He roars, ignoring the damage and coming after me again. This time, I’m ready. When he pulls back for a side swing, I charge him, hooking my arms under his and carrying him forward into a full tackle onto the floor. He screams as he lands, and I hope to fucking God he got some of those glass shards digging into his back.
The bat rattles over the floor, and my fist meets his face, pounding his head into the floor before he has a chance to go for it. My heart’s pounding like a fucking jackhammer, pumping blood through my veins so hard it hurts, but his eyes are wild and unfocused and I don’t want to do permanent damage, so I let it go with the one punch. I jump off him and grab the bat, hefting it like I’m about to swing. “Don’t you fucking get up, or I’m going to score a fucking home run with your balls.”
He’s up on his elbows, but he drops back down to the floor. “I’ll call her,” he wheezes. There’s a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, and when he exhales a little spit bubble carries more with it. “I’ll call her.”
“That’s right. Right fucking now. And if I hear anything more from you after that, I’ll be back to play ball. Got it? Claire had better be smiling when she comes in to work tomorrow.” I shake the bat at him threateningly, and he immediately curls up, protecting his nuts. Smart man.
He doesn’t say anything, just watches me like I’m a wild animal, breath wheezing out of him. He’s done. He knows I know where to find him now.
“Come on. I don’t have all fucking day.” I dropped the phone when he jumped me, but it looks okay. I gesture at it with the bat. “Pick it up. Speaker phone.”
He dials with shaking fingers, and then we both listen in silence while it rings. On the third one, she picks up. “Michael? I said I was sorry about tonight. Is everything still okay for Wednesday?” Her voice is fucking music to my ears, but the nervous sound in her voice makes me feel like I let him off easy.
“Uh... hey. Actually, about that...” His voice quavers and he keeps glancing my way before looking back down. I gesture at him to get on with it.
“What is it? I’m doing what you wanted.”
“Listen, I—Well, I’m calling it off.” He swallows deeply.
“Do you need to reschedule?”
“No, I mean the whole thing. I’ve changed my mind.” He draws a deep breath, forcing the words out. “I met someone else, so there’s no point.”
“Are you serious? You wanted this badly enough to threaten my whole life and now... you don’t care?” She sounds shocked and pissed off. “Because you met somebody.”
“Yeah. Love at first sight or whatever. You’re free.” He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, scowling when I blow him a kiss. “I won’t bother you again.”
“And you’re going to get rid of that video? For real this time?”
“I swear.”
“I don’t know what changed your mind, but thank you.” She sounds relieved, but suspicious. I can’t say that I blame her. “Well, I guess, goodbye then.”
“Yeah. Goodbye.” Michael’s voice sounds dead. Completely void of emotions. He stands up and looks at me, his eyes hard. “Happy? I did like you asked.”
“I’m not going to be fucking happy until I’ve brained you with this thing.” I shake the bat at him and he scuttles away from me.
“Jesus Christ! I did what you told me to. Just get the hell out of here.”
“Now, I know that making you delete the video while I watch doesn’t mean a fucking thing. Who knows how many copies you’ve got squirreled away? But if I ever hear anything about you bothering Claire again, I will be back. And then I won’t stop. Got it?”
“I’m not an idiot, so yeah.” He shakes his head and brushes glass off his sleeves. “I get it, you’re bigger and stronger, but you’re no better than I am. We’re both using her, but at least I was offering her more than a cheap fuck and a screwed up family tree.”
It would be so tempting to swing this bat. I can feel it, the muscles in my shoulder drawing it back and letting it sail forward until it wipes him from existence. I don’t, because he’s not worth it.
But I do swing and let it sail right past him, getting a sick sort of pleasure out of the look on his face when he thinks it’s all over, and the dark spot that grows slowly down the leg of his pants.
I’m nothing like him.
And if I keep telling myself that long enough, it might even be true.
Claire
“What's the difference between a lawyer and a leech?” Carl peers at me from behind the reception counter, waiting for my answer while chewing his cruller.