Chapter Four
Artemis
Where the fuck did you come from?
I’m staring at the shaking, wide-eyed woman standing in my kitchen with a wrench in her hand. Mark is crumpled at her feet, a large bump on the side of his head, and a little bit of blood seeping from a wound.
“Damn. Didn’t think you’d have it in you, Susie,” I say to her, scratching my head.
“Sissy,” she corrects, timidly.
“Same thing,” I reply, waving my hand dismissively. “I’ll agree, though; the man has one hell of a horse cock. Thought about riding it a few times myself, but so far I’ve managed to get him to keep his dick in his pants.”
She gives me a wide-eyed look, something reminiscent of a nun hearing someone say the wordfuckin church, and I grin. Her eyes quickly turn back down toward Mark as she subconsciously taps the wrench against her thigh.
“Fuck. He’s probably gonna call the cops when he wakes up,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Nah. I wouldn’t count on it,” I reply with a sly grin.
She looks back toward me with curiosity peeking out through a veil of freshly forming tears in her eyes, and I raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, didn’t you know? He has a thing for kiddie porn. Well, barely legal porn; though I really think he secretly wishes for them to be younger. I caught him once in a place I rented from him a few years ago. He was jerking off in my bathroom watching some depraved shit on his phone instead of fixing my toilet. But he’s kind of a hottie, so I just brushed it off and acted like I didn’t see it. It kinda bothers me now that I’m talking about it, but I’m about ninety-seven percent sure that they were teenage girls.”
She’s shaking now. I don’t know if it’s from fear, rage, or if that’s just her natural reaction to shit. She could be hopped up on meds, but that’s something else I wouldn’t be able to distinguish in the moment, ‘cause I didn’t know her very well.
“You okay?” I ask curiously.
“I should hit him again,” she says quietly, raising the wrench over her head.
I walk over to her quickly and grab her by the wrist, turning it sharply until she drops the wrench. I could talk him out of calling the cops on her, but there’s no way in hell I’d be able to talk the cops out of arresting her for murder.
“Not so fast there, slugger,” I say gently. “He’s not worth life without parole.”
She rubs her wrist for a moment before she swiftly leans down to retrieve her wrench then runs out of my apartment, leaving me standing there in my black see-through lingerie for the man that’s currently unconscious on my kitchen floor.
How is this my life right now?
I take a seat on the floor, my back against the sink doors, and cross my legs. I think what annoys me the most about my current situation is that she blasted him in the head before he could finish fixing my damn pipes.
I decide to close my eyes and try to take a nap. Maybe if I sleep a little bit, the lack of caffeine headache will go away and I’ll be more personable when Mark and I both wake up.
“Ugh,” Mark groans when I am halfway between sleep world and no coffee world. “What the fuck happened?”
I sigh and open my eyes. He is trying to push himself up, but only manages to turn over and get onto his hands. I smile. I can honestly say in all of the years that I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him so fucked up before.
Now, the obvious question was, would I tell him what happened or would I whip up a little white lie?
I take him in for a moment. His sturdy arms are wavering a bit, and I chalk it up to the beat down that Susie gave him. The side of his ruggedly handsome face is red and starting to swell, but I’m not in any rush to offer him ice. I’d need water for that.
“Sleep well?” I ask him with a chuckle.
“Huh?”
Mark turns his head slowly toward me, his eyes tightly shut. He blinks a few times before he opens them, and they’re still hazy as he tries to focus on me.
God, he could be so fucking hot if he knew how to keep his goddamn hands to himself.
His black hair, usually slicked back, is falling a bit into his eyes, and the dimples that peek out from behind his salt and pepper beard are hiding behind the pain. I’m not sure how old he is, because I never cared to ask him, but I guarantee he has to be at least fifty.
