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“That’s what I said.” He doesn’t even bother casting a glance around the table. “But since you weren’t at the drinks meeting, and it was Maximo and I who met with Kincaid, we’re in agreement on the fact he’s been poking about. We’re interested in your thoughts.”
“And?” I ask. “There’s a fucking and.”
“And,” he says carefully, “the vote on stopping all dealings with Kincaid needs to be on the table, open, and to pass, unanimous. Issues?”
“Bring it on.”
* * *
It’s unanimous. Of course it’s fucking unanimous. Like there’s any other way around that. But I remain at my seat as Hendrick does his, seemingly going back to whatever fucking work he’s doing.
Another fuck you from the great asshole Agnossio.
When we’re alone, I rise, saunter over, and park myself on the table, right in his space because a shit like him finds that annoying.
“So, when you were getting down with your little fucking side piece thief the other night…” I plant my hand right there, blocking his view of his iPad. “When you kissed her, could you taste my cum? Because it was in MG’s mouth. And her cunt if you decided to eat her out. Got her pretty asshole, too. But that mouth…good, isn’t it? Or does she not go down on you?”
Hendrick raises his head, reaches past me to shut the iPad for the second time, and looks at me. It’s a look of pity and derision.
“I haven’t seen her in a while, Jac, so I have no idea if she, as you so fucking sweetly put it, tasted of your cum.”
He hasn’t seen MG? Neither have I. Figured she was running there, but if she didn’t, then I’m doubling down on the whole where the fuck is she shit.
Hendrick grins. “Not used to it, are you? Maybe it’s your behavior that’s causing this issue. You never normally have a problem keeping women about, no matter how appallingly you treat them.”
“And what’s your fucking excuse,” I snarl.
He sits for a while then he says, “You know, Jac. I saw her leave your place, disheveled, and it was obvious what had happened. I wasn’t happy.”
For some reason the gloat doesn’t come on.
“I thought I’d take a fucking page from your playbook. Destroy you both. But…” He shrugs. “I’m tired.”
“Of being a fuckhead?”
“Of you, of me, of this feud. I’m just so fucking tired.”
I rise. “I don’t know what mind games you’re playing, Hendrick, but they won’t work. I’ll get the fucking necklace, get MG, and destroy you.”
“Stop.” He gets up as well. “Aren’t you tired of this, Jac? All this hate. Lili—”
“Don’t you dare say her name.” I grab him so fast, I barely stop myself putting my fist through his skull.
Hendrick’s big. I know he’s got black belts. I’m a dirty, nasty fighter. But with him, I’m matched. In a big fight, I couldn’t tell you who’d win. I’d love to say me, but I honestly don’t fucking know.
Hendrick could fight me. We could do damage to the other.
But he doesn’t. He only meets my glare head on, silently daring me to take the next step in my thoughts.
Disgust hits me, and instead, I let him go.
“I’m fucking done with you.” I stalk to the door, but he moves fast and pushes me against it. As I said, we’re matched. He’s strong. This time, I don’t fight him off. “Let me the fuck go, Hendrick.”
“I’ll say her name if I want,” he says quietly. “Don’t think because I don’t often that I don’t think of her. That I don’t care.”
Then he releases me and steps back. “Here.”
He hands me a black journal.
