Page 16 of Break Out

“What? I didn’t—”

I whirled on her. “You fucked with my wallet. I’d kill a man for less. Count your fucking blessings, bitch.”

“Let’s go,” Torque ordered, grabbing her arm.

I stormed to my room, yanked open my nightstand drawer and threw the box of condoms against the wall.

A primal yell tore out of me and I shoved my fingers into my hair.

That action reminded me of Simone’s nails dragging along my scalp not even twenty-four hours ago.

“Goddamnit,” I whispered.

Someone had the balls to knock on my door.

“Go away!” I yelled.

“Not happening, brother. Let me in,” Torque demanded.

“Come in and make it quick, motherfucker,” I hollered.

He came inside, shut the door, and eyed the box of condoms on the floor. His lips pursed and he kicked the box toward the en suite bathroom.

“Guess you won’t need those any more. I’ll get a prospect to take out your trash.”

I paced the room, my hands still in my hair.

Torque wasn’t known for being patient. “Jesus, man. She got to your wallet, fucked with your rubbers. You went to visit Jordan, not get laid. But you’re acting like you went to a fuckin’ orgy bare or some shit.”

In two strides, I grabbed Torque by the throat and had him up against my door. “You think I want to be trapped by another fuckin’ woman? You think I want to bring another kid into the world without knowing a bitch planned on that?”

“No, man. I get that,” he rasped out.

I stared at him a long moment and finally let him go. I hated that I’d harmed Simone. My anger wasn’t dissipating. I paced to the other side of the room.

“What the hell happened in Gainesville? Did you talk to Jordan?”

I scoffed. “No. My fucking shit timing… I went to his apartment, a woman across the hall told me he’d moved out, get this, that fuckin’ day.”

He shook his head. “Your timing sucks, man. But, what’s got you so pissed? I’m guessing you got laid.”

Just thinking about my time with Simone calmed me down, a little. “Yeah. It’s a long fuckin’ story, man. You seemed to be on your way somewhere. I’ll… figure shit out.”

Torque scoffed. “Screw that, Steel. I’ll go get a bottle of Jack—”

“No,” I snapped, my eyes boring into him.

His head reared back. “Christ. You always drink whiskey, man. What the fuck is up with you?”

I closed my eyes and exhaled. How had she gotten so up in my head? I couldn’t drink Jack Daniel’s without thinking of her, I couldn’t stand that I might have impregnated her and she didn’t even know it yet.

I opened my eyes. “Bring some beers. I can’t afford to get shitfaced tonight, no matter how much I want that.”

Torque came back with a bucket of beers on ice and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue label.

My vice president poured two shots, slid one to me and we downed them without preamble… or fucking toasts.

Christ, every damned thing reminded me of her.

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