AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I can’t ignore him,” I mutter to myself, pursing my lips. Determination ticks my jaw. “But I won’t let him dictate my life minute by minute.”
The anti-virus scan finds no problems, and I scowl as I stare at the screen. My thoughts race; is this email related to the phone call I received the other day? When I hear a soft knock on the door, I get up and walk over to open the barrier. Liam is on the other side, holding a bag of what appears to be Chinese food. He has an odd smile on his face.
“You didn’t order me any?” Alarm bells go off in my head, and I grab the bag to check the receipt. Sure, it's in my name, with all the things I like, but... I didn't order it. I close the door on Liam, scrunching up my nose in disgust, and roll my eyes when he whines.
My phone rings in my palm. Icy prickles race down my spine and sternum — I tentatively answer the phone and hold it to my ear.
“Hello?” I ask quietly, and Jack’s deep timbre chuckle ripples down my cheek and throat, raising the hairs at the nape of my neck.
“I’m surprised you picked up, Heather,” His voice is dark and sultry, and I hold my breath despite my burning lungs. My heart leaps into my throat. “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“How’d you know about that?” Fear infects my voice, and I drop heavily onto the edge of my bed. The cold enveloping my torso becomes bitter even as heat stirs in my abdomen, and I glance over at the bag of Chinese food on the dresser. “D- did you order me Chinese?”
“I know a lot of things about you,m'eudail,” He replies smoothly, a bite of threat in his tone, and I gulp. “This is your favorite, right? Maybe you might think I’m a creep, but we’re past that, aren’t we?”
“I do think you’re a creep.” I breathe hotly, my eyes glued to the paper bag. What the Hell is Jack doing, offering me a soy sauce-drenched olive branch? He chuckles lowly again, the sound striking my core, and I clench my knees together tightly.
Why does he have to have such a sexy laugh? Why is the danger alluring?
“Ah, you’re a smart woman, Heather. Tell me,” He pauses, and I hold my breath as my heart throbs in my throat. Expectation drenches me in a cold sweat, and my face grows hot. “Do you think of me as much as I think of you?”
I take a deep breath in, quickly hanging up the phone and tossing it to the far end of my bed. I can't move as an enormous weight settles on my shoulders.
Wheezing for fresh air, I rub my throat and sternum as my heart finds its proper place. My pussy throbs, and I grab my vibrator in a clammy palm, hurling it across the room as if what I was actually throwing was the growing desire I was feeling for Jack. The vibrator thuds against the wall, no doubt breaking, but I don't trust myself.Why is my body doing this?
Why is it exciting to be the mouse in this game of 'Catch Me if You Can?' I need to get away. I have to leave before Jack puts in any serious effort. I sit up straight, grab my phone, and navigate to the transit authority's website to purchase a one-way ticket to New York City.
“I’ll just say I caught a stomach bug over the weekend and take Monday off and decide what to do from there,” I mutter to myself. I don't dare blink, afraid of what lurks behind my eyelids, of the emerging, forbidden thoughts that rise up from my brain's deepest, dankest crevices.
CHAPTERTEN
Jack
“Tell me about the situation, Hustler,” I demand, looking over him. My skin is hot, and I undo the top buttons of my dress shirt. Rolling up my sleeves, I watch him pull out a composition notebook and flip through the pages.
“According to what I’ve got,” he starts, reaching to rub his bald head thoughtfully. “The stealing started about two months ago. Three weeks ago, one of the bottle girls came to me and said she’d seen Darren pocketing tips. This was after drawer counting, and he came up short, so we’ve been keeping an eye on him since.”
“The girl— you trust her not to have held off longer than that?” I ask, and he nods firmly.
“She’s worked here since we opened. This place got her through college. She’s a good girl. There is no way,” he answers, full of confidence. Well, that’s good enough for me, and I wave a hand at him to continue. “By the time she came to me, Darren was already several hundred in the hole. We’re currently at 3,409$. It’s pretty high. I have gone through the books thoroughly, and it looks like he was overcharging and taking the difference.”
“How long has he worked for you?” My curiosity grows, and I fix my gaze on Darren, who is zip-tied to the chair by his ankles and wrists behind his back.
“A little over a year. I did hear rumors from the staff that he was talking about saving up to go home to Arizona because his mother had a stroke,” Hustler says, and I roll my eyes. He scoffs and scowls when I look over. “It’s so stupid. He could’ve just asked, and I would’ve accommodated as best I could.”
“He’ll be going home alright,” I growl. “Unfortunately for his mother, though, he won’t be in a position to help her.”
“If you’re gonna kill him, you’ll have to do it somewhere else,” he replies solemnly. “It’ll be difficult to get his body out of here.”
“No,” I shake my head, and Hustler sighs, tilting his head back and closing his notebook with a slap. Standing up, I walk over to Darren to grab his chin, forcing his head up. His face is already starting to swell, blood dribbling down his busted eye and his nose. “Where’s the money you stole, huh?”
“Ugh.” Darren gurgles sloppily, his eyes fluttering as he tries to focus. I smirk as I slap his cheek and he yelps in pain. I grab a Wiffle ball bat leaning against a box, tossing his head away. I look at Hustler, chuckling, but he just shrugs wordlessly.
This is good, though. I don't want to kill the man; I just want to blow some steam. I plant my feet and raise my arms before slamming the bat into Darren's gut. As his agonized, choking groan sweeps through the room, goosebumps cover my bare arms. I brace myself for another swing at his twisted arm behind his back. I quickly shove my heel into his upper thigh to stop the chair from rattling and collapsing. He is sobbing and gurgling as blood fills his mouth.
“Where’s the money, Darren? I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to put it in your own bank account, and it’s too much to have on a prepaid card.” I demand, and he garbles something I can’t understand. Tangling my fingers in his short-cropped, styled hair, I punch him hard in the face. My knuckles sting, and his head flops back as he struggles to catch his breath. Wheezing through his broken nose, Darren sluggishly lifts his head to look in my general direction.
“I— I do— don’t have... it.” In my ears, Darren's voice is like nails on a chalkboard, and I wince. If he doesn't have it, it's because he gave it to his fucking mother. That's a problem I don't want to deal with. However, before I can open my mouth, the door opens and I twist as I watch my cousin saunter down the stairs.
