I WAS GOING out of my fucking mind. I tried to sit with Victor and the guys for a dinner his bottom bitch cooked up, but I couldn’t stomach it. When Vic said some off the wall shit about Nikki—something about divorcing her—it killed any and all chances of me sitting with him and being chummy.
I went to the smallest, quietest place—his underused work out room—to sweat it out.
Vic popped up in the doorway and lit up a cigarette, watching me.
“Give me something to do, other than the bullshit with Trish. No. I need something else. Something more.” I paced around the heavy bag, feeling like I had a dozen pinpricks stuck into my skin all at once. “I need fucking blood on my hands.” Eighteen to twenty-hour shifts were my daily routine. I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept much at all in the weeks I’d crashed with him. It could’ve been his house. It could’ve been the fact that I couldn’t sleep without her. It could’ve been the fact that she stabbed me in the shoulder, and I had consistently refused pain meds since.
It should have hurt more than it did, but it didn’t. I barely felt it. I needed the pain to get me out of my headspace. The headline and feature presentation were always of me hurting Nikki—making her pay for betraying me.
I looked at my shaking hands. “Goddamn it!” I shouted to the ceiling and hit the bag hard with a full-powered jab that made it rock back and forth.
Victor followed my erratic movement around the room with his eyes. He shook his head. Pity was on his face. Pity? I’m the guy he pities now? “What has she done to you?”
“Nothing,” I snapped, then relaxed. “I’m good. I’m ready. Isn’t this what you wanted? Me away from her? Her away from me?”
He puffed on his cigar, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Take one of the rooms upstairs and get some rest,” he said, the cigar still firmly between his teeth. “If you feel the same tomorrow, we’ll talk about some jobs outside of what I want you to do with Trisha. Deal?”
Was he kidding? There was no such thing as negotiating with him. It was more likely he’d make me think I had the illusion of a choice without consequences.
The second I was inside the guest bedroom, I knew sleep wasn’t going to happen. I went into the bathroom, turning the water in the shower to the coldest temperature I could stand. I stripped off my clothes and stood naked underneath the stream.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. The vision of her in the shower, naked, and wanting me to fuck her kept replaying in my mind. The more I thought about it, the harder my dick became.
I wanted her to ache for me, but for some reason, everything turned around and I was aching for her. I started remembering Aspen. Shivering under the frigid water, I jammed my eyes closed, trying to push the thoughts of her out of my mind. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Torn between pissed off and wanting to do everything running through my mind, I started to fist my cock.
Someone came in and wasn’t exactly quiet about it. I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for another one of Victor’s playthings. He wouldn’t give up on his agenda to make me indulge in another woman’s pussy. He sent a new woman to my room every day during my short stay with him. They were the poor man’s imitation of Nikki, or either, closer to my previous type. None of them caught my attention. No one compared.
“Do you need any help with that?” she asked from outside the shower stall.
I slid the shower door back to be faced with a woman wearing nothing but a smile.
The second she saw my half-hardened cock, she staggered. “Aren’t you a big boy?” She licked her lips in an attempt to be seductive. It made my cock wilt.
Brushing my hair back from my forehead with my palm, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, stepping toward her.
She threw her head back, expecting a kiss.
I pressed my hand on her face and shoved her backward. “Whoever the fuck you are, I don’t care. I want you to get the fuck out.”
“Why, baby? I saw what you were doing. Let me help you.” She ran her hands up my arms and pressed her tits against my chest. “You’re shaking. Are you cold? Let me warm you up.” She slid down to her knees and tried to undo my towel.
Twisting her hair around my fist, I snapped her head back. “Clearly, you didn’t hear me…I said, get the fuck out. Last time I’m going to ask nicely. Besides, with that herpes sore on your lip, do you really think I’d let you touch me?”
She gasped and touched her lips. “It’s just a cold sore.”
“Thank you for proving how dumb you are by opening your mouth.” I strode past her and moved to the adjoining bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and thumbed my phone. My hand was unsteady; my thumb hovered over Nikki’s number.
The woman Vic sent up wouldn’t leave. Holding herself, she stood by the door, her eyes darting around the room like she expected someone to kill her.
As I stared at her, she started to plead with me to let her suck my cock.
I just wanted her to shut up. “Tell him you sucked me off, and I’ll corroborate, Now, get out.”
Moving to leave, she opened the door, only to find Victor standing in the doorway.
“Moderately sick, Vic,” I said with a snort. “Didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”
He folded his arms, bringing his brows together. “That goddamn wife of yours is your blind spot. What have I told you, boy? Women should never be a weakness.” He grabbed the woman by her hair and pushed her toward me. “She’s yours. Fuck her, beat her, or kill her. Get out whatever you need to on her. Remove the weakness. We can’t continue our professional relationship until you do. You aren’t yourself right now. That bitch has you. She has you good.”
Finding my footing, my fist balled, ready to lay Victor on his ass for disrespecting my wife.
“That mierda there?” Shaking his head in disappointment, he pointed to my fists. “No good, my boy. No good at all.”
“I’m only going to say this once. I don’t care who you are, or what you are to me. You will not talk about her that way. It’s not your business. It never was. Let it go. I won’t be your bitch. I’m not fucking afraid of you.”
He slowly smiled. “There’s my boy.”
“Fuck off, Vic.” I stormed around and got dressed.
I was ready to finally go home, but he sent a babysitter with me—Pete. And there was no way I’d get rid of him. Vic’s reasoning? He thought I was going to do something vacuous.