When Dick pulled into the driveway he immediately spotted Jessica and Ryan mid-argument. Their voices carried, sharp and irritated, but the second they noticed the car, both went silent. The shock on their faces was obvious, as if they'd just witnessed something impossible.
Jessica's perfectly glossed lips parted in disbelief, her eyes glued to the McLaren as Dick stepped out. Ryan stood there, his usual cocky demeanor crumbling as his gaze darted between the car and Dick.
"Is that… yours?" Jessica finally managed, her voice wavering, envy and confusion cutting through her usual arrogance. She took a step forward, her eyes widening as she took in the car's sleek lines and immaculate finish. She didn't even try to hide the lustful gleam in her gaze.
Ryan, on the other hand, looked like someone had kicked his ego in the teeth. The guy was used to being the top dog, flaunting his muscles and his looks. But now? Now he just looked small, standing there in his gym clothes, trying and failing to regain some semblance of control.
"Where the hell did you get this, Dick?" Ryan demanded, his voice strained. He took a step closer, attempting to assert himself, but the crack in his confidence was obvious.
Dick didn't bother with them, didn't give either of them the satisfaction of an explanation. He glanced at Jessica, her eyes still glued to the McLaren, her lips unconsciously biting down as if she could barely contain herself.
"None of your business," he said flatly, brushing past them both like they were nothing more than obstacles in his way.
Ryan, however, wasn't so easily dismissed. He moved to block Dick's path, his face flushed with anger. "Nah, man, you don't just get a car like this. What, you think you can just show up and—"
Before he could finish, Dick stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he leaned into Ryan's space. "Step aside," he said, his voice low, leaving no room for argument.
For a second, Ryan looked like he might step back, but his ego didn't let him. After all, it wasn't just the car. Ryan needed to reassert his control, especially after the other day. Dick had humiliated him in a way that he hadn't yet recovered from, and Jessica's indifference toward him since then had only made things worse.
"Don't fucking walk away from me, Graves," Ryan growled, puffing his chest out, his shoulders squaring as if that would make any difference.
Dick's eyes barely flickered as he tilted his head, bored. "What are you gonna do, Ryan? You think standing there, playing tough, is gonna scare me?"
Ryan's jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides. His whole body screamed with the tension of someone teetering on the edge, desperate to reclaim some semblance of power. But Dick didn't budge. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them, his presence alone enough to make Ryan twitch.
"Still can't let it go, huh? You really want round two?" Dick's voice was casual, almost amused. "Didn't the other day teach you anything?"
Ryan gritted his teeth, eyes burning with the frustration of a man who knew he was losing ground. "I went easy on you because you're Jessica's brother," he spat, fists clenched, "but I've had enough."
Dick chuckled, his voice low and mocking. "Really? I should thank Jessica, then. Maybe I'll give her a proper reward later."
Ryan's face darkened, the veins in his neck bulging as he stepped forward, his chest nearly brushing against Dick's. "You think you're funny, don't you?"
Dick shrugged, not bothering to hide the smirk curling his lips. "Yeah, I do."
Ryan's hand shot out, grabbing Dick's collar, pulling him close, his breath hot with anger. "You're gonna regret talking to me like that."
For a moment, they stood locked in place. Dick's eyes narrowed, then, with a swift movement, Dick slapped Ryan's face.
"Who gave you the balls to touch me?"
Ryan's head jerked to the side, shock widening his eyes. His grip on Dick's collar loosened, and for a second, he just stood there, stunned, like he couldn't believe what had just happened. The red mark bloomed across his cheek, and Dick could see the faint twitch of his lip, the telltale sign that Ryan's fragile ego was about to crack.
Jessica gasped, her hand covering her mouth, eyes flicking between the two of them like she was caught in the middle of a horror show. But she didn't intervene. She couldn't even move.
Ryan's shock quickly turned to rage. His hand clenched into a fist, the veins on his neck bulging, his body tense like a coiled spring. "You're dead," he spat, pulling back his fist. But before he could throw the punch, Dick grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back against the wall.
"Threatening me in my own house," Dick's voice cut was cold and low. His grip tightened around Ryan's throat, pushing him harder against the wall. "Not smart, Ryan. Not smart at all."
Ryan's eyes bulged, his hands instinctively clawing at Dick's arm, but the strength behind Dick's hold was unshakable. His breath came in ragged gasps, the fight draining from him with each second as panic set in.
He then said with a mocking smile, "Even if I kill you right now, Jessica and Clara will help me bury you. Just to protect the family name."
Ryan's eyes widened, fear cutting through the last of his bravado. His breath came out in shallow gasps as he clawed at Dick's hand, but it was futile. The fight drained from him with each passing second.
Dick loosened his grip slightly, just enough to let Ryan suck in a desperate breath. "You see, that's the difference between us," Dick continued, his voice low and menacing. "I don't need to pretend to be anything I'm not. You? You're just a sad, pathetic fuck pretending to be on top."
Ryan gasped, wheezing as he struggled to speak. "Fuck… you…"
Dick chuckled, releasing Ryan abruptly, letting him collapse to the ground, coughing and clutching his throat. He took a step back, towering over the wheezing figure, watching the pathetic display with cold amusement. Ryan gasped for air, his hands trembling as they rubbed at the bruised skin on his neck.
Without hesitation, Dick slammed his foot into Ryan's gut, his heel digging in deep. The sound of air leaving Ryan's lungs was followed by a sharp yelp of pain. His body folded up on itself, hands desperately clutching his stomach as he gasped, his breath coming out in choked bursts.
The silence stretched for a moment before a wet, dark stain spread across Ryan's crotch. He flinched, realization hitting him, his wide, panicked eyes flicking down to the growing puddle beneath him. A wave of helplessness washed over his face as he lay there, soaked in his own piss, quivering in humiliation.
"Eww," Jessica's voice cut through the moment, sharp with disgust. She backed away, her nose scrunched up as her eyes scanned Ryan's pathetic state. The shock that had momentarily frozen her melted away, replaced by a look of utter disdain. "God, Ryan, are you serious?"
Ryan whimpered, trying to sit up but failing miserably, the shame pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't shake. His lips quivered as he glanced up at Dick, eyes filled with desperation, but he couldn't muster a single word.
"Get up," Dick growled, his voice low, no longer amused, just cold and commanding. "Get out of here before I put you down for good."
Ryan didn't move at first, his body twitching involuntarily, the piss-soaked grass beneath him staining his clothes. A weak, pitiful groan escaped him as he finally scrambled to his feet, his legs wobbling, barely able to support his weight. He glanced at Jessica, who was already looking away, disgust plain on her face.
"Fuck... off..." Ryan croaked, but the words held no power. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet as he tried to make his way toward the gate, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.
When Ryan was finally gone, Dick turned to Jessica. "You should pick better company," he said, voice calm but laced with mockery. "Unless you enjoy hanging around piss-soaked losers."
Jessica scoffed, crossing her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Do I look like I enjoy your company?" she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual bite. She glanced at the spot where Ryan had just been, disgust curling her lip.
Dick didn't reply right away. He simply started walking toward her, each step slow. She stood her ground at first, her chin lifted in defiance, but as he got closer, the confidence drained from her eyes. She took a step back, then another, until the back of her thighs bumped against the McLaren. Her hands pressed against the hood for balance.
Her lips parted, protest and hesitation on her face, but no words came out.
He stood over her, his body casting a shadow. His hand lifted, cupping her cheek with a firm grip. His thumb brushed her skin, not gently, but just enough to make her freeze, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes locked onto his, wide and uncertain.
She sat on the hood, looking up at him with wide eyes, defiance slowly giving way to something she couldn't quite place. The heat in his gaze wasn't like anything she'd ever seen from him. Gone was the pathetic brother she had spent years mocking. This was someone else—someone she wasn't sure she could handle.
Dick leaned in, his hand finding her cheek, firm but not rough. The warmth of his palm sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. She wanted to push him away, to snap at him, but she couldn't move. Couldn't look away from his eyes.
"Now," he said, his voice calm, steady, but with an edge that brooked no argument, "you're going to thank me."
Jessica blinked, confusion crossing her face. "What?"
Dick's smirk deepened, his thumb brushing her cheek ever so slightly. "You're going to say, 'Thank you for helping me see what a loser my boyfriend is.'"
She froze, mouth half-open, a laugh caught somewhere in her throat. The idea of obeying him, of saying anything close to what he was asking, was absurd. But his eyes… they held her there, locked her in place. Something inside her rebelled, but she couldn't break free from that steady, unwavering gaze.
Her pulse quickened. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the space between them vanishing as her back pressed harder against the car. Her breath hitched, and for a split second, the look in her eyes shifted—less fight, more fear. She wanted to argue, wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she couldn't.
Jessica bit her lip, eyes darting away from his face, the words hanging heavy between them. Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "Th-thank you for... helping me see what a loser R-my boyfriend is."
Smiling, Dick softly patted Jessica's cheek, his touch firm enough. "Good girl," he murmured, the words low, almost condescending. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving her frozen against the hood of the McLaren.
She didn't move. Couldn't. Her breath came out shallow, the world around her shrinking to the sensation of his fingers lingering on her skin. Dick's footsteps echoed as he disappeared inside, but she didn't even look after him. The shame of what had just happened—her giving in so easily, the way his words had cut through her defenses—burned beneath her skin.
Jessica shifted, finally pushing herself off the car, her legs shaky. Her eyes darted around the driveway, making sure no one else had witnessed it. Ryan's piss-soaked image still clung to the edges of her mind, but she brushed it away with a disgusted shudder.