20 The start of events

Date = 10 April
Place = San Francisco (Inferno)

POV - Aria

“I miss you so much,” Mel swoons on the phone talking to non-other than her loverboy … and I’m jealous. Without even thinking about my actions, I hand a guy a beer, take his money, and stash it into the cash register; my mind dropping further and further into a pit of sorrow the more I listen to the blonde on the phone. I also want that … real love! But no, I had to go and lose my heart to a bloody robot that constantly forget about my existence. My eyes search for the object of my desire at the other end of the bar but he’s no longer there. See! That’s exactly what I mean. Damn idiot!

The stupid unfeeling heartless thing has been ignoring me the last couple of days - he hasn’t even come home, staying here at the club. And it hurts. Badly. I mean … I’m the one with a reason to be enraged! Even though he explained that he never shagged anyone in his office before me, that he won’t break his promise to not cheat on me, and that Amanda is a rabid breed of human female that is obsessed with him just because he warmed his penis in her a few times long ago. And never in the office … or his home.

Still, just the thought of him shagging another woman stings badly … and I so desperately need him right now. This whole Brian thing is working on my psyche … and I’m not okay. Neither is Mel. She looks like a ghost and I know the anticipation is killing her, but luckily we’ll learn the result of the DNA test soon enough. And at least most of the gang is on their way back … thank goodness for that.

“So which one of you ladies is going to massage my balls and which one is gonna sit on my face?” A brute squeezes in next to Mel and puts his arm around her middle. Mel bites her lip, her palm hovering over the phone; anxiously looking at me. Then she puts the phone against her ear again.

“Damion, calm down, it’s just a drunk asshole,” she says and for a moment the jerk’s eyes flicker weirdly. Does he know Damion? Nope, he wouldn’t dare treat Mel like that if he did – would he?

“Yes, Aria is here with me. I’ll call you later,“ she puts the phone in her pocket and rolls her eyes at me. This time we’re like peanut butter and jelly – totally in sync, and just for a millisecond, I feel a little sorry for the vulgar jerk.

He truly doesn’t know who he’s messing with. During my brief time here I’ve learned that you never ever want to get onto the wrong side of a Blackburn … or a Grimm for that matter. And Mel is hormonal and sort of both; as she’s carrying a little fetus of the latter inside her – making her even more dangerous than Jackson. So let’s face it … she’s not to be messed with right now.

“Let’s go to the bathroom and you girls can take turns sucking my dick,” he leans all the way over the bar, his face now inches from mine. The sliver of empathy I previously had for him vanishes swiftly and disgust washes over me. Who is this a-hole? And why does it seem that he’s purposefully trying to piss us off? He’s not even drunk.

“Oh, and if I’m satisfied by your performance I might just let you experience the pleasure of Graham Scott’s cock inside you.” A girl waiting for her drink pulls up her lips and she gives him a disgusted look. Yeah, girlfriend, I also sometimes wonder how these creeps manage to get into the VIP section. I mean, who the fuck is Graham Scott?

“Fuck off Graham!” Mel utters, “Ain’t you suppose to be racing in Italy right now?” So Mel does seem to know him, “or did you not get invited?” He looks at her as if he’s God’s gift to women and I swallow some dry spit.

“I’ve been suspended … thanks to your fucking lunatic brother attacking me for no reason,” he says vehemently and I can just guess which brother he’s referring to.

“You sucker-punched him in the face!” No, he didn’t. Is this guy mentally ill or just plain stupid? Or does he plainly have a death wish?

“Still he didn’t need to break my ribs and jaw … “ Graham pouts and Mel snickers in his face.

“Dude, knowing Jackson, you can be thankful that’s all he did,” she says, “He just came back and is sleeping upstairs … want me to call him?”

“Why? To kill me? No wait … that’s your boyfriend’s thing is it not? We all know how many lives he’s already taken, don’t we?” he scorns and I wonder what he’s blabbering about. Who did Damion kill? He makes it sound as if the biker is some sort of mass murderer. Nope, not Damion …

“I’m actually counting on your murdering boyfriend finding out that I fucked his bitch way better than him,” he grabs his junk through his pants and shakes it suggestively, “and there’s plenty to go around.” He winks at me while uttering that last part.

“Can I have one Angry Orchard, please?” a girl asks and I turn around to fetch a bottle from the refrigerator, thankful for the distraction.

“So little ho … let me go give you the most mind-blowing orgasm in your boring little life,” he grabs Mel’s arm.

I grind my teeth and fasten my grip on the cider bottle. The littlest Blackburn moves her sight to the pathetic guy’s groin. I know that look. All the Blackburns have it. Fuck.

“AAAAHHHHHGGGGG!!!!” Graham whomever, suddenly screams, his body twisting unnaturally like an untalented street dancer, his face contorted into a painful scowl, tears welling in his eyes.

“You better get out of here before one of my brothers shows up,” Mel whispers in his ear, turning her hand, which has a tight grip on his balls, clockwise. The man whimpers out a painful moan, tears now rolling down his face and a small smile creeps onto the side of my mouth. Mel shoves him away, letting go of the vice grip she had on his manhood. He steps back, body bent over, breathing heavily while rubbing his tender bruised testicles.

“Bitch,” he straightens himself up, his hateful eyes on the petite blonde that just cranked his ego in front of the whole bar. Everyone is smirking teasingly at him, not all of them understanding what just happened, but it can clearly be seen he just got his butt kicked by a girl. I wonder what hurts more … his ego or his balls.

“I’ll teach you some manners ‘cause your loser boyfriend is too much of a wimp to do it,” he grabs Mel, his hand pulled back, ready to slap her face.

I’m not sure how it happened … but the sound of breaking glass shoots through the air, harmonizing with a pained shout; then alcohol mixed with blood pours down the asshole’s astonished face – one that’s now completely wiped from its previous smock expression. As if in slow motion he falls to the ground - man down. I lean over the counter and look at the body strewn awkwardly on the floor. Ship … I hope he’s not dead or something. Mel purses her mouth and cocks her head … apparently impressed.

“Way to go, girlfriend!” Then she holds up her hand for a high five and I unconsciously comply.

“What the fuck is going on here?” my robot has returned. And at the worst moment possible. Why does shit like this always seem to happen to me? It’s not as if I go out looking for trouble.

“What happened to Graham?” Enrique’s multicolored eyes are fixed on me and he looks anything but friendly. Seems like they all no the dude. And why does he automatically assume I’m the one to blame? I suck my lips in and look up to the sky … attempting to appear as innocent as possible while dropping the broken piece of the Angry Orchard bottle onto the counter.

“Eh, he had a little accident,” Mel smiles at me. “Clearly he needs to learn some manners.” How can she be this calm? I’m shaking like a freaking leaf.

The whole VIP area formed a circle around Graham who is now sitting on the floor, holding his hand against the wound on his temple. The awkward silence is eerie, reminding me of the tense scenes in horror movies. This would be the ideal time for some suspenseful background music - something like du-dun-du-dun-du-dun-du-dun – as if a predatorial fish is sneaking toward me. I swallow the burning sensation that’s pushing up my throat back down cause the angry robot killing me with his eyes is considerably deadlier than any giant shark.

“Let’s take him to your office,” a now-familiar voice creeps through the crowd and Enrique gives a massive sigh. Great … I think sarcastically - only he was missing from this whole bad situation. Where the hell did Brian come from all of a sudden? I haven’t seen him here the whole night.

“He had a little too much to drink,” Brian says while helping the injured man to get up. And that’s a lie for sure. If this Graham dude is drunk, then I’m a chicken … the kind with feathers, not the cowardly type. But why lie? Is anyone thinking like me … this can’t be a coincidence, right? Him and Brian. Is this another plan of Brian to blackmail me with?

“Aria, go get Ilkay. We’ll take Graham to my office,” Enrique says while grabbing Graham’s arm to support him. He leads the guy towards his office, Brian on the other side. Mel pulls a face at me before she follows them like a scolded puppy. I wipe my hands anxiously against my apron and slowly descend down the stairs looking for the big brother. I weave through the crowd, enduring a few vulgar unasked-for touches before finding him in the stock room.

This man is either in the hospital or here … sleeping only a few rare hours in between. I know he’s a genius, but he’s still human, isn’t he? And he mostly looks so sad, his smiles few and far apart. Mel told me once that he’s still getting over some girl. Must have been one hell of a chick to make him this miserable … poor thing.

“Eh, Ilkay, we need your expertise in Enrique’s office please,” I ask as sweetly as possible. He looks up from where he was removing wine bottles from a crate and there’s a slight twinkle in his gray eyes.

“What did my sister do this time?” I’m shocked … why do they all just assume it’s something we did?

“Eh … you see this jerk harassed us … and … he knows Damion … and then … you see he said … “

“Let’s just go,” he interrupts me, taking my arm with a smile. This time we breeze through the dreaded mob … it’s almost as though they’re clearing a path for us. And in no time at all, we enter the office. Graham is seated on the sofa next to Brian, pressing a towel to his wound. Enrique stands in front of the window and Mel is close to the door … this is where I also plant myself, clutching onto her tightly. It’s the safest spot in case we need to flee fast.

And based on the expression on the robotic man’s (that I unwittingly fell in love with) face, we just might need a good escape plan. Not that we did anything wrong … in fact, I’m feeling a little frustrated about being treated as if we’re the bad guys here. That jerk just got what was coming to him. I look at the man being treated by Ilkay and catch Brian’s eyes on me. Why does HE look so pissed? It’s not as if he got smacked on the head. Not that it’s not something I’m dying to do. I pull a sour face.

“Don’t look so worried, babe, I won’t lay a complaint about you,” Graham grins at me.

“And we won’t lay one against you … this time … but you better stay the fuck away from us,” Mel sounds irritated. She unexpectedly pulls me toward the door.

“We’re leaving,” she says over her shoulder and we quickly enter the staff room down the hall.

“I need to pee,” she tells me and I wait on one of the wooden benches for her to finish her business.

“Let’s go … I’m tired.” She pulls me up as she walks past me. Go? I’m officially still working so I need to go ask permission to leave. I open my mouth to tell her when she holds her finger to my lips, her eyes wide. Then I also hear the voices. I recognize Brian’s.

“I told you not to mess with the redhead.” He sounds enraged.

“Well, how was I supposed to know the bloody bitch is going to hit me other the head,” another man scolds. “I told you that Enrique is not a fighter and that it’s going to be difficult to rouse him up. He’s not his brother.” It must be Graham. Mel gasps and we eyeball each other. I bite my lip nervously. There is a long silent pause before Brian speaks again … as if he was thinking deeply.

“But they do look identical.”

“Oh, no, dude, I’m not going near that psycho again.” Mel rolls her eyes at me with a sly smirk on her face. What the hell is Brian planning now?