Bossy(61)

“Shit! Don’t hurt me!” He seems to rally a little and struggles.

“Well, that depends on you now, doesn’t it? Paying attention?” I put a hand around his throat, pinning his head back to the wall.

He gasps for air. I’m not holding him hard enough to really choke, but it’s enough to freak him out. “Fuck! Yes. Yes!”

“Good.” I give him a little squeeze with my fingers. “This blackmailing shit is done. Now. Got it? You’re never going to come anywhere close to Claire again, or me for that matter. You make my fucking skin crawl.”

I’m not proud of how good it feels to scare the shit out of this guy. It’s tempting to press harder, until his red face turns purple. I will my fingers to relax before I give in to the temptation.

He jumps on it the second he thinks I’m backing down. “I make your skin crawl? Big words coming from a creep fucking his sister. How do you think that’s going to fly with the folks? You think you’re some big shot, saving Claire from a sleaze like me?” Michael cackles, looking me right in the eyes. “Guys like you move from girl to girl like fucking trophies. Yeah, I screwed up and I’m paying for it, but you? You’re worse. It’s just a matter of time before you get bored and move on to the next warm hole. Guess who’s going to be the shithead then, tough guy. This is all going to blow up in your fucking face.”

I slam him again, my grin widening at his pained grunt. “Mind your own fucking business and let me deal with that. I’m nothing like you.”

He lunges out so fast with his leg that he catches me off guard, straight into my balls.

Oh. My. Fucking. God, that hurts.

I stagger only a moment, but it’s enough for him to wrench free and dive for his bedroom door. Gritting my teeth, I follow, but he manages to get inside and slam the door shut, followed by a soft click. I grasp the door and shake it, but it doesn’t budge.

Locked.

“Michael,” I yell, shoving down the nausea that’s churning in my gut. I was only going to scare him. Now I’m gonna fucking kill him. “You’re only making this worse for yourself. I will kill you.”

He yells back at me through the door, “If you get out of here now, I’ll forget this ever happened. I’ll give you this one chance. But if I ever hear or see you near me or Claire again, that video is going out to everyone she has ever known.”

Fuck that shit. I back up a few steps before charging, leading with my shoulder. I slam into the door so hard the hinges creak and rattle as the cheap-ass frame pulls away from the wall.

“That’s it! I’m calling the police. I’m dialing 91-fucking-1 right now. Is this what you want? You’re going to jail, motherfucker.” His voice cracks.

I take a step back and look around. There, on the glass coffee table. “Hey Michael, this isn’t your phone out here, is it?”

“It’s—it’s my backup. The real one’s in here, and I’m dialing right—”

I slam into the door again, and this time the hinges come so loose that it’s hardly more than a push needed to knock it over.

He screams in terror. “For fuck’s sake, you’re insane!”

Am I? I feel a little crazy, and I let it all shine out as I step towards him, ready to pounce. “Do we have a deal, or no? Please say no. This is fun.” There’s nothing I want more than to beat him to a pulp, but the important thing is that he leaves Claire alone.

I’d also prefer to stay out of jail, but the more out of control he thinks I am, the easier it is to intimidate him.

“Fine! Yes! For God’s sake, just leave me alone.” The defeat in his voice is sweet music to my ears.

“Your date’s off. Our parents are getting married on Sunday, and the last thing Claire needs is to worry about you fucking up her life.” I draw a deep breath. “You lost, needledick. Now call her, I’m not leaving until I hear you do it.”

“I’ll call her.”

“Now! I want to hear you grovel.”

There’s a pause, just long enough to make me wonder if he’s going to be smart and do it, or if I’m going to have to get physical again.

“Fine. Alright. I’ll call now, but I need my phone,” he whines as he pulls himself off the floor.

Right. I turn towards the table, and I’m just picking the phone up when I hear a suspicious noise behind me. I whirl in time to see him come charging at me with a fucking baseball bat clutched over his head.

Seriously?

Dodging to the side, I get out of the way just fast enough to avoid getting brained. Instead, the bat continues down until it slams into the table, shattering the glass top with a loud crash. Shards fly everywhere, covering the cheap rug and spattering onto his couch and recliner. Good luck cleaning those out later.