Loathe by the Billionaire

Kayla

Jason opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. I wished the ground could just open and swallow me whole.

I closed my eyes for a minute hoping this is a dream but when I open them, Liv is still adjusting her shirt and Jason is pulling his pants up.

"Kayla, look," Jason starts with a trembling voice. He reached out a hand, but I flinched back like he’s covered in acid. "It’s not... it wasn't supposed to be like this."

Olivia, on the other hand, doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. She smoothed her hair in the reflection of my fucking car, popping her lips. "Honestly, Kayla, don't be so dramatic," she says as if we’re discussing a spilled drink. "It’s been happening for months. You were bound to find out eventually."

"Months?" The word chokes me. I turn to Jason, my voice rising an octave. "My best friend, Jason? Of all the people in this city, you chose her?"

"Kayla, please, just calm down," Jason hisses, glancing nervously toward the house. He was more concerned with his reputation than actually trying to make restitution.

"Calm down?" I let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. "I gave you everything! You’ve been driving my car every other day because you 'needed to look the part.' I poured my savings into your half-baked business ideas. I’m literally going broke because I’ve been buying you designer suits so you could 'pitch' to investors and all this time, you were using that image to screw my best friend?"

"I was going to tell you," Jason pleads, stepping out from behind the car door. He tries to grab my shoulders. "I just didn't want to hurt you. I do love you, Kayla, but Olivia... she understands the pressure I'm under."

"She understands your pressure because she’s the one blowing you when I’m at work!" I scream. My lungs burn. "I worked double shifts so you could have 'startup capital,' Jason. I wore rags so you could wear Gucci!"

"Lower your voice!" Jason snaps, his "prince" persona is finally cracking. I can't believe I didn't see him for the useless piece of shit he was.

He gripped my arm too tight, leaning in close. "You’re making a scene. People are looking, Kayla. Stop being embarrassing."

I pulled away and spun around, my breath hitching.

Through the floor to ceiling glass of Olivia's penthouse, I could see people watching and even recording.

"Get the fuck off my sister, idiot." Chelsea. This couldn't be more embarrassing.

"Can you relax Chels," Jason sneered, "I'm trying to fix my relationship here, shut up."

"Relationship?" I laughed loud, "there is no relationship Jason. You're dead to me!"

My eyes land on Olivia who seemed far too relaxed, "When you're done wiping the cum off your face, get the fuck out of my car!"

Olivia practically gasped, "It's not my fault--"

"If you complete that statement, I'll make sure your billionaire daddy doesn't recognize your dumb ass face anymore!" Chelsea practically barked out.

Olivia shut her mouth, ceremoniously putting her clothes on. When she finally come out, she stared Jason down, "This isn't fun anymore. We're done!"

This was fun for her. Of course, the billionaire heiress thought people were toys to be played with.

As if I hadn't gone enough already, I watched my boyfriend get on his knees. "Liv please, don't do this to me," he cried, "I'm nothing with you."

Chelsea snickered, "How could someone be this pathetic?"

"Darling," Olivia said referring to me, "you cannot possible be mad about this mediocre dick. You can do better. Now leave before I call the police." With that she cat walked back into the house.

The audacity.

I climbed into the driver's seat. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely grip the wheel. Chelsea slipped into the passenger seat.

Before I could even shift into gear, she reached into the back seat, grabbed the duffel bag of Jason's gym clothes and the extra designer jacket I’d literally just bought him, and hurled them out the window onto the pavement.

My phone vibrated in my hand. A text from Jason: [How am I supposed to get home?]

The nerve of this bastard. I turned my phone off immediately.

I drove for a couple minutes till the house was completely out of sight. "Kayla," Chelsea called out. I felt her eyes on me for a while now.

"I know, Chelsea! I know! You told me so!" I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. I didn't care that I was blowing through a yellow light. I didn't care about the traffic. "You told me he was a leech, you told me he was too perfect, and I didn't listen!"

"Kayla, look at me," she said, reaching out to steady the wheel as I swerved around a slow-moving sedan. "I’m not cruel enough to rub it in right now. Not tonight."

"Three years!" I wailed, the tears finally blurring my vision. "Three years of my life dedicated to that fool. I worked double shifts, Chelsea. I supported his 'business ideas' with my rent money. I bought him those suits so he could 'pitch' to people, and all he was doing was pitching himself into my best friend's bed! What am I going to tell Mom and Dad? They thought he was a prince!"

I was driving like a maniac, my foot heavy on the gas, violating every traffic light in sight.

Chelsea leaned in closer. "Kayla... is it true?" she whispered over the roar of the wind. "Was the dick really... mediocre?"

I stopped breathing for a second. I closed my eyes tight for a moment. "Yes," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "Yes, it was!"

Chelsea laughed even louder than me. People in the cars around us were staring, but I didn't care. I’d had a hell of a day.

I pressed my foot down on the gas, wanting to get as far away from that house as possible. But the car didn’t speed up. It shook.

The steering wheel suddenly got stiff and stopped turning. I pumped the pedal again, but there was no power. The engine made a dry, hacking sound then, the dashboard lights flickered and went black.

The car showed until it drifted to a dead stop. No, not now!

"Kayla?" Chelsea asked, her laughter completely gone. "Why are we stopping?"

I looked down at the gas gauge. The needle wasn't just on empty; it was buried. Jason had used my car all day to ferry Olivia around, and the prick hadn't put a single drop of fuel back in it.

I leaned my head against the steering wheel. "He drained the tank, Chelsea," I whispered. "We're stuck here!"