Blinking, I look down at the display and my heart races.
Twitch: You’re welcome.
Oh.
That’s what happened.
Not a second passes when my phone pings a second time.
And this message makes my heart stop.
Twitch: For the record…you owe me, Angel.
I have no idea what that means, but I know this is not a good thing.
Sitting in complete silence, my chest aches.
What have I gotten myself into?
Going cold turkey when you’re trying to break an addiction can be painful. More like excruciating.
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Lexi. And I’m starting to sweat.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like the hold she has on me. I don’t like how affected I am by not seeing her.
You could call my avoidance of her a test of sorts.
I needed to know how deeply I’m rooted into this…this…would you call what we have a relationship?
Personally, I’d call it give and take.
She gives and I take.
Watching her on the sly is driving me crazy. The stupid woman went to work the day after she left my bed sick. A day. I had to watch from a distance as she slowly walked up the steps to the building, hands shaking, weak posture, and pale-faced.
I could’ve spanked her ass for that.
There’s something about a strong woman, though. Something that makes you watch her with pride.
Lexi lets nothing stand in her way.
Making a few calls to the right people, and finding out her mandatory drug test would be happening sooner than I thought, I knew I had to get involved.
Paying off the testee to swab her own mouth and replace Lexi’s with it was easier than I thought. Well worth the five hundred big ones.
Just like any addiction, my excuse to use again was too strong to fight. Lexi being the addiction, I text her. As soon as I did, I set my phone down on my desk and closed my eyes tight.
It was official.
I was never letting her go.
Walking over to the storage cupboard to get myself another printer cartridge, I stop dead in my tracks when I hear muffled talking coming from the inside.
My brow furrows. I step closer to listen in.
“Was this your first time?” Ling.
No answer.
She pries, “It’s okay if it was. You did great.”
Then, “It wasn’t my first time.” Michael. He says this much too defensively.
My rage spikes.
Ling starts, “Mickey, baby, it’s not a big deal. Really, it’s—”
The door opens and I’m met with Michael’s mussed hair and half-unbuttoned shirt.
I’m furious.
“Get back to work, knucklehead!” Michael jumps to attention.
Eyeing an annoyed Ling, I keep a threat in my voice when I point my finger at her and say, “You and I are going to talk about this.”
Walking away from the enraging scene, I hear Michael follow close behind. He stutters, “B-b-but you haven’t given me anything to do yet.” He quickly adds, “Sir.”
As we approach my office, I realize I’m not angry anymore. Just tired. I ask, “You need me to tell you what to do? Get a pen and notebook from the cupboard, just there.” I point to the left side of the room and he scuttles over there, trying to be quick as he can.
Sitting myself down at my desk, I watch him approach wide-eyed and I state, “Number one on your not to do list...”
His face bunches and he questions, “Not to do list?”
Ignoring him, I play with the letter opener that usually resides on my desk, “Number one: Do not have sex with Ling.”
Finally looking up at him, I watch his face flame. He explains quietly, “Sh-she said you’d be angry if I didn’t.”
Oh man. I want to punish her for manipulating this kid the way she has. No doubt he was a virgin too. She really is a sick fuck.
Not that I can talk.
The look on my face must convey my thought about Ling at this moment because Michael panics, “Is she in trouble?”
Disregarding him, I state, “Number two on your not to do list: Do not piss me off.”
But he remains focused on Ling. “You won’t…” He swallows hard. “You won’t hurt her, right?”
Scoffing, I lift my hand high and bring down the letter opener down to my desk with a dull thud. The dagger stands upright, piercing my monstrosity of a desk and I point at him, giving my final instruction. “Number three on your not do to list: Do not – and I mean ever, Michael – do not ever question me.”
He blinks a moment before nodding his understanding and jotting down his directions. I see so much of myself in this kid that I feel something for him. Something almost paternal.
Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Kid, the only time I’d ever put my hands to a woman,” I smirk at his sudden look of interest, “is if she begged me to.”
Stepping closer, he looks behind him at the open door before leaning closer and whispering, “D-does that happen a lot?”