“You good?” he asks, barely looking at me.
I nod my head, still trying to calm myself down.
I can breathe.
I'm not in the water.
He saved me.
“Thank you,” I tell him, just above a whisper.
But I'm not sure if he even heard me because he's already jumping back onto his boat.
He starts the engine, turns it around, and takes off, leaving me here in a pile of wet mess.
CHAPTER 6
Jacob
I lean back into the disgusting chair, placing one ankle on top of the opposite knee, making damn sure not to touch the armrests with my hands. For some reason, this chair is always filthy. I can only conclude that it's done purposefully to further degrade the person sitting in it. We are filth, after all, the scum of society.
How many times have I been told that over the past several years? And not even just from people like the guy in front of me, but from men who had actually endedother people's lives. To men who had no problem slicing someone open and watching them bleed out, I was the scum.
My gaze never leaves the man sitting across from me. I've already seen the shelves packed full of folders and papers. I've already seen the family photo on the wall with his wife's face covered with a picture of some exotic destination. I've already seen the certificates and bullshit with his name Maxwell Myerson them all over the wall.
The asshole takes his fucking time on purpose, stirring his coffee and then taking a long sip of it. Then, after placing the mug down, he leans forward, clasping his hands together above my file in what is probably supposed to be an intimidating pose.
“You know the drill. Answer the questions truthfully, and then we can both get on with our fucking days.” He doesn't bother waiting for a reply. I wasn't going to give one anyway. Instead, he picks up a sheet of paper and starts. “Have you been in close contact with any woman?”
“No.” My answer comes out immediately, even though my first thought is the boat incident and how I had my hands all over a beautiful woman while helping her out of the water. No way in hell am I telling him about that,though. It was a one-time thing and I doubt she'll be talking about it with other people. At least, I hope she won't.
“Have you been alone with a woman?”
“No.” Isn't that pretty much the same as the first question?
“Have you been in contact with Jennifer Lapman?”
“Fuck no.”
“A simple 'no' will do.”
“No,” I grit out.
“Have you applied for work anywhere?”
“I have work already.” The truth is, it's barely enough to keep me fed most weeks.
“Going fishing every day is hardly work.”
“No one else will hire me.”
“Well you should have fuckin' thought about that before, shouldn't you?” he barks out.
I clench my jaw shut so hard that it hurts. I'm surprised I haven't ground my molars down completely by this point. It's the same type of shit he says every time I come here. I'm better off just keeping my mouth shut.
We continue on with the stupid fucking questions until he's gotten all the information he needs, and my head is pounding from the base of my skull with a tension headache.
“So you still need to come in monthly until–”
