The Thief
BELLADONNA: The Deadly Nightshade
11 – The Thief
Load groans and noises woke him up.
Gavin opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. The light was too bright for his eyes. He crossed his arms over his head, blocking the light that was shining brightly from the window.
Where is this?
What happened?
When he was busy recalling what had happened last night, slowly the answer emerged. He remembered that they came home wasted.
He remembered the giggling sound of the stripper girls. He also remembered his kiss with the Nightshade girl.
God, that felt good!
He could still feel the warmth of her lips. Her body that feels soft and desirable. Her champagne-soaked breasts and her sexy sighs.
Gavin groaned. Damn it, this early in the morning he's already high again.
"Oooh …. man. I got the worst hangover." Brayton's was heard, his best friend lying on the sofa in his room.
"What the hell?" Gavin sat on his bed, "what are you doing here?"
Brayton stretched out his arms, the sound of bones shifting as he relaxed his body "I can't go home like this. So, you don't mind if I crash here, right?"
That question he should have asked last night, not this morning. But never mind, Gavin reached for the glass on the nightstand.
"Wait, wait man …." Brayton trying to call out his pal, but it was too late. Gavin had already gulped down the contents of the glass and immediately spit it out again, "Shit, bro! What the hell?!"
Brayton grimaced. Last night, he looked for a glass to pour his vodka but couldn't find any. So, he used the glass of water that left on the nightstand, threw the water away and exchanged it with his vodka.
Gavin dashed into the bathroom to spit the alcohol out from his mouth.
"Sorry, bro!" Brayton calling at the bathroom door as it slammed behind Gavin. His eyes glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand which showed it was already 9.40 am.
"Motherfucker! I'm late!" he cried, jumping off the couch, grabbing his jacket in a hurry.
"Call you later, bro!" he added, hurrying out of Gavin's room, slamming the door shut.
Gavin flinched at the loud noise. Instantly, all his senses felt more sensitive from the worst hangover of his life. Staggering, he moved towards the nearest sofa. Throwing himself on the couch where Brayton slept last night. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned as the world spinning around him.
Last night was the best and the worst night for him. After a fiery argument with his mother, who is still forcing him to find a wife, Brayton manages to persuade him to release his stress by visiting a club.
A striptease club.
Nice.
Gavin subconsciously smiled remembering his meeting with the mysterious girl who managed to kiss him and made him forget the world. He saw the stars shining bright from the kiss and suddenly he has this urge to make her his wife.
Wife!
Gavin jumped from his seat, instantly forgot that his head still hurt.
That's it! He grinned widely as he turned his head to look for where his pants that he remembered were thrown in another part of this room.
The pants lay under his bed. Gavin walked over and picked up a pair of pants that reeked of alcohol and God only knows what he spilled there.
That pants should be thrown away ASAP.
His hands reached into his pocket and found nothing. Gavin scowled and turned to the other pouch. Nothing.
The thing he was looking for was nowhere to be found.
Still confused, Gavin picked up his clothes that were scattered around his room and checked every bag. There is no use.
There's no his damn wallet.
Gavin reached his cellphone on the table, the battery is almost dead. He checked and decided to text Brayton.
Gavin: Yo. You know where my wallet is?
After waiting for about five full minutes, and a full force searching around his room, Brayton's answer appeared on his screen.
Brayton: Nope. Why?
Gavin cursed Brayton's below average brain capacity, he quickly typed an answer.
Gavin: I think I've lost it. I can't find it anywhere. Any thoughts?
Brayton: No idea. Are you sure you brought it last night?
Gavin: Positive. I carry it everywhere. I put it on my back pocket. Did you see it?
Brayton: You think I'm the man who checking out every man's butt? No way. I didn't see your damn wallet.
Gavin: Good to know that you're not gay.
Brayton: Ha.
Gavin turned off his phone in a huff. Where's the damn wallet? He was sure he brought it yesterday. He never forgot to bring his essentials, phone, keys and his leather wallet.
All the IDs, his cards, money and business card of the clubs they attended. Last night, he remembered he slipped one into his wallet. It was when they were watching a show then Brayton asked him to move into a room and hire some dancers for a private show.
After that, he doesn't remember ever taking out his wallet that night. Gavin reached for his phone again and texted Brayton one more time.
Gavin: Who paid the bill last night?
Brayton: Me. You're welcome.
Gavin: Did you saw me took out my wallet last night?
Brayton: You think I watched you last night? I got a handful of dancers in my lap, man. So, no. I didn't see you with your damn wallet. But I saw you kissed the living daylight out of the Deadly Nightshade and squeezed her juicy ass. Damn, that was hot! You think we can book her again this weekend?
Gavin alarmed. The last puzzle of his scattered memory has come together. He jumped from his seat as he read Brayton's text. He replied to him.
Gavin: I think I know where I can find my wallet. Give me the club's address.
Brayton: Where?
Gavin: What's the club's name?
Brayton: Do you want me to book the table for us again?
Gavin: JUST GIVE ME THE DAMN ADDRESS!
Brayton: Chill, man. I'll send you to address
Gavin: Thanks. Gotta go.
After receiving the address from his text, Gavin immediately showered and changed his clothes. Damn, he didn't realize that the girl had stolen his wallet.
Before he left his room, he checked his cellphone. There's a text from Brayton.
Brayton: Do you think left the wallet at the club?
Gavin: No, I think she stole it while she kissed the living daylight out of me. That BITCH!
*