When I’m satisfied with my handiwork, I walk over to the door at the side of the office and open it. The bathroom is small, but it’ll do. I don’t like his blood on me.
Washing and washing and washing until I’m sure my hands are clean, I walk back out to the office to see Michael leaning over Hamid’s ashen face and twitching body, taking in his now-gaping eye socket with wide eyes. Happy stands to the side, also watching carefully to see what Michael will do.
Michael asks an empty, “Will he die?”
I answer softly, “No. But he’ll wish he did.”
The boy looks up at me, “Did you do this for—” He looks embarrassed. “For me?”
“Partly,” I tell him. And it’s the truth. No one fucks with my employees. But Hamid had it coming. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. He’s lucky it was me, because he will live another day to be the rat he is.
Michael nods. I look over to Happy, his eyes still trained on the boy, an impressed look on his face.
Yes. He’ll do nicely.
Pulling out my wallet, I remove my business card from it and walk over to the desk to write a note for Hamid when he comes to.
Declaring war was a mistake. For the record…I won.
I always win.
Walking over his limp body, I let the card flutter down onto his chest and walk towards the exit, men in tow. As we approach the SUV, I hail one of Hamid’s goons and state, “You want your boss to live, you’ll call an ambulance. Right now.”
His eyes widen before he runs towards the office. My men packed up and ready to leave, we roll out to the sounds of hell breaking loose.
Turning to Michael, who sits next to me, he watches me through wide eyes.
I smirk and tousle his hair.
Yes.
The boy will do fine.
Turning the key to unlock my unit, I wonder why Twitch never responded to my message asking if Michael is okay.
Face bunched in confusion, I hang up my coat, set down my bag on the breakfast bar, and walk towards my room. Stopping mid-step halfway down the hall, I listen closely.
The shower runs.
“Twitch?” I call out.
A familiar voice calls out, “No, baby. It’s me.” Dave. My smile dies as soon as he adds, “And we’re going to talk about why you think that strange man is in your shower as soon as I get out.”
Shit.
My phone pings.
Nikki: Girls night! Whoo! Be there soon x
Girls night? Tonight? There’s no way I would’ve forgotten something like that.
Having had a shower this morning, I dress in sweats and a tank, then spray the crap out of myself with deodorant.
You know…just in case.
As I walk into the kitchen, the bathroom door opens and I hear thumping footsteps coming towards me. Dressed in only a towel and still wet from his shower, Dave engulfs me in a bear hug that I’m not ready for. Faceplanting into his wet chest, the ass hugs me tighter when I say a panicked and muffled, “Can’t. Breathe!”
Pinching his side, he chuckles and hugs me harder. Literally having my air supply cut off by a hard chest, I act on instinct. Given no other choice, I bite his nipple. Hard.
Dave yelps and jumps away from me, looking miffed but still grinning, “That hurt, bitchflaps!”
Placing a hand on my hip and breathing heavily, I screech, “I was almost suffocated by man-boob!”
Dave gasps, “Those boobs are muscular, fabulous pecs, ho!”
Unable to stop myself from laughing at his offended expression, I ask warily, while running a hand down my face, “Why’d you call a girls night? What’s up?”
He smiles like a goddamn loon. “All in good time. Nikki needs to be here for this.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn and walk into the kitchen, making sure to have Cocoa à la Lexi ready for whatever news my friend is going to tell us.
Placing the cocoa on a tray, I walk it over to my coffee table just as the front door to my unit opens. Looking up, I find a much too happy Nikki strolling in with a container.
A container full of...
“Double choc, peanut butter niknaks?” I almost screech. “You made double choc, peanut butter niknaks?”
Taking in her grin, I bounce on the spot in excitement. Those niknaks are the shit.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask from her side, reaching into the container. Slapping my hand away, she chuckles at my forlorn expression and utters, “All in good time, honey.”
When Dave strolls into the living area dressed in light grey sweat sans tee, towel drying his hair, he takes one look at Nikki and grins cockily, “I’m so glad you’re here!”
She sends him an equally winning smile and lays on the sweetness a little too thick. “Oh, sweetie, I missed you too! Come have a niknak.”
Dave spies the niknaks. His face pulls into a frown. Almost asking himself, he mutters, “Why do we have niknaks today?”