The Bitter End

The Bitter End

Golden Crown Series

Hell has three gates.

Lust

Anger

Greed.

~Bhagavad Gita

Copyright of Rue Volley 2013

All rights reserved

Published by Hot Ink Press

Cover by Rue Volley for Vivid Book Designs

This
book is dedicated to my husband Von. I love you now and forever and thank you for being my biggest fan and true source of inspiration.

“Really?”

“Yeah
, Really,” Ryan said as he looked at the dashboard and shook his head. He turned the key and you could hear the engine whining, not unlike he had on a few occasions…whining that is, saying fucking everything and nothing, all at the same time. I swear he is about as useful to me as this fucking car is right now. I tapped my nails on the windowsill and looked out at the shitty weather. It was raining like Satan was on his way and the earth needed to be nice and soft for him to claw his way through the ground below us. I leaned in and blew my hot breath on the window and there it was, the stupid heart I had drawn earlier in the year when he had me out on a date, all romantic and shit. Yeah, romance. What a joke. I slowly traced my finger against the heart as my own heart fluttered a bit as the memory of his cock inside of me the night I drew this completely consumed my mind. It pisses me off that I still want him that way even after…

I turned and looked at him, pushing my hair behind my ear and waiting. I mean he has to have a fucking plan right? Probably not, I mean it is Ryan, the cheating fuck
all shithead.

“How about popping the hood and checking out the engine?” I asked him and he sighed and then stared down at his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Ryan? RYAN?” I said a bit louder and he looked at me. I stared into his face as lightning cracked and lit him up. I swear the past three weeks had aged him something terrible as I had made it my mission to be the biggest cunt this side of cuntville. He sat back and let his hands fall into his lap.

“I know nothing about that shit.”

“Oh sweet, any other way you want to fucking make my year then?” I asked him and nothing, no response. I mean what could he say really? Ryan had only done one thing in his life that warranted a spine and that was admitting to his dick wandering into a woman he met at a bar, or so he said. Three weeks ago. It was raining not unlike it is now. I had sat staring out our penthouse window, wondering why I had found myself in this fucking situation with a boy, yes a boy…not a man. A man would not be cheating on someone who loved him so completely. Who had stepped away from family against her Father’s will and placed a substantial inheritance in jeopardy. Why you might ask? Well, Ryan can fuck me. I mean fuck. Not make love or stroke my ego, I mean flip me over and shove it in without saying a fucking word and his aggression is something I cannot seem to be without. We torture each other, not only in the bedroom but in life and to me it keeps my senses heightened and my pussy wet. What other things are there really? Fucking Ryan, and his perfection. I hate him as much as I love him, I really do. But more importantly my Father hates him and that alone makes him mine to keep.

“How about you pretend
, or is that something you can’t seem to do either?” I said and with that he swung the car door open and slammed it behind him. I jumped slightly as it matched up to a loud crack of thunder overhead. I smiled as I watched him slip and fall, yelling out a nice big “FUCK” as he pulled himself back up and flipped the hood up. It was all in spite. He is right, he has no clue as to what an engine does or does not do. Ryan had spent his life with a tongue to a random clit in one form or another and knowing this I should not be shocked he strayed. But it is me, the one who took him as he was and not as the playboy he pretended to be making his way through the upper level of New York society girls. I guess I was just a target too but he had no idea I was as ruthless as he was or as brutal in the bedroom, so here we are…

He jumped back into the car completely drenched and I kept my laughter at a minimum. He was so frustrated and hating this I could feel it in the air all around us. He deserves it, and so much more. He was too fucking weak to leave and I was too much of a bitch to tell him to go. He then looked at me with water dripping down to his chin and I raised an eyebrow.

“When the lightning lit up the sky I saw a building that way.” He pointed forward. I leaned up and saw nothing but sheets of rain on the window.

“And?” I asked him and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Well, it looks like a hotel.”

“Well, go get help then.”

“I think it would be better if we go together, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here in the car alone.”

“Oh fuck you Ryan.”

“Seriously, Beth,” he said as he reached out and touched my hair and I slapped his hand away from me.

“You touch me when I say
so Ryan.”

“Okay,” h
e said as he lowered his hand and watched me closely. The thunder shook the car and the ground as I held onto the handle until I realized he was still watching me.

“I am more than capable of waiting here, besides, I do not want to get all wet.”

“I would love to…” he started to say and it trailed off as it should. He used to be dirty as hell 100% of the time and I loved that too. I loved that he whispered words like cock and wet pussy into my ear at the best restaurants in the city, or that he had fucked me in my Father’s study when we visited him and his Asian whore of a wife who was 25 years younger than him… I had “stepped away” at dinner. He had followed and he came in my ass that night. I grinned at the huge painting of my Father over the fireplace as he did. I fucking hate him more than Ryan and I have spent my life trying my best to make him miserable but he would never allow me the pleasure of seeing it. He doesn’t give a shit about me, and with me being a girl…yes a girl, my father would never have me run a damn thing for him. Yes, my Dad is a fucking sexist pig as is Ryan, as is every goddamn man I have ever been with really. I am attracted to asshats, it is my talent in life other than shopping and fucking. I excel at those too.

Ryan stepped up to my side and opened the door up, he stared down at me and I watched as the rain r
an down his face and dripped from his chin. He held his hand out to me and I shook my head.

“Listen you fucking cunt…
you are not any good to me dead,” he said as he leaned down and stared at me. It infuriated me and I slapped him across the face as he smiled at me and then I started to hit him again. He caught my hand and tried to kiss the inside of my palm. I watched him for a second and then jerked it back as he sighed and let his head drop down. I then kicked him back and he fell onto the ground as I reached over and pressed the button to pop the trunk. I stepped out and walked to it and stared in as I sighed. I reached over the body of my Father, with his mouth gaping open as well as his hazy eyes clouded in white. I grabbed the umbrella, slammed the trunk shut, popped the umbrella and watched as Ryan scrambled to his feet and stared at me.

“I fucking hate you,
” I said and he watched me walk by him. He glanced back at the trunk and then followed me quickly. What other choice does he have? What choice do I have but to go back and tell you a bit of a tale you may find hard to believe, but trust me…this is exactly how it happened….

We sat at the longest table in the New York Public library. I only like to come here because it is a beast of a building and we tend to people watch
, which is a nasty habit both Holland and I have. We have played this game since we were at Patterson, the best private school in New York and I never shook it, it is a drug once you get going.

“Beth
, look.”

I looked up to see him walking by us slowly and grinning as he often does.

“Fucking Ryan Endless,” she whispered and I smiled and covered my mouth with my book.

“Don’t call him that, it’s stupid.”

Holland looked at me and then back to him. She started to chew on the end of her pen and I saw her tongue flick the tip of it and I ‘eww’d’ as she quickly looked at me.

“What?” she said and I rolled my eyes.

“For Christ sake, just follow him and fuck him already,” I whispered to her.

“I should,” s
he said as she stood up and I grabbed her hand and jerked her back down next to me. She laughed and looked me over trying to figure out my sudden need to be prudish. I mean, we are not in any way. Fucking is actually a game to both of us that we have played since High School. College should be on the horizon for us now but we had lingered in our circles and did nothing but spend our families’ money since graduation three years ago. In fact I don’t know if I will go to college. I don’t really give two shits about a career, fortunately I have a Father who owns pretty much half of New York City and a few other large cities now and money will never be an issue. He was a high powered lawyer at one point, but now he OWNS all of the high powered lawyers and reaps the benefit of these soulless bitches winning cases for political deviants and rich socialites who tend to get in some shit. I do not question their morals, it is not my place to and I will be honest and tell you I would not trade my life for anything. You would have to be an idiot to do that.

“Endless,” s
he whispered to me and I laughed.

“I doubt it is true,
” I said and she eyed me and smiled like a naughty cat.

“Well, I heard that he can fuck for hours. I guess “endless” is a bit dramatic but anyway…hours would be interesting
, Beth.”

“Oh sure. I will give you some advice. Buy a lot of lube because yo
ur pussy would be dry like a desert. There is no man who can fuck you for that long and keep you all wet and stuff.” I then jumped as I heard the chair pull up across the table from us and there he was, the legendary endless fucking machine himself…Ryan Blackwood. He looked, amazing with his black hair and chiseled jaw. He also looks like tattoos would fit him fine and who knows, he may have some lurking under all that fashion he loves to sport. Ryan is always dressed nicely in brand new clothing. He is never in need of money I would assume. I mean, there at least 4 older women who fuck him here in New York and pay for his shit. The apartment he has, the cars…the clothing, hair. It is all paid for with his dick. He may look incredibly delicious but my assessment of him being a manwhore is dead on and everyone knows it.

“Ryan.”

Ryan grinned at her for a second and then he was back to staring me down.

“Holland,” he said as he looked down my neck and I felt the need to adjust my shirt as I had a bit of my cleavage sticking out. He sighed and pulled out his phone as it chirped in his pocket. He stared at the screen and typed something back quickly as Holland was all star-struck with him. I was not, nor had I ever been. I may sound like a cunt for saying this but Ryan was not what you would call
from the right people
. As in, his family was poor, or middle class…what the fuck ever. I mean what is the difference? If you have to ask how much something costs then that means you don’t have enough in the bank to really shop right? I know that sounds mean but I don’t know anyone who had ever snaked their way into the higher levels of the New York elite like this trashy guy had.