

Zendaya threw her car door shut angrily as she got down from her car.

She looks insane.

After the slap she received from Tania, she left the cemetery and went to the campus to cool off.

No one was in their CS Lecture Hall, so she had all time to cool off alone, but that didn’t help, obviously.

Her head is still pounding with headache, body shaking with anger, stomach rustling with ache and the need to use the toilet again.

She was seething with rage as she entered the house, flinging her shoes apart to gawd knows where.

She ran up to her room without turning the mansion lights on.

She rushed into the bathroom to take a dump, feeling sicker.

By the time she came out of the bathroom, she looks paler. Lips, eyes, the entire face.

But despite that, she took the drug container and shook four out to her palm. She swallowed them.

If this thing is really gonna work, then she needs it to work quick.

She began pacing the dark room.

In an hour, the pills will start working, and she’d start purging again, but she doesn’t care.

She’s ready for anything so far she’d get slim and snatched.

The nerves of Tania to slap her back after she slapped that betrayer Stacy.

She kissed her crush first, so why is she still the devil here by slapping her? Tania is a bîtch, for real.

She turned to another side of the room, imagining herself in a wedding dress and Cove beside her in a red suit cos she likes the red suit he wore to the Mixer.

Red is definitely his colour.

She doesn’t mind his stoic, moody broody personality. In fact, she loves it. She doesn’t want him to change when they get married later cos that wickedness of him will make other ladies stay away from him

She wants him all to herself.

She took a deep breath before trudging to her parrot cage beside her vanity table, but shockingly, her parrot isn’t in the cage.

Come to think of it, if it was inside, it would have been talking and chirping immediately she entered this room. It’s her only real friend and not charlatans like Glitz Society.

Where’s it?

“America!” She called it’s name, and she was immediately welcomed with a splash of lights.

The mansion lights came on, and the room lights showered her.

Her eyes widened, cos by the door, stood a potbellied big man with round beard and fat-filled face.

The parrot is standing peacefully on his knuckles.

Mr. Brown, her dad.

“Dad? Dad!” She gasped.

“Zenny!” The man smiled, widening his arms as the parrot sang.

Zendaya rushed into her dad’s arms, and the man engulfed her in a hug.

“You didn’t say you were coming to see me! And you had to stage a horror appearance like that?”

“You love horrors you crybaby!” Mr. Brown laughed.

Zendaya broke the hug.

“Crybaby? That name belongs to Stacy! She’s the one who gets tearfully dramatic when her dad refuses to see her, not me. Last time you visited me was last year December, did I cry?”

“Seems….you guys aren’t cool currently… You and Stacy” Mr. Brown shadowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Can we not start our night gist with talks about that attention seeker?” Zendaya scoffed.

Mr. Brown returned America to it’s cage, then he went downstairs with his daughter.

Thirty minutes later, they’re both seated on the couch. TV is on, and her head is on his shoulder.

The living room is full of gift boxes Mr. Brown got her.

There’s hardly anywhere to stand on. He spoils her like this whenever he comes home, and there’s even still more inside the cars outside.

“Did you like…. bought out the whole stores or something?” Zendaya muttered, sweeping another look at the gift boxes from so many brands.

“You better tell your men to take them into my room later, I’m not carrying anything.” She said again.

“Of course I’ll do that, just relax… You’re so on the edge, what’s wrong?” Mr. Brown asked.

Zendaya lifted her head from his shoulder and lifted her legs from the floor to the couch too.

“Stacy kissed the guy I love, and I slapped her to express my anger, then Tania slapped me back,”

“Tania Delgado?” Mr. Brown frowned.

“Is there another Tania you know as my friend?” Zendaya scoffed. “That hot tempered bîtch. She kicked a guy to coma for me? So what? I didn’t ask her to do it!”

Mr. Brown stroked her fingers.

“Stacy’s father is a Media Mogul, Kehlani’s is a Senator, and the twins father is a Kingmaker, but you’re into oil and gas and I’m the least rich among them, so I get why they bully me all the time.” She muttered.

“Stop that,” Mr. Brown frowned. “I’m not the richest man in the world like Albert Montana, but in this country America, I was still ranked the tenth richest in January.”

“I know,” Zendaya groaned. “I’m just disappointed at the girls, that’s it. Yunno I met Stacy first…”

She stood at this point.

“Stacy and I are the only ones who stay in this Los Angeles. We met in elementary school. No one wanted to befriend me cos of my size, but she extended friendship which I gladly took. She protected me from bullies, but she did it for her own selfish reasons cos she’s an attention seeker anyways. She received praises for always standing by me.”

“Then we graduated elementary, and her dad sent her to Las Vegas for her highschool education. That’s where she met Kehlani at. They both finished highschool in Vegas and then went to Ontario in Canada for their uni preparatory school, and that’s where they met the Delgado twins.”

“After one year of the preparatory, Stacy succeeded in pulling Kehlani and the twins back with herself to Los Angeles for their uni education in RIDE. She introduced Kehlani and the twins to me, and we became Glitz, but I’ve always been sidelined. They have hundred of crushes especially Stacy! They’re hardly any guy in RIDE who doesn’t have a crush on her, even Dorian likes her! So why does it have to be the love of my life she’d kiss!”

She was throwing her arms around as she talked, and Mr. Brown eventually stood, their heights same.

“I feel your pain, Zenny. I was bullied for my size too, but I worked hard and became madly rich. All the idiots who were bullying me back then are now my employees! I had my revenge!” He laughed scornfully.

“I don’t care about your revenge! I want mine!” Zendaya snapped.

“Yunno…” Mr. Brown sighed, walking to the full cellar.

Zendaya followed her, and as the man searched for his favorite wine, she stood behind him.

“I’ve always harbored a thick hatred towards Albert Montana—Stacy’s dad.” The man said.

“That’s new. You both didn’t attend the same schools so he’s not among your bullies,” Zendaya blinked.

“He’s not, but he’s too rich and arrogant it’s annoying. If he gets humbled and ruined, then the world can rest. I want him humbled, so I’ve been trying to get him through his daughter. I sent one of my men to go get her, but she had a pepper spray, and this Cove guy you mentioned was there to take her, so it failed.”

Zendaya gasped.

“You’re the one who sent the man in black to her that rainy night?”

“Your father can be freaky too, sometimes. Albert recruited new guards from the security bureau, and unfortunately for him, I have men in the bureau.” Mr. Brown laughed.

He has found the wine he’s looking for, and now they’re facing each other again as he held the bottle.

“I’m going to capture her successfully this time, and with her, I’m going to threaten her dad to give up his media houses. Also, you’ll have your revenge. You’ll make her do anything you wish.” He smiled sinisterly.

Zendaya gulped.

—