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I have no doubt that someone heard me, but at that moment I don’t care. I want the whole world to know how angry I feel.
The anger inside me burns thermonuclear, and I have no idea what to do with it. I turn and look at the room, wound tight and with no way to vent it. I want to smash up the room. I want to throw my laptop, break the windows, beat the chairs on the floor until they shatter, and put my fist through the TV. I want to yell loud enough that everyone in the Chess Room can hear me, so they all know how furious I am. And how stupid I feel.
Mack Hart has just been soundly fucked by a girl, and he hasn’t even taken his pants off.
I want Sidnie back here so I can vent my fury on her. She doesn’t deserve to get off this lightly. I want to punish her for making me feel like this.
Ripping open the door so hard it bangs on the wall, I stalk down the corridor and out to the lobby.
Gail stands up as I approach her, and I can see by the look on her face that someone has told her about the man yelling furiously in room number ten.
“Dr. Hart,” she says, cool as a cucumber, to her credit. “Can I help you?”
“Where is she?” I demand.
She doesn’t ask who I mean. “She left.”
I head for the elevator. I’ll chase her through the whole of the CBD if I have to.
I hammer on the button, but I’m still waiting for the carriage when a voice from behind me calls, “Mack,” and I turn to see Huxley enter the lobby. Someone’s obviously informed him about the disturbance.
“Go away,” I snap, hammering again on the button.
“Stop it.” He pulls my arm. I wrench it as the carriage doors open and go to walk around him, but he steps in my way. “Mack. I’m not letting you go after her, not in this mood.”
“Fuck off.”
“Mack, I’m doing you a favor. Whatever’s happened, it’s not going to end well if you leave like this.”
I stop, because I know he’s right. I don’t have to like it though. I stand there with my hands on my hips, breathing fast, wishing I could punch him in the face.
“Just try it,” he says wryly, obviously reading it in my expression. “Come on.”
“I don’t want to go back to the party.”
“No, I’m not planning on letting you scare off all my members. You’re going back to your room.”
“I want a drink.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
“What happened to the customer’s always right? I want a fucking drink.” I end on a yell.
He exchanges a look with Gail. “Can you please send a bottle of Lagavulin up to Dr. Hart’s room?” He puts a hand on my back then and propels me along the corridor.
I shake it off, but continue walking. He walks beside me, not saying anything.
When we get to my suite, I let myself in, and he comes in with me. I go over to the bed, sit, flop back, and cover my eyes with my hands.
Huxley doesn’t say anything. I hear him moving about the room, drawing the curtains, then he comes back and stands at the foot of the bed. “I haven’t seen you this drunk in a while,” he says.
“It was a good party. Up until about ten minutes ago.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
There’s a knock at the door, and he goes over and answers it.
“Is he okay?” It’s Victoria. I give a silent groan. I don’t need an audience.
