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After clenching and unclenching my fist, I face Knox, who’s made himself at home and is sitting on the sofa.
His legs are spread wide and he has his arm thrown nonchalantly over the back of the sofa. That fucking grin is still plastered on his face that’s begging to be punched with a professional boxer’s strength.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Me?” He feigns innocence, searching behind him for someone else. “I haven’t done anything except for introducing myself ever so casually.”
“Stay out of this, Knox.”
“Afraid your mystery girl will choose me? Oh, wait. She’s not a mystery anymore. Her name is Nicole and she’s a bombshell.”
“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, this has nothing to do with you, so go wank the nearest pole.”
“Thanks for the image, but I’m going to have to decline. I’m happily engaged and don’t need your disgusting methods.”
“Congratulations for being a twat. Now, can you screw off, please? Some of us have to work.”
“Didn’t seem like it when you were watching her like Radiohead’s “Creep.””
“You’re one to talk about the creepy factor, considering your Viagra-on-steroids sexcapades during working hours.”
Knox taps a finger on his lips, not bothering to hide his sly smile that resembles a fox in heat. Not that I’ve seen one, but I imagine this is the expression they would have. “Oh, that. Good times.”
“At least one of us thinks so.”
“Your opinion on the location of my sexual encounters ranks with the importance of the Queen of England’s involvement in national affairs, Danny. Superficial, reserved, and holds no value. Now, back to the subject at hand. I assume you’re still holding a grudge? It’s been, what?” His hazel eyes twinkle with amusement as he starts counting with his fingers. “Eleven fucking years, no? Normal people would’ve moved on by now.”
“I’m not normal people.”
“You sure as fuck are not. Normal people don’t hire their nemesis as an assistant.”
“That’s because they lack imagination. This is the perfect way to torment her.”
His expression is deadly serious as he asks, “And then what?”
“What do you mean, then what?”
“You’re doing this for a result, no?”
“No. The endgame isn’t necessary, the process is.”
He chuckles. “Crazy cunt.”
“I should be calling you that for your recent involvement with the mafia.”
“We’re cool.” He smooths his tie. “Besides, the tables have turned now, and you’re the main entertainment.”
“I’m no one’s bloody entertainment.”
“We’ll leave that to the court of the group chat. I’m sure everyone will agree that you brought this shitshow upon yourself.”
“It’s not a shitshow. It’s called cold-blooded revenge.”
“You’re still holding that much of a grudge, huh?”
I stare at the closed shutters and I can perfectly imagine her on the other side. Only, she’s not the desperate Nicole who stooped low to work as an assistant.
All I see is the girl who made my and my best friend’s lives in school hell.
