Page 1 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

Bella

Kill me now

Layla

Slow and painful or quick and fast?

Bella

I’ve been summoned into Jason’s office

Layla

Quick and fast it is

“ Y ou’re fired.”

Jason leans back in his desk chair, not bothering to hide the glint in his gaze.

As if he isn’t blindsiding me. As if he isn’t killing my mother.

“You understand, right? The higher-ups were a little too excited hiring during 2020.” His gaze turns quizzical after my prolonged silence. “Jesus, Isabella, you’re not seriously shocked, are you?”

It’s Bella, not Isabella, you preposterous twat. I feel like shouting at the bastard but after correcting him for three years I doubt the sentiment will get through his thick skull now.

And no, I’m not the least bit shocked.

Not because I’m a bad employee. I’m far from it.

I’m punctual to a fault, catch mistakes before they can cause irreparable damage, have taken on two colleague’s workloads over the past eight months, and to top it all off, when Steve from accounting tried to shove his hand up my skirt at the Christmas office party, I didn’t knee him in the balls and call the police like I had initially wanted to.

I have made myself small. So incredibly small over the past three years that I’m surprised Jason can even see me.

Granted, his eyes have barely left my cleavage.

Why am I not shocked? Why do I even stay, all things considered? Unfortunately, I ask myself the same questions every time I walk through the front door of this shithole.

Two uncomfortable truths have stopped me from walking.

I need the money— desperately .

It pains me to admit but Jason isn’t wrong.

Far too many employees were hired in 2020, and their jobs have been made redundant over the past three years. That’s not even mentioning the rise of AI taking over people’s jobs.

No one is hiring.

Everyone is firing.

I’ve witnessed colleagues scream in this room; I’ve watched them cry and beg because they have a family to feed that depends on them.

All the while Jason sits in that big, comfy chair of his, looking down his nose at his employees and savoring the fact he never closes the blinds to his floor-to-ceiling glass panel doors.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see he hasn’t given me the decency of closing the blinds either. I expected this. In fact, I hoped he wouldn’t close them.

Because I’m going to savor every second I wipe that smug smirk off his face.

Lifting my head, I paste on the fakest smile I’ve ever shown in my life and nod my chin toward the lone sheet of paper on his desk .

“I take it that’s my severance package?”

Jason stumbles, his arrogant smirk faltering.

This clearly wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. And now I know that humiliating his ex-employees was never an accident.

The bastard is sadistic, and I would love nothing more than to spit in his coffee, kick his balls so far up his ass he sees stars, and introduce his girlfriends to one another. But I, unfortunately, have more self-control than that.

Perhaps too much self-control.

He clears his throat. “Yes, it’s what the company sees fit.”

Taking the sheet of paper before his greedy hands can touch it, I flip it over and bite my tongue to stop the bark of indignation from escaping.

Is this a fucking joke?

A humorless laugh escapes me.

Fuck self-control.

“The company saw fit to give me a week’s pay with an effective immediate layoff?

” My head cocks to the side as I stare down the smallest man who ever lived.

“They saw fit to give the employee, whose workload tripled without a pay rise, enough money to buy a tank of gas and a small cart of groceries?” My cheeks hurt from how strained my smile grows.

“The company saw fit to throw their only graphic designer out on her ass even after they manipulated her to be quiet over their sweet darling nepotism child assaulting her?”

That gets a rise out of him.

BANG.

Jason slaps the desk so hard I hear a gasp ring out from somewhere in the office behind me.

He spits through gritted teeth as he points a meaty finger at me, “You signed an NDA.”

Now my smile turns real.

“With disappearing ink.”

Jason’s jaw drops as the veins in his neck pulse. “There’s no such thing?—”

“On the contrary, there is. Google it.”

“You little bit?—”

“Careful, Jason,” I say sweetly, raising my phone.

“You’re on camera. Now, what was it that you were saying?

Oh, yes! That I’ve put up with your bullshit for so long, taken upon three workloads without a pay raise—which, let me remind you, is illegal because of the signing contract I was offered when starting—and in turn, the company is so devastated to see me go they’ve offered me six months’ severance pay?

” I place a hand over my chest, keeping my phone camera trained on the man glaring daggers at me as I practically purr, “I’ll accept. ”

A ll the bravado leaves my body the second I get inside my Honda Civic. If it weren’t for the numerous heads popping up to watch me walk away in the window above, I would wait for my nervous system to settle. But I can’t let them see me fumble, not after that escapade.

So, despite my shaking hands, I shove the small box that contains three years of my corporate life onto my passenger seat, clutch the wheel with a death grip, and drive.

Using the Bluetooth on Apple CarPlay, I call the only person I need at this moment.

The phone only rings once.

Before Layla can so much as utter a word, I blurt out, “I was fired.”

A gasp explodes from my speakers. “Oh god, B, I’m so sorry.”

“I saw it coming. I was prepared.”

Yet despite my controlled words, my heart is sinking, and with every second that passes, panic builds more and more.

“Did they give you a fair severance?”

I scoff. “After I blackmailed him. Before that they were only going to give me a week.”

“A week ?” Layla’s high-pitched voice explodes through my car again. “They don’t deserve you, Bella. Truly, they don’t. They took your hard work for granted. ”

Sighing, I can’t help but relent, “I shouldn’t have taken on Alex and Kristy’s workload. I was just trying to delay the inevitable. Did you know someone proposed using AI art?”

Another gasp of dismay comes over the line. “No, they didn’t!”

“Oh, yes they did…with me in the room.”

The line goes silent, the only sound my tires on the highway as I drive toward my mother’s house.

“I have it on video if you want a laugh,” I offer as the silence stretches.

“You know I wouldn’t laugh at that.”

No, she wouldn’t. Layla is too loyal to find humor in my misery.

But….

“Jason’s face when I lifted the phone was priceless. I’m tempted to send a screenshot of it around the company before I’m kicked from the system.”

“Maybe you can turn it into a meme about using AI.”

A bark of laughter bursts from me, proving that the best person to call is always your best friend.

My laughter dies off in a painful death as I slow my car and pull into my mother’s driveway. It’s nothing fancy, just a quaint one-story house with three bedrooms, but the Spanish-style house has always been home . Until it turned into a memorial of all we have lost as a family.

It no longer smells like cinnamon. Instead, hospital-grade cleaning greets me every time. It’s no longer warm or comforting but freezing, as if I took a portal to Antarctica. Laughter is no longer heard; the only sounds that fill the house these days are curses at the universe and quiet sobs.

“Bella?” Layla asks softly.

“I don’t think I can face her right now,” I admit begrudgingly. It’s the first time my words lack their semblance of control.

Something rustles over the phone.

“I’ll send my mom over. You can’t take care of someone when you need to be taken care of yourself.” She pauses. “You need to fill up your own cup, B. You can’t keep pouring when you have nothing to give.”

I’m shaking my head before I remember she can’t see me. “It’s too much. Your mom has enough on her plate as it is?—”

“Don’t be silly, I’ve already sent the text. She’ll be there in fifteen minutes, so I suggest if you don’t want to be coddled by Mama Bear Carson, you hightail it out of there.”

A wobbly laugh escapes from my lips as the image of Layla’s mother squishing me in one of her famous small yet mighty hugs fills my mind. The woman is tiny and yet makes you feel like you’re being cocooned by a friendly bear.

I love Mrs. Carson—she is like no other, and when you meet her, you understand how Layla is so soft-spoken and kind—but the last thing I need right now is to talk about my feelings and healthily deal with this.

“Let’s get drunk,” I suddenly declare.

“Already dressed and have my keys. Any requests?”

“Vodka. Lots and lots of vodka.”

Layla pauses for a moment. “Oh jeez, you know it’s bad when it’s anything other than wine.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. Just don’t let me drunk dial anyone…or send out a meme of Jason’s face.”

She snorts. “I would never. I’m leaving now. I’ll meet you at yours.”

“Thank you!”

Before the emotion can fully clog my throat, I disconnect the call.

Guilt weighs heavy on my heart as I put my car in reverse and watch as my mom’s house grows smaller in my rearview mirror.

Yet, despite the distance, the panic that’s clutching my heart won’t ease.

Six months of severance will barely get us through three months.

My mom’s cancer treatment depends on not only my monthly checks but also my savings account.

Which is dwindling day by day, along with my mom’s health.