Page 51
Story: Bloody Wedding
You have nothing to be sorry for.
Whatever happened, I want you to know I did enjoy myself.
But if you try that shit again next Monday?
I’ll bite your dick off
I laugh. From the threat, from the relief that she’s not already hitching a ride back to Bridgewater, from the adorable little smiley face at the end… I laugh, and feeling a whole lot lighter, I set my phone down again and finally get to work.
I work through lunch,eager to finish today’s schedule so that I can get home to Loni earlier.
Mark dropped off a sandwich for me that I nibbled at before wrapping up and storing in my office fridge. Some people get super hungry when they’re going off cigarettes, but it’s been the opposite for me.
Unless you consider how much I’m craving Loni’s taste, that is.
My body comes alive when I remember last night. I’m just grateful my office has a personal bathroom because I’ve been in there three times already, desperate to get the edge off. I’m already warning my poor cock that it’s going to be a while until Loni lets us in again, but I’m glad that she didn’t revoke permission for the rest of our marriage. Next Monday’s going to suck, but there’s always the one after that…
Still, I’m fighting another erection when someone knocks at my office door. Sexually frustrated and annoyed that my orders to be left alone after Mark gave me the sandwich have been ignored, I snap, “Go the fuck away.”
The secretaries are used to my volatile personality. Outside of the Order, I have to keep up the charming facade that made me one of the most popular kids in school. Inside? My job is too fucking important to be interrupted by bullshit.
But when the door eases open, a slightly familiar face appearing in the doorway… I don’t think it’s bullshit after all.
Huh.
“May I come in?”
The man in the thousand-dollar suit is thirty, maybe thirty-one. He has the kind of cultured, moneyed look that Jack’s paid out of the ass for. His cheekbones are sharp, his dark blue eyes shrewd, and there’s a closely cropped dark beard shadowing his chiseled jaw.
I don’t even get the chance to invite him in or kick him out. As though taking my agreement as inevitable, he steps in, closes the door behind him, then stalks across the room.
I have one seat in my office. Half the time, Dallas is sitting in it, hiding from his father. The other half, I piled up my laptop bag and whatever shit I brought into the office from home to discourage anyone from sitting down and lingering.
Today, it’s just my laptop bag. The man eyes it closely, lifts it, sets in on the carpet. Nodding at me, he takes a seat, totally owning it within an instant.
Interesting, I think.
Very interesting.
He leans forward just far enough to extend his hand. “Adrian Heller? I’m so glad we finally have the chance to meet.”
Okay. He looks familiar, but… “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“We’ve spoken through a mutual friend, I think.” His hand is still extended. “My name is Nicholas Reed.”
Oh.
I take his hand and shake it. No wonder he looked familiar. I went on a deep dive, researching the Reed twins, and found a picture of Nicholas in particular on the website for Shadowvale Sanitation. Despite being a contract killer on the side, his day job was owning the sanitation copy and lumber mill in his hometown.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him, lying through my teeth. He couldn’t complete the job for me on time, but he can stop by for a visit? “What brings you to Harmony Heights.”
Sighing, Nicholas leans back into the chair. “I pride myself on my reputation. Mine and my brother’s. I’ve come to apologize in person about a… miscommunication.”
I tilt my head, listening. “Go on.”
“What do you know about the Hummingbird?”
So we’re not going to pretend that he isn’t a hired hitman then? Good. I hate beating around the bush.
Table of Contents
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- Page 51 (Reading here)
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