“You’re the bestest girl. Let’s get you a treat.”
I have a treat jar behind my desk, although why I need one is a mystery, because she gets plenty from Damon and Jacob, but occasionally, I get to give her one myself.
“Here you go. Such a good girl.”
The door slams shut with a sharp bang. It startles me, and I whirl to see what happened. I’m absolutely shocked to see Bill standing by the door. How the hell did he get into the arena? The lock clicks, and a feeling of dread washes over me.
“Bill?”
“Joslyn,” he sneers.
Of course, I completely forgot about him amid the Matilda drama and everything else that has happened in the last two days. Could we please just go through one day without drama?
My eyes narrow as I take in his disheveled appearance. His expensive suit is wrinkled and stained, the costly fabric torn in unexpected places. Is that ketchup on his shirt? God, I hope so. I don’t want to think about what else it could be. The sparse hair he does have is lank and greasy, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, but it’s his expression that has me gasping in alarm. Bitter resentment twists his features, his watery blue eyes intense and paranoid, and a malicious smirk appears as he gives me a once-over.
Holy shit! Bill’s obviously not playing with a full deck at this point. I’m cautious as I respond.
“What are you doing here, Bill?” I keep my voice soft and non-confrontational. I don’t want to spook him.
“Don’t act surprised. You knew I was coming for you.” His harsh voice is loaded with malice.
“How did you even get inside the arena?” I know we hired extra security, and Bill’s picture was prominently displayed.
“Matilda has her uses. She really hates your guts, you know. I didn’t even have to persuade her, she was on board the minute I mentionedmy plan. She even provided a distraction. She’s been waiting years to say something to you. So pathetic. Not like he even gave a shit about her.” He sneers, apparently disgusted by her feelings for Kurt. Now I’m starting to feel a bit bad for her again.
“I wouldn’t have needed her if I could have gotten into your house. I tried, but that stupid mutt started barking.” He chuckles mirthlessly. It all clicks in my head, the damn trash cans. I really thought that Abby was barking at a bunch of teenagers. Score one for my pupper. I’m also starting to feel much better about that new security system at home.
“This is all your fault! Why couldn’t you just know your place? You can’t possibly think you’re smart enough to run this team?” He snickers at the thought. His deranged look has me doubting his mental capacity.
I can’t help myself as I blurt out, “Still an asshat, I see.”
Why can’t I just shut up? Apparently, my inner badass is on a roll today, or maybe I’m just over people’s shit.
The cruel smile that appears on his face ramps up my uneasiness as he moves toward me. I shiver with apprehension as Abby leans into my leg with a slight whine.
He pulls his hand from his pocket, and I’m faced with the barrel of a gun as he purposefully strides in my direction. I scramble back until I hit my desk. Holy shit, that’s a fucking gun. My fear spikes, and my heart tries to beat right out of my chest. Abby’s low growl fills the silence.
“You better keep that mutt under control. I’d hate to have to shoot it.” He looks positively thrilled at the thought of hurting my Abby.
You have to be a real douchebag to hurt an animal.
Yeah, I keep that thought to myself this time because… gun. I might be furious, but I’m not stupid, despite my behavior earlier. Also, where the fuck is Evan? Because this would be the perfect situation for a bodyguard to handle. Then, I remember that Bill locked the door. Fuck! Mel has keys, maybe I can shout to get her attention. She’d never disturb me otherwise.
“Not so confident now, are we?” he sneers, his pompous smile reappearing. That’s not gonna be good for me. I need to keep him talking while I devise a plan. Think, Joslyn, think!
“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I mean, Kurt and Tad didn’t give you the ownership. They left it to Jacob and me. Why didn’t they leave it to you? Maybe because they knew they couldn’t trust you?”
I needle him, watching his face closely. He’s beyond rational now, so he’s not even trying to hide his hatred. Spiteful resentment distorts his expression as my comment hits its target. Good. Now for more.
“You’re not really at their social level, are you, Bill? You know how it is, good enough to do their dirty work but not good enough to sit at their table. Maybe you need to knowyourplace?“ I sneer, putting as much disdain as I can muster into my tone. Not that it’s difficult at this point. Now, if I can just keep my voice steady.
I give him a smug smirk to emphasize my point and twist the knife a bit deeper.
His face turns a deep red and contorts into a mask of savage fury.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars.
I flinch but maintain my vigilance. I’m getting really sick of that fucking word. His gun hand starts to shake, and he wobbles a bit unsteadily. This is not a man in control of himself. Time for one more poke.
