After an hour-long argument with her landlord where she’d begged him to be released from her lease, she’d packed all of her possessions into her car and caught three hours of sleep before the messenger from the DA’s office woke her up bright and early at six this morning with the packet containing the details of her new employer and position. She only had a few minutes to look over the cover sheet before Big Daddy did something that upset the police, again. That was right around the time that she was escorted from the building, interviewed, and sent on her way, which in retrospect was probably a good thing since Big Daddy had set the building on fire and she couldn’t return there even if she wanted to.
She really didn’t want to.
So, now she was starting her new job by crashing a party thrown by her new boss’s kids and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that. She really wasn’t thrilled by the idea of living with teenagers for a year. She didn’t hate kids, but she wasn’t exactly in a rush to go out and have one of her own either. Then again, spending a year under the same roof with a spoiled brat might destroy any aspirations of having a family of her own one day.
After a slight pause, she realized that she was okay with that and continued on, stepping over a puddle of fresh vomit, and through the large cast-iron gates welcoming anyone and everyone. She didn’t date much, didn’t care to, and if this gave her the excuse that she needed to focus on her job then that was more than fine with her, she absently decided, choosing to pretend that she didn’t see the used condom on the ground.
“Watch where you’re going!” a woman with too much makeup, not enough clothing and who was obviously intoxicated, snapped as she stumbled past Kylie.
With a sigh, Kylie continued towards the large two-level brick house, wondering if she was going to end up dealing with the police twice in one day. As she stepped over one of the bodies, hopefully just passed out, lying on the front steps, she couldn’t help but wonder if this job came with hazard pay.
Chapter 2
“My name’s Mandy!” the bleached-blond bimbo said, as he led her through the party that had gotten a little out of control, but not enough to make him care.
“Uh-huh, that’s nice,” Hunter said distractedly and admittedly not really caring as he led her through the living room, noting that his guests had already moved onto the fifth keg.
“This is a really nice house,” Mandy said, as she continued to allow him to lead her towards his bedroom where he planned to enjoy his last afternoon of freedom with an hour of meaningless sex.
“Well, it was,” Hunter said with a shrug as he looked around his new house and saw the damage that his “guests” had caused.
The place was trashed. All the furniture was destroyed, there were holes in every wall, the floors were covered in alcohol, passed out bodies, trash, food, and God only knew what else. He already knew from a quick glance outside that the surrounding property was just as bad if not worse, which was exactly what he wanted.
Either this little stunt would get his neighbors to call the police and bitch enough to make the D.A. release him early, or it would scare them all off so that he wouldn’t have to worry about pain in the ass neighbors bugging him while he was stuck living here. Either option would work for him. Granted, being released from this bullshit sentence would work a hell of a lot better for him, he thought as he stepped over a couple writhing on the floor as they did their best to tear each other’s clothes off.
“Mr. O’Mallery, I presume,” a cute little thing with long wavy caramel hair, the bluest eyes that he’d ever seen, and an outfit better suited for an office than a kegger, said, as she smoothly stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“What do you want?” Hunter demanded, assessing her in five seconds flat and dismissing her just as quickly.
He only had two hours of freedom left and he wasn’t about to waste them on anything cute. The bimbo gazing dumbly around the room was exactly what he needed. He wanted hard, hot, sweaty sex, and that’s exactly what he was going to have. He didn’t do cute, didn’t want cute and he sure as hell didn’t want to waste another second of his precious freedom talking to-
“My name is Kylie Davis. I’m your new assistant,” the cute little thing said with a friendly smile as she held her hand out to him.
He looked from the adorable expression on her face down to her neatly pressed and extremely cheap suit that she was wearing to the hand that she was offering before returning to her face.
“Oh, hell no,” Hunter said, releasing the bimbo’s hand.
“Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie said, her smile slipping as he stalked forward, giving her no choice but to take a step back and bump into some guy staggering by.
“Watch it!” the guy snapped, but the woman in front of him was smart enough to keep her eyes on him.
“You’re early,” Hunter practically snarled as he continued to stalk forward while she did her best to back away from him.
“Only by-” she started to say, but he didn’t give her a chance to finish and waste more of his precious time.
“What are you doing?” Kylie asked, sounding anxious as he reached for her, but this time she didn’t move away fast enough.
Before she could blink, he had her thrown over his shoulder and was heading for the front door. He ignored her demands to be put down until he was standing on the front stoop of the house that he’d been forced to buy. Then, with a small grunt, he released her, placing her on her feet and not really caring if she fell on her ass or not.
“Go away and don’t come back until it’s time,” Hunter said, turning his back on her and already forgetting about her as soon as he slammed the door shut behind him.
“But-” she started to say, but the sound of the door slamming shut effectively cut off whatever she was about to say.
“Now, where was I,” Hunter murmured as he scanned the room for this afternoon’s entertainment. When he found her standing by one of the many makeshift bars that he’d had set up for today’s gathering, he grinned. She was absolutely perfect for what he had planned. He’d barely managed to take a step in her direction when the doorbell chimed, taking his annoyance to a whole new level.
Oh, the little pain in the ass had balls, he’d give her that and a whole hell of a lot more if she didn’t figure out her place and soon. Maybe it was for the best that she found out how things were going to be now, Hunter mused as he turned around and yanked open the front door, more than ready to set the little pain in the ass straight.
“Fuck. Me,” Hunter growled when he spotted the small group waiting for him on his front step. The little pain in the ass was immediately forgotten as he took in the Prosecutor that had fucked him over, Ryan, a woman wearing a black business suit who looked as though she hadn’t been fucked in years, and about five seriously pissed off looking police officers.
“Clear the house,” the Prosecutor, that he was ninety percent sure he’d told to fuck off, said, as he walked into the house, or at least started to before Hunter stepped in his path.
“Not going to happen,” Hunter said, folding his arms over his chest as he glared down at the much smaller man. “I’ve got two hours and I plan on using them.”
“Actually,” Ryan said, drawing his attention away from the man scowling at him, “you don’t. Have two hours, that is.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hunter snapped as he reluctantly stepped back when Ryan gestured for the officers to enter the house.
“Clear the house,” the prick said in a smug tone that dared Hunter to argue.
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan said before the idea of tossing the smug bastard out on his ass had fully played out in his head.
“I have two hours, Ryan,” Hunter said, scowling at his best friend.
“No, you don’t,” Ryan said quietly as he pulled out a piece of paper, the same paper that Hunter had received two weeks ago when he’d been released from jail. “It’s twelve o’clock.”
“That’
s bullshit,” Hunter said, sure that his court orders had stated two o’clock and if he could remember where he’d put the damn thing, he’d rub it in the bastard’s face.
“You need to have this house cleared out and your assistant here in five minutes or they’re going to take you to jail,” Ryan said, starting to look a little nervous as he looked around the open foyer for anything that resembled an assistant.
“She’s around here somewhere,” Hunter said dismissively while he watched with real regret as the bimbo that he’d been planning on losing himself in was escorted out of the house.
“Where is she?” Ryan whispered.
With a sigh, Hunter shoved past the line of partygoers bitching and whining as they were led to the door. He stuck his head outside and when he still didn’t see her, he shrugged. “I told her to come back in two hours. No big deal.”
“Actually, Mr. O’Mallery, it’s a very big deal,” the Prosecutor started to explain, definitely sounding smug, Hunter decided, as he debated whether a year in jail was worth breaking the little prick’s nose.
Probably not, he decided as he settled on sending the little prick a murderous glare instead.
“If she’s not here at exactly twelve o’clock then you’ve failed to meet the conditions of your house arrest,” the smug bastard said with relish, already gesturing to one of the officers to arrest him.
“You can’t be serious,” Hunter said, shooting a glance over at Ryan to find the man reluctantly nodding in agreement.
“Fine,” Hunter said, sighing in aggravation, “I’ll be right back.”
*-*-*-*
“Expiration is…” Kylie mumbled as she searched the Snickers bar that she’d found lodged beneath her seat for an expiration date, “February 2010.”
Worrying her bottom lip with indecision, Kylie contemplated eating the candy bar that was nine years past its expiration and obviously a parting gift from the last person who’d owned this car. She normally wasn’t big on sweets, especially expired ones, but since she hadn’t had a chance to eat anything since lunch yesterday, it was now fair game. She was starving and willing to take a chance on what was most likely going to end up being an adventure later when the candy bar finally settled in her stomach. She’d either end up desperately searching for a pharmacy to get her hands on some antacids or begging a doctor at the emergency room to kill her.
For a moment, she remained kneeling between the back-passenger door and the car as she contemplated the risks. When her stomach released another vicious growl, she decided that a night in the emergency room was well worth the risk. The fact that the candy bar was no longer an attractive light brown, but a hard-white plastic should have changed her mind, but sadly, it didn’t.
Her mouth was practically salivating at the thought of that hard-white plastic-like substance crumbling and crackling on her tongue. She opened her mouth and was just about to take a small bite to savor the questionable treat when she suddenly found herself yanked up off her knees and thrown over a large and somewhat familiar shoulder. It actually concerned her that she’d realized that her precious treat had fallen out of her hands and broken into a hundred tiny pieces on the sidewalk before it registered in her mind that she was once again being manhandled by her new boss. Before she could force her food-starved mind off her ruined meal, he was snapping at her.
“You’re late!” Hunter growled, as he shifted her on his shoulder.
Kylie opened her mouth to point out that she’d actually been five minutes early when he started jogging, taking away her ability to speak as she was forced to clench her teeth together and close her eyes while her empty stomach protested rather violently at being bounced around on the obscenely large shoulder.
“Since we have a minute,” Hunter said, easily jogging and not sounding out of breath as she prayed that she wasn’t about to lose whatever was in her stomach all over her new boss’s back, “why don’t we go over the rules?”
“Can it wait until-” Kylie started to suggest only to get cut off abruptly, which in retrospect was probably a good thing since talking while upside down didn’t agree with her head, or her stomach for that matter, and only increased the likelihood of making a memorable first impression.
“Rule one, show up on time or don’t show up at all. No excuses,” Hunter said, and since she actually agreed with that rule, she didn’t argue. Not that she really could put up much of an argument at that point, but she fully planned on explaining a thing or two to him once he put her down and her world stopped spinning.
“Rule number two, no bitching,” he said, sounding irritated as though she’d already committed the offense and she fully planned on arguing that one later, much later, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut even harder while she prayed that she didn’t pass out.
“Rule number three, I expect things done right the first time. Don’t waste my time and yours with any fuckups. I won’t be happy and I can guarantee that neither will you,” Hunter said right around the time that Kylie decided that perhaps it would be better if she spent the next year living in her car instead of working for a man with a serious anger problem. Just when she’d decided to chance a mortifying moment by telling him just where he could stick his rules, she remembered that lovely contract that she’d been forced to sign this morning before the messenger would hand over the folder.
She could quit, but there had been a dozen clauses about quitting and termination that she hadn’t had a chance to look over yet. It was normally something that would have had her declining an offer and looking for a new job, but she had been a bit preoccupied at the time with the fire quickly spreading and the SWAT team showing up. She’d admit that she hadn’t really given the contract much thought at the time.
Now however, Kylie was wondering what she’d agreed to by working for the jerk carting her around like a sack of potatoes, because she already knew that there was no way that she was going to be able to-
No, she could do this, Kylie told herself before she could talk herself into doing something stupid like quitting because she could handle anything. Well, almost anything, she realized a few seconds later when he took the stairs two at a time.
Chapter 3
“I think I’m going to be sick,” the load that he was carrying over his shoulder groaned softly.
Taking the quiet warning as his cue, Hunter unloaded her by the front door, making sure to drop her next to the Prosecutor. He didn’t bother to make sure that she landed on her feet since he was kind of hoping that she lost it on the smug bastard’s shoes. It was either that or deck the bastard, who was enjoying this a little too much for Hunter’s liking.
Ryan apparently wasn’t on board with his plan. With a roll of his eyes and a muttered curse about him being an asshole, he helped the small woman to the stairs where she sat down on the bottom step and immediately dropped her head between her legs.
Great, he thought, shaking his head in disgust, a fucking lightweight. She probably wouldn’t last a day with him, which meant that he’d be spending the next year living out this bullshit sentence in jail for something that should have been overlooked in the first place.
He was fucked, Hunter thought as the smug prick began rambling on about his sentence, the rules, and all the bullshit that he planned on ignoring. Rubbing the back of his neck, he focused all of his attention on the trembling woman sitting on the stairs. She was short, had some decent curves and appeared to be in her mid-twenties, which meant that she was young, inexperienced and most likely going to run screaming the first time that he lost his temper. He was definitely going to be-
“What the hell did you just say?” Hunter demanded, shifting his attention to the asshole on a power trip, sure that he’d misheard the prick.
“This bracelet allows you a distance of one hundred feet from the device,” the Prosecutor said with that same smug smirk on his face that Hunter would really love to erase.
“Bullshit!” Hunter snapped, taking a step closer to the bastard.
“Hold on!” Ryan said, rushing over and quickly stepping in front of him before he did something that he was ninety-percent sure that he wasn’t going to regret in the morning.
“The Judge’s orders only allow you to have an allowance of one hundred feet from the device that will be located here,” the Prosecutor said, gesturing to the electrical outlet near the front door, “which means that you can go anywhere on your property that you like, just as long as you’re within one hundred feet of the box.”
“My property goes back five hundred feet,” Hunter ground out, taking a step closer to the smug bastard only to get shoved back by Ryan and two officers, who at some point had grabbed his arms. Without a thought, Hunter shook off the officers’ hold but allowed Ryan to push him back, instinctively knowing that his friend was only trying to stop him from doing something monumentally stupid.
“And you’re allowed one hundred feet,” the Prosecutor said, sounding bored as he gestured for the nervous technician kneeling on the tiled floor to hurry up.
He opened his mouth to argue, but Ryan cut him off. “Just let it go, Hunter.”
Struggling to keep a hold on his temper, Hunter did just that until the Prosecutor decided that this was the perfect time to tell him about all the additional rules that he hadn’t been made aware of before.
“You’re not allowed off the property unless it is a medical emergency, a Court date, or for the convention that your attorney stated was vital that you attend and even then, you’ll be confined to the hotel. You-”
Devastated (Anger Management Book 1) Page 2