I shouldn’t do it, but listening in on her phone call doesn’t even hit the top ten of shit I shouldn’t do, so I don’t let it bother me. I close the door almost, but not quite enough to mask her voice.
“No, it wasn’t him. I swear. I’ve been with... Carl. He’s one of the older attorneys here. Don’t be gross, he’s like my mom’s age.”
Carl the attorney? Well, that’s obviously bullshit. So who wouldn’t want to hear that she was with me? Michael the dickhead jumps to the top of the likely suspects, but why the hell would she even be talking to him?
“Fine. Wednesday, then,” she says with obvious resignation. “No, I won’t miss it. Yeah. Bye.” She hangs up and I hear her moving around in the office, and the pull of a zipper. I lean up against her desk and try to look bored when she peeks out the door.
“We’re pretty much done, right? I just need to clean up before I leave.”
“Sure, no problem. I can finish what’s left.” I push my way past her back into my office. “So was that your lucky date for the evening?”
Claire wrinkles her nose. “More of an obligation than a date. We rescheduled for Wednesday.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Oh yeah, tons.” She grimaces like she just bit into a lemon. “Alright, getting washed up.” She heads to the restrooms.
Her purse is gone, but there, on the edge of my desk is her cell phone, screen still bright. I grab it before it locks up, and quickly check the call log.
Bingo. Michael. That little shit is trying to scam both of us. Obviously. And the way things are going, I don’t think my keeping away is going to happen, which means I need to find another solution.
When Claire gets back, I don’t even try to railroad her into getting a drink or going back to my place. I’ve got plans now, and they involve finding out where ratboy lives, and having some serious words with him.
And by words, I mean my fist in his face.
Declan
The doorbell rings like the fucking Big Ben. Tacky as hell. I wait long enough for the melody to stop before I run out of patience and ring it again. He’d better be home, because I drove all the way here and I know his date got cancelled.
It would be rude of Mikey not to stick his face out so I can smash it.
It took a little detective work to figure out where he was living after getting kicked out of Claire’s old place, but I got his last name from his parents’ address. After that it was pretty easy. You don’t have to be Sherlock when you have the fucking internet at your fingertips, and a whole truckload of idiots publicly tweeting about where they are 24/7.
His townhouse looks like it’s seen better days. The red brick has a sickly gray tinge, and the windows have sheets hanging in them instead of curtains. No wonder he wants Claire back. After seeing their apartment, I wouldn’t want to live in this shithole either. He should’ve treated Claire better and not fucked around on her.
Of course, then I wouldn’t be fucking her, so maybe I should thank him instead.
I crack my knuckles and change tactics, banging loudly on the door instead.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Jesus, what’s the hurry?” It’s Michael’s voice all right. Muffled through the door, but I recognize his whiny tone.
I move a little to the side in case he has a peep hole. He clicks open the locks, and I’m already feeling the adrenaline kicking in. Every muscle in my body is tight and ready to spring.
The door opens with a creak. “What the hell’s so import—” He sees my face and immediately slams the door.
Or tries to anyway.
Stabbing my foot out, I brace it against the door while I pivot the rest of my weight over and into it. It flies open, knocking Michael back onto his ass so hard he bounces.
He shrieks while putting his arms up to cover his face. His words are rushed and panicked. “Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me!”
My lip curls up in disgust. I slam the door so we aren’t disturbed, and bat his hands aside so I can get a good grip on the front of his shirt. I haul him to his feet and shove him up against the wall with a satisfying thump. He grunts in pain, and I happily admit that the sound makes me feel a little better already.
“Alright, you little worm. I’ve decided to present a counteroffer to your shitty blackmail attempt. Are you ready to hear it, or do I need to get persuasive?” My grin is feral, deathly serious and probably ugly as hell.
Eyes wide open, he shakes his head so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t pull his neck in the process. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d never—”
I cut him off by slamming him back into the wall. “Don’t play dumb. I’m here because you couldn’t settle for just being a regular jackass. You had to go above and beyond, so I’m returning the favor.”