Confronting Mike is probably a bad idea, but I have no fucks left to give.
It’s been a long-ass day. I’m tired, and because of him, I’m scrambling to be at Brady’s side when he needs me most.
I march right up to Mike’s group, which is a total sausage fest, and tap him on the shoulder.
He turns to face me and it takes a full five seconds for him to react.
When recognition finally sets in, his eyes go wide and a stupid smirk appears on his thin lips.
What I wouldn’t give to smack that look right off his face.
Of course, then I’d probably be arrested, and I’d never get a job in education.
“What the hell are you doing?” I plant my hands on my hips so I don’t succumb to the urge to wring his scrawny neck.
“What does it look like?” He pulls a face. “I came to see Waverly break their losing streak, just like everyone else.”
“Uh, oh.” The dark-haired guy to Mike’s right snickers. “Looks like Mikey’s got lady trouble.”
“What else is new?” The blond on his left rolls his eyes and takes a pull on his beer. “Maybe you two could take it somewhere else? No offense, but I don’t need your drama killing my buzz.”
Drama? I’ll give him drama.
The entire group reeks of alcohol, but it’s not like I have to worry about my safety since the lobby is teaming with witnesses.
“Are you shitting me right now? You’re—”
“Let’s not make a scene.” Mike thrusts his beer into his buddy’s hand and then he grabs my biceps and drags me away from the group, jaw clenched.
“Get your hands off me.” I jerk free of his grip, stopping just shy of the elevators. “Afraid your friends will find out you’re a complete piece of shit?”
Who am I kidding? They probably already know.
“You have some nerve,” I hiss. “You’re bleeding me dry and this is how you’re spending my hard-earned money?”
I gesture wide, encompassing the expansive marble lobby of the four-star hotel.
A hotel I can’t even afford to stay at because Mike’s blackmail scheme has drained my savings account.
“It’s how I’m spendingmymoney,” he says, narrowing his glassy eyes.
“Right. Because you workedsohard to earn it.”
Does he have any idea how many hours I put in to hone my craft, build my following, and create the content that paid for this trip?
No, and he doesn’t care.
“You said you needed the money for school, but that was just an excuse, wasn’t it? A way to justify your sick scheme when the truth is, you’re a selfish-bastard.”
My words barely penetrate his alcohol-soaked brain.
“What difference does it make how I use the money? Seems like you’re doing just fine to me. Fangirl must pay better than I thought.” He pauses, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his disgusting head. “Maybe it’s time we discuss a regular payment schedule for the spring semester.”
Fuck. That.
“I’m not giving you another dime.” I slash my hand through the air to emphasize my point. “I’m done.”
“I decide when we’re done.” He leans in close, his sour breath filling the space between us. “Unless, of course, you’d like me to schedule a little reveal for Dr. Barnes.”
