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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Full Of It
By Vanessa Riverton



Then I could not recognise my 'problem' as anything other than boredom, but now I know it is the growing emptiness; one that even now as a 25 year old adult, I am still finding ways to expand within the deep, dark recesses of my thoughts deep within being.

And I know everyone knows, well they certainly did a few years ago, and if not they had to have an inkling. And I'll give dues... Ashley has suspected me for some time. She was the first.

Now she knows for sure... she knows what's wrong with me. But she doesn't know why.

"Devon Montgomery."

Ashley says my name with contempt and awe.

I wish I were exaggerating but really, that's the effect saying my name has... especially if you've ever met me.

Even as Ashley says the familiar words that make up my name, I smile to myself. I'm proud of my name... well, the effect it has, not the actual name, which I will explain in due time.

It's a name which brings fear into the very hearts of each and every person I mean; acquaintances, business partners and employees at Montgomery Images Incorporated included.

In my youth, after a few drinks, my mother revealed the reason behind my name – not that I cared so I have no idea why it was she felt the need to divulge such information in me after all I just assumed it was a name they picked to be 'savvy' - using a less than common name for all their trend-following friends to pick up on and carry on that fad too, all the while allowing my parents to take credit for starting the stupid craze in the first place. They, like m, had a penchant to be attention whores sometimes...

But I've digressed.

It turns out my parents named me after the place of my conception... or what they deem my conception from what my mother could remember. Apparently in a haze of pure sexual frenzy on a business trip back from Pennsylvania, my parents pulled over on the side of the road in Devon-Berwyn, PA.

Almost thinking of the fact I was named after such a perfectly common thing such as that was enough to make me vomit. It puts me in with the likes of Brooklyn Beckham in more contemporary terms.

Thank God, I've perfected my gag reflex – don't ask why or how.

As I look up I can see that Ashley is staring over at me and I look into her coffee coloured eyes once more. I'm not sure how much time has passed in my musings, and to be perfectly honest I don't really give a flying fuck.

"Montgomery... either say something or I throw your ass in a cell for the night."

"Patience is a virtue, Detective." She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes before speaking out through gritted teeth.

"I thought you were going to tell me about the first time you killed."

"Hmm? I am. All in due time. You see... Ash... I know you don't just want to throw me in prison; you also don't want to hear something as cliché as I killed her because I loved her so much and couldn't bear to see her in the arms of another... No. I know you want to know why I did everything – why I really did. And to understand you must know absolutely everything about me. Her. Us."

For once, Ashley doesn't look completely uninterested in the words spewing from my mouth, no in fact, she looks utterly entranced by me. I grin – I tend to do this when I know I'm right.

As much as I badmouth the Detective, she is in fact a reasonably smart girl... not as smart as me but I wouldn't call her an idiot.

A touch barbaric however?

Yes; because she gives into her emotions far too easily and reverts to almost brute physical actions in order to get her results.

Ashley Prince has a degree in criminology that she gained from NYU and she is quite the prolific profiler... but why she's wasting away in this precinct, I'll never know, but I bet it has something to do with 'giving back to the community'.

God, what a dreary life she must lead.

You see, I know for Detective Ashley Prince, even though she acts bored stiff by everything I say, she's taking in every word, every facial expression and she is composing a profile of me. She wants to get into my head.

And I'm going to let her.

Whether I let her out however, well... that is a whole other issue.

"Ready, Detective?" I cock an eyebrow and wait for her response. She smirks and cracks her fingers as she leans back into her chair once more.

"And waiting, Devon."

"Well... Victoria and I... we remained friends throughout the remainder of our year at middle school. Though, I did try to distance myself... I'm sure she noticed but she never confronted me about anything... it was the summer before we started high school... it was Victoria's birthday and I couldn't find it in me not to turn up..."



I was stood in front of a modest house. I say modest, if there were anyone else's home I'd call it cramped and a waste of brick and mortar. But this is Victoria's house. It, like her, is modest yet enchanting. What you see is what you get.

My palms are sweating and I couldn't find it in me to raise my hand and knock. It was one simple action, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I dropped my head and looked down at the present I held in my hands.

I had to have my mother help me pick it out. For once, I had to get someone who actually meant something to me a gift, and I had no idea what to get. But after hours of interrogating me, my mother and father allowed me to dip into my substantial savings account to pay for Victoria's gifts.

I took in a deep breath and looked up to the door.

I hated feeling helpless when I needed my mother's help getting this gift and now I feel pathetic that I can't even bring myself to knock on a stupid wooden door.

I clenched my fist and resolutely brought it up to the door and knocked three times.

There was a silence and my entire body shook with anticipation. The door slowly creaked open to reveal.... Ass-hat Getty? He smirked as I frowned.

"Dev!" I said nothing and pushed passed him. Ass-hat. I made my way into the house and found myself soon assaulted by a bubbling, blonde ball of energy.

Victoria was holding onto me tightly as she embraced me and I completely stiffened up. I never really hugged anyone before.

I could see over the top of Victoria's shoulder that Joseph was looking at us with a frown... how could I resist?

I brought my arm slowly around Victoria, the other hand using all my grip and strength to keep the present in one piece, and I held onto Victoria.

I heard her sigh and she spoke softly into my shoulder.

"I didn't think you'd be coming." I frowned and gently pushed her off of me, my body registering with my brain instantly that I didn't like being separated from Victoria. I looked into her eyes and kept my gaze even.

"Why would you think that?" She giggled and brought one finger up to my face and used her index finger to brush away the frown on my face – I was warm at her touch.

"...'Cos." She shrugs but then sighs after seeing my facial expression hasn't changed at all. "You've been avoiding me at school. I don't really know why but I figured you'd come to me and tell me sooner or later, after all, we are best friends." Best friends?

Greeeeat... wait a minute, I didn't want to be loaded with sarcasm so I just smiled and nodded.

"Yes. Friends." I looked around her home and only now did it register with me that there were many sounds coming from inside the house – most probably the living room. I looked down at my hands and Victoria followed my line of sight. She grinned and I held the present up.

"For you... obviously." Her smile got bigger and I swear I almost cracked a grin too. Almost. She looked at me, her eyes clouded over with something I had yet to experience in my short lifetime. She leaned forward and planted a devastatingly lingering kiss on my cheek, but I couldn't help notice it was awfully close to the corner of my mouth.

I fought with every part of myself to just turn my head and connect our lips, but I thought better of it... especially since we had company and the last time I checked I am not Joseph Getty's performing monkey.

But why was he still standing there? I looked at him questioningly as Victoria slowly drew away from me. She had a light pink tinge running across one cheek, the bridge of her nose and it reached to her other cheek.

Why was she embarrassed?

Before I could say anything further, Joseph cleared his throat.

"Vicky, we should probably head in... everyone's waiting." He sent one look to me and it contained an incredible amount of smugness. I disapproved instantly.

Inside Victoria's home, I noticed this was unlike most other parties I had been to – even though I seldom went to any.

Her parents had arranged for a DJ in the house who played the current top 40 over and over... and over. It wouldn't be so bad if the top 40 were actually a mix of 40 decent songs... however, they never are.

There was a long table laid out with many foods and drinks that we could help ourselves to but the thing that stood out was that her parents and all adults were not in the main room that the party was occurring.

I had wandered off to the restroom earlier and seen most of the adults in a separate room, sitting around a table, having a drink and talking about old times. Her parents seemed okay – very laidback and trusting. I didn't have time to talk to them, they seemed to be content in the company of the few other adults.

But now, this means I'm stuck in a room with about fifty people from our middle school who without a doubt, loathe me. And I'm stuck here for another three hours.


I'm sipping on some sugar filled carbonated drink when Joseph saunters up beside me and grins widely, remnants of mustard around the corners of his mouth. Ew.

"Yo, Dev! Quite the show you put on for me earlier, eh?" He nudged me, I suppose he meant it playfully but I just stuck my hands into my trouser pockets and stared down at my black shoes. A few seconds passed in silence.

"I... spoke to Vicky. She told me I had no chance with her man." My head snapped to attention and I could see Getty smiling at me. He shrugged.

"Thought I'd give it a go... but nah, she wasn't into me." There was another silence and I looked over to Victoria – she was in the centre of her room with the entire Barbie squad surrounding her, it reminded me of how vultures circle a dying animal.

My eyes widened when I realised she was opening my present. I instantly had a thousand doubts running through my body – did we get the right present? Will she like it? Will she hate it?

Victoria looked up over her friends, a collective gasp was given and I was frozen. Her eyes locked with mine. I completely ignored Joseph's existence for now. It was just me and Victoria. Slowly she stood up, and I took note of just how short her skirt was – it barely rested at mid-thigh. I dragged my eyes away and found her just metres away from me, my eyes raked over her scandalously tight fitting top – Clearly, adolescence has treated her well.

The next thing I registered was her arms fitting tightly around my neck and pulling me in, she took in a deep breath as she held me and I felt her exhale on my skin – causing me to shiver for a moment. I had no idea how long we stood there, but it was only when I heard Joseph chuckled gently next to me that I became aware of the fact Victoria had yet to release me.

"Jeez, you two, get a room..." Joseph trailed off and Victoria let go of me, I sighed heavily, missing her closeness already. But she made up for it, by turning and hitting Joseph in the arm. Hard. I smirked to myself as I watched Joseph wince in pain.

"We're just friends you idiot!" Victoria turned to me and smiled warmly, "I love it, Devon. Thank you."

I looked down in her hands and saw she held the matching Cartier white gold necklace lined with a small carat point diamond panther in the middle, matching bracelet and a Cartier roadster watch. She grinned at me. I took the items and put them on her one by one, being careful not to linger too much when my skin tingled at the mere sensation of her own brushing against my fingertips.

I turned Victoria around – ignoring the glares from the Barbie brigade and just admired at how utterly perfect she looked.

"I-I've never had such an expensive gift before Devon..." She began to sound insecure and I didn't like it. I frowned and shook my head.

"I didn't get it to show off or flash some cash... I got it because I wanted to see you in it. I thought you would look... striking in it. And you do. You really, really do." I finished off my sentence with a half-smile – it never reached my eyes but it caused a great smile to erupt over Victoria's face.

"Remind me to thank you for this, Devvy." She began to walk excitedly back to her other group of friends and they began 'oohing' and 'aahing' like hyenas, even though a few managed to send a glare my way.

I heard a low whistle come from beside me.

"Wow, Dev," I hate when he calls me that, "Its times like that I think she likes you back, man, but then..." I turned to him and sneered, Joseph held his hands up defensively, "Hey, I'm not against that kind of thing! My older bro? He's a complete homo too. He's awesome... but you know, two girls together are way hotter... well, a hot one with me would be better but – "

"Are you just going to keep talking, Getty?" He looked at me and grinned sheepishly, he shook his head, but then took a deep breath, so did I – he really was going to talk again.

"It's just you know... I'm saying it's cool if you like her, Dev. I swore she liked you too but I was proven wrong, I mean what with Michael and all." I sighed, he really could never take a hint I didn't want him around me sometimes.

"Yeah, you said... wait, what?!" He looked at me and seemed confused. He seemed to laugh in disbelief before scratching the back of his neck.

"Wait... you don't know, do you?" My eyebrows furrowed – I was really getting sick of this. I hated being out of the loop. Getty shook his head and looked at me, almost pitifully, he pointed up to the crowd that was around Victoria.

"Michael Davenport." I took in the person standing closest to Victoria as this moment; Michael.

He went at our middle school last year but he was a year above us. He went to the high school our school was associated with.

He was quite tall, athletic and popular – he was on the school basketball team. He had dark blonde hair and brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin that girls seemed to go ga-ga over. He was from a reasonably respected family – diamond dealers and they were well known for their ethical stand on the diamonds they traded, everyone revered them and blah-blah-blah.

My own parents handled the PR five years previous if memory serves right.

But he was a poster-child. He was considered the perfect boy; good looking, good grades, supposedly good to get along with, he was pretty much every girl's ideal boy in our school.

And it was then I noticed the way he linked his hand with Victoria's. The way she sent a shy smile back to him, her face blushing slightly and she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I heard the taunting 'oooh' of her Barbie friends. Then I heard nothing.

Then all I heard was the sound of my blood pounding at a deafening rate in my ears.

My heart rate sky rocketed. For a split second, before the reality of my emotional state hit me.

I was angry. I was... jealous?

Yes. I was jealous.

But I don't get riled about anything... but here she was... Victoria Louwrens and her new boyfriend; both causing me to go into an uncontrollable state of envy.

"Devon? Are you okay?" I didn't take my eyes off of Victoria nor Michael. I simply stared at them and ignored Joseph's question. His voice actually held concern; I had no idea why... I wasn't nice to him.

I took in a deep breath and turned to Joseph, a small smile gracing my face.

"I'm fine, Joe." His eyebrows nearly shot up off his head and I tilted my head questioningly.

"Y-you've never called me Joe, Dev." I shrugged and felt this weird sensation rush through my body. It was like I was so angry I had surpassed rage and gone into this state of light-headedness. I felt I could do anything. I was near laughing. I was so angry I had to laugh. I felt like if I didn't laugh I was liable to lose my mind.

So this is what envy feels like.

"I'm going to go home, Joe." He opened his mouth ready to say something but I beat him to it, lowering my voice, I love attention but right now I do not want to bring attention to myself, "If I stay here, I might end up acting like an ass and doing or saying something I regret. And I like to live my life without regret." He nodded slowly.

I almost changed my mind about Joseph. He seemed like an okay guy really but then again it could have been the insane chemical imbalance rushing through my body that caused me to think he could possibly be a potential candidate for 'friend'.

Not saying another word I turned on my heel and began making my way to the entrance of the house. I felt in my pockets and found the stash of money I could always rely on was still held in the money clip in my pocket.

I closed the door as quietly as I could manage behind me and stood outside. I looked up and down the road and could see about half a mile down the road the distinctive yellow cab I was craving.

Thank God this was a one way street – I could guarantee it would be passing me.

I stood to the side of the pavement and held out my hand, signalling for it to come over and stop. It was about a hundred yards from me and slowing down when I heard the door behind me open and a familiar voice call out to me.

"Devvy?" Oh for fucks' sakes, Victoria, let me brood in peace. I looked up and saw the cab was a good fifty yards away now.

"Dev? Where are you going?"

The cab came to a halt in front of me; I opened the door and heard Victoria begin to walk down the steps as fast as she could. I closed the door behind me as swiftly as I could and told the driver to just drive.

He looked at me confused but I sent a glare his way and he set the car in motion just as Victoria reached the car door. I pressed down the lock and saw through the window that she stood back in shock. Her eyes full of hurt and looking at me confusedly.

I just glared at her.

She's not the only one who is hurt. I didn't turn back as the cab drove off. If I did I would have most probably have seen Victoria fighting tears as she watched my cab before resignedly entering her home again.

I didn't want to go home. For once, both of my parents were home and would question why I've been gone less than two hours to a birthday party of my supposed best friend.

So, I went to the only other place I could get lost in the city and be protected by the public eye.

Irony much?

So here I am in Riverside Park, in Manhattan, only a few blocks from my own home but still... I can just be here and be on my own.

It's quite a nice day and I need to be left alone with my thoughts and my own pathetic emotions.

I walked deep into the park, past my usual route and decided to walk into the newly developed 'Trump' area. It's been expanded recently, and it's rather incredible. It basically goes from north to south of Manhattan and it's rather quite lush; it's a nice contradiction to the rest of the city really.

I find a nice quiet area with some heavenly shades of green practically inviting me to go and unload all of my stress by lying in the grass and just thinking deeply, taking in all the great freedom this outdoor area offers me.

Suddenly, I'm horribly reminiscent of the first day at school. When Victoria came and bothered me at lunch time. I felt a horrible lurching coming from deep within my chest. It was so sudden and unexpected it caused me to sit upright. I clutched at my chest and took several deep breaths.

I sat there, my eyes closed, and my heart was thumping painfully and I tried to just forget everything. But I couldn't. How could I bring myself to forget her?

A soft mewling brought my out of my thoughts and I agitatedly searched around looking for the source of the sound.

I walked over to one of the pillars and found, lying down on the ground with heavy laboured breathing... a cat.

A tuxedo cat; it was black and white.

I am instantly reminded of Victoria's love for 'Mr Mistoffelees ' from Cats. Victoria saw it once on her tenth birthday and still raves on and on about it whenever anyone brings up the simple word 'cat'.

In fact, she loves cats. I know that. It's one of the other reasons I got her that gift with my mother's help.

The panther is the most elegant and beautiful of felines. I wanted to get her the most beautiful cat that existed and see her wearing it... knowing I got it for her. She was wearing something from me. Something that she would tell everyone I got her. People would know it was me.

Then Michael appears and I am forgotten – in my mind anyway. Oh, here comes that seething anger... damn. I thought I had shaken it off.

Oh well.

I look down at the cat and see it can't be that old, it retains this youthful look in its tired yellow eyes – even if the cat is exhausted.

I bend down and look at the cat... one of its hind legs are at the most odd angle. At the knee – I'm not 100 percent sure after all I'm no expert - the leg is sticking up back to the direction it's just come from.

Like I said, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure your leg isn't supposed to do a one eighty and look like that. The cat is in pain and is softly mewing again.

I reach my hand out only to feel a stinging pain seconds later.

What. The. Fuck?

I looked down to my right hand and saw there were three lines, in a light crimson colour courtesy of this cat's fucking claws.

I looked down at the beast and saw it had its fangs out and its claws at the ready too.

I've never been sure but animals have never seemed to like me. Except my grandfather's Rottweiler... but he was too lazy to get up in all the times I went to my grandfather's.

But, back to the matter at hand. A fucking cat just clawed me.


I looked with contempt down at the furry little fucker and saw he was still making clawing motions at me, his five sharp little blades out and ready to be used to the fullest of their power.

I grinned at the cat.

"Fucking nuisance cat."

I thought back to the panther necklace. To Victoria. To Michael and then from nowhere my anger returned. My hand was throbbing with pain as a result of the scratches. The stinging sensation I felt as a result of the fresh cuts and the contact of the cool breeze that wafted through the park at that time.

I looked down at the cat and sought a way to vent my anger.

Loosely, I lifted my foot and kicked the broken appendage loosely. The tip of my shoe barely brushed past the tip of the cat's foot before it let out a pained growl and began thrashing about madly. Three of its legs struggling to find the energy to lift itself up.

But now... I had this strange sensation rising deep within me.

It was a different kind of burning passion.

It was a different kind of want.

And it was definitely a different kind of need.

And I embraced it.

Using my quickest reflexes, I crouched to the ground and scooped up the cat, crushing it close to me, and instantly feeling the sharp, stinging pain of all of its claws being dug deep into any flesh it could.

I hissed but managed to surprise my whimper of pain. I jogged over a tree that had low branches and several bushes concealing its trunk – they were very common around here, it was purely for aesthetics in this part of Manhattan.

I dived into the bushes and released the screeching cat from my arms. It began rolling over the dusty floor and landed with a 'thud' against the tree trunk. I got up slowly and dusted myself down and began searching for my pockets.

My parents forced me to join some Scouts thing last year that lasted all of five minutes before I got up and walked out of the degrading farce. I kept my pen-knife however.

Always. It was always coming in handy.

Like now, for example.

I took out my Victorinox Swiss Army Knife and looked down at the helpless feline at my feet. My anger had still not subsided and this need took me over.

I decided in this instance that I hated cats. So very much.

Without thinking again I took out the wood saw feature and crouched down beside the cat. I held onto the red handle of my knife with such grip that my knuckles turned white and my hand shook with the overwhelming nerves flowing through me.

I only heard the sickening crack as the handle of my red blade came down with such a force that the cats head bashed into the grass and lolled about for a moment – the cat was in shock.

I took the initiative and kneeled beside the cat.

My blood was pumping and I had no sense of right or wrong, everything was a blur. I just needed to vent. I needed to hurt as much as I was hurting.

Without another thought, I used my left hand to press down on the cat's torso, it squealed but not loudly, it was still dazed from the bash on the head I gave it. Using my right hand, I took the miniature wood-saw in my hand and brought it down with a blazing fury into the cat's broken leg. The saw pierced straight through the cat and I could feel the dull thud as the blade connected into the grass just below the leg.

Blood began squirting and pouring out from the wound in the leg and the cat's predominantly white leg soon turned a dark crimson colour. The cat was shrieking out but soon stopped as I wiggled the blade about a bit more.

Yellow eyes seemed to widen and then closed lazily, before opening again – this cat looked high.

The tongue came out of the cat's mouth and it flopped to one side. The breathing was now heavy and laboured and the cat's body twitched involuntarily.

I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth and took the blade out from the cat. I watched as its claws dug helplessly into the grass and flailed into the air. I held out the sleeve of my jacket and wiped the wood saw gently against it, ridding the stainless steel attachment of the blood covering it. After that, I retracted the wood-saw attachment and took out the long blade.

The main attachment glinted in the late afternoon sun as I held it up. I looked down at the cat and saw the vulnerable and helpless state it was in. I crouched over it and it tried one last vain attempt at reaching out and clawing at my face. I moved back just in time.

My anger was amplified – that could have left a fucking mark.

I looked down at the cat and its eyes locked with my own.

Amber eyes looked into my own jade coloured eyes.

The cat was positively terrified and even though I knew felines didn't have the ability to talk coherently to humans, I knew what it was trying to say to me.

'Please, stop.'

"I hope it hurts."

In one swift movement, I move my left hand onto the cat's head and wrench it away from me, its face now looking upwards at the endless sky, remnants of the day's sun still evident.

I drag the sharp edge of the blade along the now exposed neck, applying just enough pressure to feel the knife split the skin hidden beneath the plush fur of the cat.

Seconds later, the white fur that covered the underside of the cat was coated in a deep shade of burgundy and the cat squirmed for a few seconds before letting out a pained wheeze and collapsing back onto the floor.

I sat back and let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding in.

The cat lay motionless beside me but the blood continued to seep out slowly from the cat's lifeless body. I looked down at the black and white cat and found my body was overwhelmed due to fatigue.

I sprawled out on the grass on my back, my body was completely spent.

My body was tingling with the sensations of danger, excitement and there was adrenaline like I had never known pumping through my body. I was trembling lightly and I raised a hand to my face, feeling it was flushed. As soon as my hand touched my cheek, I felt the heat and knew I must have been a shade of rouge I had never experienced before.

I sat up after a few moments and indulged in this euphoric feeling pulsing through me.

The cat was still lying there staring at me with its open, dull, lifeless eyes.

I felt no regret.

I picked up the body and shakily got to my knees then after a few more shaky moments, I stood up on my feet. Looking around, I saw there was a small body of water about seventy yards from where we were.

Before walking out, I looked around and saw that there was no-one around. I hurriedly walked over to the water and dumped the cat's body into the cool water.

I was about to turn on my heel and walk away when I noticed that my jacket had blatantly been smothered in blood as had my dress shirt. Sighing, I reluctantly pulled off the Armani garments, leaving myself in just my black wife-beater, pants and shoes.

I threw the jacket and shirt into the water and watched as they floated off to the side – they would undoubtedly go unnoticed by practically everyone who passed by this utterly remote part of the Riverside.

Stayed for a few moments, and let out a sigh of relief as I watched the cat slowly sink to the bottom of the pool of water.

I swivelled around on my feet and resolutely made my way through the park. Halfway to the exit that lead to the avenue where our penthouse home was, I stopped in my tracks and smirked. I turned my head back to the general direction I had just come from.

"I got away with it."

Saying it out loud brought me a sense of superiority I had never experienced before.

It seemed so surreal. I had just killed an innocent, defenceless animal... and I didn't care.

No-one would find the cat, and if they did no-one would ever know it was me. I could do this over and over again... and get away with it.


I grinned to myself as I made my way home through the bustling quarter that is known as Manhattan and I was a lot less angry than I was earlier.

I had found it; the little thing niggling at me and the thing that made me feel so empty all the time, even after I had met Vicky.

I was almost complete.

Now, I just needed Victoria – of that much I was sure.



"So... let me get this right." Ashley's voice breaks me out f my nostalgic thoughts.

"You killed an innocent, injured cat just because the girl you had a crush on, who didn't know you liked her in that way, got a boyfriend?" I nodded. What was so hard to understand about that?

"You really are pathetic, Devon." I open my mouth to retort but Ashley seems to take the initiative and she seems somewhat peeved. "I mean, fucking hell, you told me you were going to tell me about the first time you killed... talk about anti-climax... but then again, that's you to a tee... well, from what I remember." My jaw clenches and my nostrils flare.

I look up into the smirking features of Ashley Prince.

God, I hate her right now.

I don't know how I ever found her attractive at one point. And fuck her for bringing that up. I looked away from her and sighed heavily.

"You want to know about the first person?... I was seventeen. And drunk. She was a bitch. Still want to know?" Ashley leans forward and smirks at me.

"Depends... will the climax be as disappointing as always with you?" I smile sardonically at her.

"Michelle Duncan... She was my first in every way. Do I have your attention yet, Detective?" Ashley leans forward, her elbows are on the desk and she is resting her head in her hands. Despite her nonchalant behaviour I know she is positively gagging to hear the rest of my story.

"Lord knows you crave it, Devon."

Heh. Ashley certainly knows me well.

I found it unnerving that one person, one solitary soul, could make me feel emotions that worried me, that made me vulnerable – that made me question myself.

I didn't like that

Back to my work – Montgomery Images Incorporated is one of the nation's largest and most successful PR companies. Well, not just the nation, as well as practically conquering North America, we run a lot of business in South America and Asia.

My parents started the company five years before that fateful drive in Pennsylvania. It began in a modest building in Manhattan and it attracted all the right people at all the right times. Within a decade it was the most sought after company and then by the time I was old enough to realise social standing was – my parents were multi millionaires.

Part 5

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