AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Jamie's not coming tonight, Mark."
Mark blinks, his eyes glossy. "He's not?" He twists in his seat. "Did I… did I get the time wrong?"
I lean forward, plastering my palms on the table. "Jamie never wants to see you again. He doesn't have the balls to say it to your face, so I'll say it for him. Your friendship with him is over."
Mark's face cracks like a vase hit with a hammer. His eyes well up, tears glistening in the dimness. Shit. Tears spill down his cheeks, and before he can utter a single word, he throws a twenty on the table.
“You can tell that asshole I don’t need his fucking money, anyway. I never wanted it,” he shouts as he turns and rushes out of the bar.
Shit. What the fuck was that? What money?
Jamie
I bite my lip so hard it starts to bleed.
"Shit." The car behind me blares its horn and I wave at them in the rear mirror. "Calm the fuck down."
My bed is beckoning me after this long ass night. I'm not even sure exactly what's bothering me, but there's a thorn in my spine that won't stop poking me. The night went great. Better than great, even. We made more money than we have in a while—to the point where double checking the books made sense.
Especially since she left early. I didn't have anyone else to check it.
Surely, it was a mistake that I found. The numbers didn't add up, but that happens from time to time. Lord knows I can barely add for the life of me—which is why I hired Lara to begin with.
Even someone as good at math as Lara can fuck up from time to time. Right?
Maybe I'll go over her numbers for the week tomorrow, to be sure. Yeah. That's what I'll do. Clearing my throat, I relax my shoulders. I'm sure it's fine.
My phone vibrates in my lap, and I flip it over, expecting to see Lara's name pop up.
That's weird.
I answer the phone on the first buzz. "Hey, Mark, what's up?"
"You fucking fuck!" His scream blends into a string of curses I can't understand.
"Whoa, Mark, what's wrong?"
"You, Jamie!" Mark screams. He's slurring, but his response still doesn't add up. Despite the shit storm that is Mark's past year, I don't blame him for relying on the booze to get by, but it has never once made him sound like this.
"Okay, buddy, you're going to need to give me more info. Take a breath. What’s going on?"
"Take a breath?" He cackles. "Jamie, you can go to fucking hell. I never asked for your money. You offered it. And I'm such an idiot. I know we're not as close as we used to be, but for fuck's sake. You're going to hold this over my head like this?"
I pull up to another light, my hands tensing on the steering wheel, my heart in my throat. "Mark, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"She told me you don't want to be friends anymore. Like we're fucking five. We had plans to meet tonight, and instead you send some chick to pass on your message because you're too much of a coward to tell me the truth. If you want to stop giving me money, that's all you had to say."
"Whoa, hold on. What plans? And what girl are you talking about?"
"The ugly fuckling. Lara dick licker. Don’t act like you don’t know. You know what, Jamie. Message sent. Message received. This—we're fucking done."
"Wait—Mark!"
He hangs up, and my hands tremble as I open my phone log to call him back. But then a text from him pops up. It's a photo of a booth at Wesley's, one of the bars we occasionally meet at. Sitting in the back corner, staring at her hands, is none other than Lara.
What the fuck?
The car behind me honks again, but this time, instead of flooring it, I spin a U-turn, my tires screeching as I slam my foot on the gas, headed straight for Lara's.
