Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
He throws his hands skyward. “I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.”
I shake my head and push my way into my office. Talk, resolve this shit with Mike and Coral, then get the fuck out of here. I find Sarah at my desk and John pacing circles, guarding Mike, who’s looking a bit too comfortable on my couch. It riles me, and riling me now isn’t wise for anyone. “So I’m here,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Let’s talk.” I feel John’s eyes burning through his wraparounds, focused on me, and Sarah’s obviously tense, drumming her long red nails on my desk. I set my keys and phone down, eyeing her. “You okay?” I mouth, and she nods, but there’s no denying she’s stressed.
“You going to ask your skivvies to fuck off?” Mike asks, and I turn to find him throwing a gesturing hand John’s way, not looking at him. I, however, do, and the big guy’s chest is rolling dangerously, his phone turning in his hand repeatedly. Call me intuitive, but this doesn’t feel like it’s going to be the calm, grown-up discussion that John alluded to. I don’t feel the air clearing. I feel it clouding more.
“I’ve got it,” I say more calmly than I’m feeling. Like John, I already want to rip Mike a new arsehole. But this can’t get messy. Sarah appears beside me, her hand resting on my arm. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Mike sneers at John as he backs out of the room with Sarah. Everything about my oldest friend’s persona tells me he doesn’t want to leave. And he won’t. He’ll wait outside because that’s John through and through. Protective. Loyal. My rock. I give him a nod, telling him I’m good. “I won’t be long,” I assure them both. I have a feeling this is a waste of my fucking time, and I have far more important things to be dealing with. John nods, closes the door, silent and brooding, and I redirect my attention to the prick making himself at home, leaning back on my couch.
He points to the cabinet. “Not going to offer me a drink?”
My jaw stiffens, and I cast my eyes across to the alcohol still holding court. “Want a drink?” I ask, strolling over. It’s barely midday. He doesn’t want a drink, but he’ll have one.
“Vodka,” he says, and I close my eyes, reaching for the bottle. People say you can’t smell vodka. It’s bullshit. I unscrew the cap and pour, shutting off my sense of smell. “One cube of ice,” he adds.
Opening the mini-fridge, I pull out one cube, dropping it into the glass. The disturbance of the liquid makes the smell waft up. “Here,” I say, turning and walking across my office to him, my arm outstretched, keeping the devil’s juice as far away as possible.
Mike smirks knowingly as he accepts. “Not joining me?”
I ignore him and sit on the couch opposite, fighting to keep my temper in check. “Talk,” I order shortly.
“I hear you’re dating.”
I stare at him with every ounce of malice I feel. “I’m not here to talk about Ava.” I can feel a threat coming, and I’m suddenly so fucking glad she refused to come. This isn’t going to end well. My mood was already in the gutter. This arsehole is going to send it into the sewer.
“Ava,” he muses, looking at his glass as he rolls his wrist, making the ice drag around the inside. Her name coming out of his mouth feels like nails down a chalkboard. “A little birdy told me she doesn’t know about The Manor.”
“A little birdy like who?” Who else am I going to decimate once I’ve seen to Mike?
He smiles. It’s cunning as fuck. “People talk, Ward.”
“Then people should learn to keep their mouths shut.” I get up to restrain my increasingly tense muscles before I dive across the table and strangle the fucker. “You wanted to talk, Mike. So fucking talk.”
“I want you to assure me my wife won’t be coming back.”
“Done,” I say. “And while I’m at it, I’ll revoke your membership too.” I’m done with both of them.
He’s off the couch in a heartbeat. “I’m keeping my membership.”
“Wrong.”
There’s a kerfuffle outside my office, and the door flings open. Sam stands on the threshold taking in the scene, John hovering behind him. “Okay?” I ask.
“Ava’s here,” he pants, and I freeze. The fuck? How? “Jesse?” Sam says, poking me from my inertness. “Ava is here, man.”
I snap to life, being assisted back to reality by the sound of Mike’s cackling laugh. “Who let her in?” I ask, charging past Sam and John, running down the corridor. “Who the fuck let her through the gates?”
“Don’t know,” Sam says.
“Where is she?”
“In the bar.”
But when I land in the bar, Ava is nowhere in sight, and I inhale, fearing the worst. I back out of the room slowly, casting my eyes up the curved staircase.