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“Where are you going?” King yelled.
“To find Claudia!” the women replied in unison.
The queen had spoken.
We had eight months before all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eight
Claudia
Heading down the mountain, I turned on my radio to hear Joe Nichols sing, ‘Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off.’
“You have no idea, Joe.”
Concentrating on the road, I wasn’t stupid.
I may have felt the beginning of regret, but with all the alcohol I drank, there was an excellent possibility I was still somewhat drunk. Now, I was a firm believer in no drinking and driving, but it was either drive home at the ass crack of dawn or explain to my brother why I was sneaking out of a brother’s room. Loved my brother Eugene, but that was one conversation I refused to have.
So, driving home semi-drunk was my only option.
The second I pulled into my driveway, I quickly thanked God and promised to never drive in that state again before heading inside my small house.
Dropping my bag by the door, I rubbed my hands down my face and groaned. All I wanted to do was throw on some pajamas, crawl into bed while eating a tub of double chocolate mint fudge ice cream while I binge-watched Lucifer on Netflix. Because let’s face it... there is nothing sexier than Tom Ellis walking around bare chested. I’m talking 100% drool worthy chest, because after the last twenty-four hours, all I really wanted to do was laugh and look at some amazing eye-candy.
No. Not the eye-candy I left handcuffed naked to his bed.
In my defense, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
Maybe I should send Bailey a text and have her check on him?
Cancel that.
That would be like opening the floodgates for the Spanish Inquisition. Not a conversation I felt like having.
Nope. He was a smart boy.
If he could fuck me stupid, he could get himself out of that mess.
I had my own troubles to figure out.
Like how I was going to get my job back at the hospital.
Moaning, I trudged towards the kitchen, flinging my fridge open.
“Why did you lose your temper, Claudia?” I muttered to myself, then answered myself, “Because the hospital administrator is an asshat piece of shit who only cares about the numbers, not the people.”
If that wasn’t bad enough, when that fucker told me he was cutting my NICU budget, I may have lost my shit and threatened to castrate the imbecile, then shove his cock so far up his ass he could give himself a blowjob!
That’s when the fucker fired me.
Apparently, threatening bodily harm is grounds for dismissal.
So, excuse me while I scoop some ice cream into my bowl and wallow in my unfortunate reality of small tits and a bastard for a boss.
I do have them.
Tits that is.
