Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Somehow, even from around the corner, I can feel the tone change between them. “Real talk, girl,” Sam says. “Are you….are you okay? After earlier? I did not want to talk about it in front of my dad, because, girl, you know he can be nutty when it comes to some stuff. That’s protective streak of his…”
Now hold the fuck up. I freeze in my tracks. I don’t like the sound of that one bit. If someone hurt her, if someone offended her, I’m gonna fucking…
Jess lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Spill it,” Sam says. “I want to know every-fucking-thing.”
She sighs again. It sounds sad and defeated. All my protective instincts kick in hard like the rest of me. Possession, passion, protection. All of it.
I listen, pressing myself against the wall as she goes on, “I mean, I know that trying out for the first violin puts a great big grubby target on my back. But If I don’t give Dr. Markham what he wants, if I don’t…I guess put out for him…whatever that means.”
Oh hell no.
“…then he’s going to cut me from the orchestra, Sam, and then what am I doing to…he said it’s his word against mine if I say anything.”
She’s still talking, but I’m not hearing anything but the sound of bones breaking and a death rattle from that fucking conductor.
I always hated him. I can read people and his asshole needle has always been in the red with me even though he thinks he hides it well.
He’s threatens her and that means he’s threatening me. And I’ve got the red haze so fucking bad it’s making me want to sink my hand right through the goddamned drywall.
CHAPTER 3
Mike
It’s been a whole week and nothing has changed. I grind my teeth together holding my head in my hands.
One, I can’t stop thinking about her. Not for a second. Not for an instant. She’s the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think of at night. I’ve even stolen a photo of her from Sam’s bulletin board to keep in my bedside table. Her face. Her body. Her eyes. Her scent. It’s locked in and I can’t do a fucking thing to change it.
She’s in my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment. Even though I haven’t seen her for a week, that shows no signs of calming down. If anything, the obsession is getting worse.
And worse. And worse.
Two. My rage and death wish for that fucker Markham is worse than ever. If anything, the more I think about her feeling threatened, the more protective I feel. And the more I want to poke that fucker right in the eye with his goddamned conducting baton. Dickhead.
I might not be able to do a goddamned thing about the lust I feel for her. But as for the red haze, that is something I can fix.
The day after I overheard her talking to Sam, I made a few calls. Moved some money around. Pulled a few strings. Hired a guy to hack into a few emails. And now, as the newly minted top doner to the North Carolina Junior Symphony Orchestra, I’m sitting on the board of directors. And thanks to my generous donations, the board was very happy to hear my thoughts on Markham. HR was very interested in his reputation. And very happy to terminate his contract effective immediately especially when I danged another six-figure donation in front of them.
I’m sitting in the board room right now. I sit on many boards. Work has been my only focus outside of Sam and it’s served me well. My degree in criminal law didn’t take me in the direction I thought I wanted being a cop. That wasn’t the life for a single dad so I found my first job as a marketing rep for a medical supply company.
It sucked balls but I learned in the trenches about business and sales and using every skill to turn people to your side. I took those skills and started my own company. We sold medical supplies to start then, merged with a up and coming medical equipment manufacturer that needed some good marketing and sales representation.
They ended up taking over the market and I sold off my part of that business when Sam was five and bulked up my bank account into the nine figures. From there, I took over other businesses, turned them around and sold them or took shares in trade.
It’s been a ride and I don’t need to worry about money ever again but the thrill of the chase is still there.
And now, on a different sort of board I sit with Markham iacross from me, looking hungover. He’s lost access to his beloved conductorjerrymarkham@ncyso.org email, he’s been removed from the programs, and his picture has been taken down from the “Conductors: Past and Present” display in the hallway outside the practice rooms.