***
I walked into my office an hour later, dropped into my chair, leaned my head back and shut my eyes. My head ached to the point of desperation. I massaged my temples, praying that would ease it, but it hadn’t helped all morning so I wasn’t holding my breath.
“Have you still got that headache?”
I opened my eyes to find Merrick standing in my doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“Yeah.”
He uncrossed his arms and walked towards me. “You need to go to the fucking doctor and get that shit sorted.”
“You’re worse than a wife, you know that?”
“And you’re a stubborn motherfucker who needs a fucking wife to kick his ass into gear.”
I yanked my desk drawer open looking for aspirin, but there were none to be found. I slammed the drawer shut. “Fuck.”
I pushed my chair back and stood before stalking to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the river. Clenching my fists, I took some deep breaths to try and get my shit together.
Merrick interrupted me. “Have you called her?”
I spun around and glared at him. “Fuck, Merrick. I told you I’m not gonna fucking call her. Don’t say that shit to me.”
His temper almost matched mine. “You need to fucking call her, Blade. It’s clear to me there’s something there, and it’s about fucking time you pulled your head out of your ass.”
My chest squeezed tight with the turmoil I was experiencing. “No, I won’t taint her with my darkness.”
“Did you ever stop to think she might not care? That she might share some of her lightness with you? She might be the best fucking thing to happen to you in a long time, and you’re willing to just throw it away before you even find out?” His voice gradually grew louder and he rubbed the back of his neck as he fought his frustration with me.
“And did you stop to think I might be the worst thing to happen to her?” The brutal heaviness in my chest made it hard to breathe.
Fuck.
I clenched my fists again, craving violence. It helped ease the demons.
I need to find another outlet.
You had one, asshole.
“Fuck!” I roared, and turned and smashed my fist into the wall behind me. The pain radiated up my arm, and I welcomed it. I’d learnt to embrace pain rather than fight it. I’d also learnt to inflict it upon myself: the distraction of physical pain calmed the hurt of emotional pain.
Turning back to Merrick, I demanded, “Is she okay?”
He ignored the hole I’d put in the wall. It wasn’t the first one I’d ever put there and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “Yes. Ben’s got some of the guys watching her and has reported no problems. No backlash from Mario’s people.”
“Good,” I murmured.
“You calmed down enough to discuss Phil Deacon?”
“Yeah, what the fuck’s he up to now?”
“Ben’s been investigating, and has confirmed Phil’s definitely putting a bid in for the Hurley job. Ben’s also been able to confirm Phil’s got you in his sights.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“Not sure yet, but he’s told his men anything goes.”
“Yeah, I bet he has. Keep Ben on him.” I stared at him for a moment. “This is gonna be a fucking cock fight, isn’t it?”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
Just what we fucking need.
Chapter Thirteen
Layla
“Have you heard from him?” Jess asked while she straightened the bottles of alcohol on the shelf behind the bar.
I watched her from the bar stool I’d sat my ass on fifteen minutes ago. Weariness had claimed me and it was only four in the afternoon. How the hell was I going to make it through the night? “No,” I answered her and did my best to ignore the ache in my heart.
She jerked her head around to look at me. “Shit, what’s it been now? Like, five days?”
“Jess, I know you’re obsessively compulsive about those labels facing out but even you’ve taken this too far. This is the third time you’ve done it today and the day’s hardly even begun,” I said, distracting her.
Glaring at me, she muttered, “Shut up. We hardly have any customers and I get all fidgety when I’m not busy. The fucking labels call to me, and I can’t shut them up.”
I laughed and held up my hands defensively. “The labels are all yours.”
“Now answer my question,” she said as she finished with the bottles and gave me her full attention.
I sighed. “Yes, five days.”
I miss him.
“Why don’t you call him? It’s not like you to let a man walk all over you.”
I sighed. “He’s broken somehow.”
She shrugged. “So? We all are in our own way, babe.”
“Yeah, we are, but he’s really struggling with it at the moment I think.”
“So push him. If you want to pursue something with him, fucking fight for it.”
“I know I should, but . . . ”