Devastated (Anger Management Book 1)

by R. L. Mathewson

  Nodding slowly, and trying not to think about just how exhausted she was, she asked, “Do you have a list?”

  “No,” he said, shrugging and making her wonder if he expected her to read his mind.

  “Would you like me to make a list?” Kylie offered as she shifted the heavy bag in her arms.

  “No.”

  Blinking, she said, “Okay,” really not sure how she was supposed to proceed at this point.

  “There’s no food in the house so I’m going to need you to buy everything,” Hunter said, as though she was supposed to know what “everything” entailed.

  “Is there anything in particular that you wanted?” Kylie asked, deciding not to mention the three bags of food that she’d already picked up from the grocery store since she doubted that he was a yogurt and grape nuts kind of guy.

  Shrugging, and definitely looking bored, he said, “I’m not picky.”

  For some reason, Kylie kind of doubted that, but since she wasn’t the type to argue with her boss, she simply nodded and reminded herself that the faster she got this done, the sooner that she could get some sleep.

  *-*-*-*

  “Oh good, you’re back,” her very large boss said from where he was lounging in the living room with a bottle of water by his side and a game controller in his hand as he focused on some violent video game that he was playing on the flat-screen television that was bigger than her car.

  “Yes, Mr. O’Mallery,” Kylie said, sounding out of breath as she struggled under the weight of the ten grocery bags that she was determined to carry inside because she refused to make a hundred trips to her car.

  “Great,” Hunter said, not really sounding like he cared as he continued to sit there, ignoring her as he battled his way through a horde of flesh-eating zombies.

  “Yup, great,” she mumbled quietly, wincing as the bags in her right hand continued to cut off circulation in her fingers while she slowly made her way to the kitchen.

  She was almost to the kitchen when he asked, “Did you get ice cream?”

  “Yes,” Kylie said, relieved that she’d taken him at his word and picked up everything that she could get her hands on from deodorant to cucumbers, ensuring that she wouldn’t be forced to go out again for a while.

  “Shrimp?” he called out as she pushed the kitchen door open with her back.

  “Yes.”

  The heavy sigh that immediately followed sent a shiver of unease down her spine. “I’m allergic to shrimp,” Hunter announced, and although she wished she’d known that he was allergic to shrimp, it wasn’t the end of the world.

  She could just-

  “Did you get organic honey glazed soy nuts?”

  “No,” Kylie said, swallowing nervously as she hoped against hope that he wasn’t going to make her go back out and buy them, but then again, she should have known better.

  Another sigh. “I’m afraid that I’m going to need you to go back out and get them,” Hunter said, not sounding sorry at all, which again, wasn’t exactly a shock.

  This wasn’t her first job as an assistant or even her first position as a live-in, so she knew exactly what was expected of her and just how little she mattered. If her boss wanted tampons at one in the morning, a tampon-hunting she would go. If they wanted nail polisher remover while she was on a date, not that she’d been on one in years, she was expected to hand her popcorn over, ask her date to tell her how the movie ended later, and rush off to the pharmacy with the hope that it was still open.

  The only difference was just how much of a jerk her boss was, and something told her that Hunter O’Mallery was going to be the biggest jerk of them all.

  *-*-*-*

  “This isn’t my brand, Miss McDonald,” Hunter said with a heavy sigh even though he hadn’t really looked at the package that his new pet was holding.

  Granted, he also didn’t eat soy nuts, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “I see,” Kylie murmured, not bothering to mention that he’d called her by the wrong name, again. It was actually entertaining him to watch her reaction. She didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t need to when her expression said it all.

  Her eyes would narrow, her lips would move ever so slightly while she silently counted to ten as she stood there, clearly struggling against the urge to correct him, which made him wonder why she was still here. He honestly hadn’t thought that she’d survive the first night, but here she was waiting for his next order.

  “What’s the name of the brand that you prefer?” Kylie asked with forced politeness when most women would have thrown the bag of soy nuts at his head and told him to go fuck himself, but not her.

  Kylie simply stood there, clearly resigned to whatever bullshit errand that he gave her. It made him curious to see just how far he could push her before she snapped. He realized that it was incredibly stupid to fuck with the one person who could send him packing to become big Bubba’s bitch, but he just couldn’t help himself. There was just something about that stubborn glint in her eye that made him want to keep pushing her.

  He didn’t answer her, knowing that it was probably going to piss her off to be forced to stand there while he continued to play a video game and that’s exactly why he did it. He had to bite back a smile when he saw her plump little lips started to move again, letting him know that he was getting to her.

  There was really nothing worse than an employee developing false hopes about him or their job. It only ended up destroying them when they realized too late that yes, he really was an asshole, and no, he really didn’t fucking care about anything.

  Your kitten ran away?

  Too fucking bad. Suck it up and get a dog.

  The grandmother who raised you since you were five passed away on your birthday?

  That’s a damn shame, leave the damn tears at home and suck it up, buttercup.

  You caught your wife fucking your best friend and you need some time to get over it?

  That’s what you get for getting married.

  He didn’t care, didn’t want excuses, and didn’t tolerate any bullshit. He expected you to show up on time, do your job, and keep your sob stories to yourself. It was the reason why he’d never bothered with an assistant before because he didn’t want to deal with their bullshit. As long as she showed up on time, did what he asked without question, kept her drama to herself and stayed out of his way, they would get along just fine.

  Chapter 6

  “Oh, my God, please make it stop,” Kylie muttered with a tragic sigh as her cell phone continued to chime.

  She wanted to cry.

  She really did, but crying would require energy that she didn’t have right now. Besides, she was going to need all her energy to drag herself out of bed and see what the horrible man wanted.

  Why did she have to sign those papers?

  Damn Big Daddy and his love of…

  Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been on when he’d burned the apartment building down, but whatever it was she cursed it for putting her in this situation. Even as she struggled to keep her eyes open long enough to sit up on the bare mattress that she’d passed out on a few hours ago, she knew that the fault was hers and hers alone. She’d made a deal with the devil, literally, and now she was paying for it.

  Another chime, this one somehow more persistent than the last, had her whimpering pathetically as she reached for her phone. For a moment, she simply held the phone in her hand, praying that this nightmare would end, but the next chime destroyed her dreams and had her sitting up with a groan.

  Office in twenty minutes.

  Worrying her bottom lip, Kylie glanced from the text, demanding her presence back down to the bare mattress that she never wanted to leave. After a few seconds of indecision, she took a deep breath as she forced herself to climb off the bed and not look back as she made her way to the bathroom, terrified that if she caught even a glimpse of the pillow-top mattress that she would lose this battle.

  But God, did
she want to lose, Kylie thought with something close to a whimper as she managed to drag herself the rest of the way to the bathroom. Once she was inside the large room that was twice the size of her last apartment, she made quick work of using the bathroom, doubling up on tasks whenever possible so that by the time that she stepped inside the large shower stall her teeth had been brushed, her hair combed, her vitamins taken, her nails had been quickly filed down to a smooth, efficient length, her clothes were laid out for her alongside a fresh planner, pen, and notebook to help her stay organized. All that was left was for her do was to step beneath the ice-cold spray of water and choke back a scream or two as the brisk water gave her the shot of adrenaline that she so desperately needed.

  Once she was wide awake and feeling energized, she finished her shower, fixed her hair, got dressed, placed her planner and aforementioned items in her messenger bag and headed for the door, ready to face the day with five minutes to spare. As Kylie hurried down the stairs, she contemplated making a quick trip to the kitchen and grabbing a yogurt and a breakfast bar to get her through this meeting, but something told her that he wouldn’t appreciate the delay.

  Hoping that he wouldn’t make a habit of holding meetings before the sun came up, she paused by the double doors leading into the large office that she’d spent three hours cleaning yesterday, closed her eyes and took a deep breath before pasting a smile on her face, opening her eyes and-

  “You’re late,” Mr. O’Mallery announced as he walked past her.

  Kylie considered pointing out that she still had two minutes left, but then she remembered what happened the last time that she’d corrected one of her bosses and decided to let this one slide. As she followed him into the large room, she resigned herself to the fact that she was most likely going to have to get used to biting her tongue a lot.

  At least, for the next year, Kylie thought as she sat down on the only available option to her, a metal folding chair that was placed directly in front of the only real piece of furniture in the room, a large desk. Hunter walked around the desk, glaring at her the entire way and sat down in a large leather chair that looked a great deal more comfortable than the one she was currently perched on.

  When she realized that he wasn’t going to do anything more than sit there and glare at her, she gave him what she hoped was a pleasant smile, clicked open her pen, and looked at him expectantly as she waited for his orders. He continued to keep her waiting until, with a sigh that could only be described as bored, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and gestured with a nod towards the planner on her lap as he asked, “What the hell is that?”

  Although Kylie didn’t think it was a good idea to take her eyes off him, mostly because of that whole anger management thing that he had going for him, she forced herself to follow his glare.

  “My planner?” Kylie asked, hoping that it was her beloved planner and not her presence responsible for that expression on his face, because she really wasn’t sure that she could beat him to the door. The reminder that she was working for a large, muscular man with an anger problem had her second-guessing her decision to stay.

  Anger. Management, Kylie reminded herself, trying for a bland, yet polite, expression as she waited to see how this was going to play out. When he didn’t jump over the desk and go for her throat, she took that as a win and waited for him to continue. When he just sat there, glaring at her, she tried for a small smile only to quickly bite it back when his eyes narrowed even further.

  For several long minutes, Hunter didn’t say anything. He just sat there, watching her, and making her wonder if they’d accept a personal check for that ten thousand dollars or if she should plan on making a quick run to the bank and get that in cash when he finally spoke.

  “I have thousands of employees, clients, vendors, and contacts that you will be responsible for. That means that you need to have their phone numbers, addresses, email addresses as well as access to their files. So, tell me something, Miss Jenkins, how exactly do you plan on doing all that with a ten-dollar planner from Wal-Mart?”

  “Carefully?” Kylie said before she could stop herself and she really wished that she’d been able to stop herself.

  *-*-*-*

  So, she was a smart ass, Hunter thought as he waited for her to stop staring down at the cheap planner on her lap. As he watched her, he couldn’t help but wonder if that planner was her pride and joy. When she lovingly caressed the imitation leather with her fingertips, he realized that this was the saddest fucking thing that he’d ever seen in his life.

  “Do you need a moment or can we get back to work?” Hunter asked when it looked like she was going to break out a sniffle and reminisce about better days.

  She cleared her throat and looked up. “What would you suggest, Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie asked, slipping back into her minion role.

  “That you join the twenty-first century,” Hunter suggested as he held his hand out.

  When she only sat there, frowning at his hand, he wiggled his fingers in demand. “Your phone.”

  “It’s upstairs,” she answered with that same robotic smile that he was starting to find deeply disturbing.

  “What is it doing upstairs?” Hunter demanded even as he pushed away from his desk and headed towards the stairs.

  “I don’t use my phone while I’m working.”

  “That’s real fucking helpful,” Hunter said evenly, as he took the stairs two at a time.

  “Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie called hesitantly when he reached the landing.

  Since he never made a habit of explaining himself, he ignored her and headed towards her room. In three long strides, he was in her room and heading for the nightstand where he found-

  “What the hell is this?” he asked in confusion as he picked up what he prayed was a joke and looked it over.

  “My phone,” Kylie said, sounding embarrassed as she should be.

  “It’s a flip phone,” Hunter said, turning the ancient relic over in his hands as he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing.

  Could this thing even send texts? he wondered as he flipped the cellphone open to find a tiny screen. This thing had to be fifteen years old, he thought absently, as he started hitting buttons, curious to see what it could do. In a few seconds, he discovered that it wasn’t much. It could make calls, text, receive emails, and surf the web…sort of.

  “Could I have my phone back, please?”

  “No,” Hunter said, fascinated that anyone in this day and age could get by with a phone like this.

  As he searched through her phone, making note that there were only three contacts, a small collection of emails and even fewer texts, he couldn’t help but wonder how much memory something like this had. His calculator probably had more memory than this thing, which would explain why she didn’t have much on it. Then again, he amended a few seconds later, maybe there was a reason for that.

  “Is this your personal phone?” Hunter asked, because he liked to have his suspicions confirmed.

  “It’s my only phone,” Kylie said calmly, but he detected a slight hesitation in her voice, one that was very telling.

  Hunter glanced up from her phone to take in the cheap skirt suit that she wore, noting that while it was obviously clean, it didn’t fit her. He quickly took in the rest of her belongings, two small bags that she’d probably picked up at a thrift store, neatly placed by the door. He didn’t have to look in the bathroom to know that she probably only had the basics, hairbrush, nail clippers, toothpaste, etc.

  In a few minutes, he knew everything that he needed to know about the small woman who was sharing his sentence with him. She was a neat, no-nonsense kind of woman, and most importantly, she was desperate. She wasn’t going to cause him any problems, but just to make sure…

  Hunter looked down at her phone again, noting that the only contacts were the D.A.’s office that hired her on his behalf, a number for a pizza place, and her old landlord. There were no emergency contacts or
anyone listed as “Mom.” That made him curious.

  “Are you an orphan?” he asked, moving onto her emails.

  “No,” Kylie answered after a slight hesitation.

  This was even more depressing than her contact list. Having seen more than enough, he closed the phone and tossed it on the bed. When he looked back down at the cute little thing doing her best not to look embarrassed, he realized something very important.

  She needed him a hell of a lot more than he needed her.

  Chapter 7

  March

  This was absolutely fascinating, Kylie thought while she took a large bite out of the mega-hot dog that she’d picked up for lunch as she scanned through another email that proved that her sex life had definitely been a joke.

  Not that she would describe what she’d had as a normal sex life. She really didn’t think that she could do that when the only person that she’d ever been with hadn’t been interested in having sex with her. Granted, that probably had something to do with the fact that he’d preferred his left hand, porn, and hookers…lots and lots of hookers, to touching her.

  After finding out that last part, she’d been surprisingly okay with the lack of sex. Then again, the same could also be said when she’d discovered that he was using his client’s computers, offices, and bathrooms to feed his porn addiction during the day when he was supposed to be working. She just wished that she’d…

  No more wishes, Kylie reminded herself firmly as she forced her attention back to the sexually explicit email and hit delete. She had six months’ worth of emails to go through and sitting here thinking about the past wasn’t going to help her get this done. With that in mind, she opened the next email titled, “Need a hand,” and immediately deleted the email when it became obvious that another woman was offering her boss a blowjob.