Page 10 of Waves of Fury

“What?” she snarls. “I’m supposed to thank you?”

Bitch.

Tabby Holmes is on the fast track to becoming like the non-meat-eating witch I’d had the pleasure of talking to moments before. I’ll be damned if I let my brother keep dating her.

“Aaron sent me to break up with you. Apparently, he can’t handle when you cry. It’s not him, it’s you.” I flash her an evil grin. “Oh, wait, maybe I fucked up the wording.”

She scoffs at me. “You’re a prick, Ty.”

“Takes one to know one, Tabs. Bye forever.”

I don’t wait to see if she flips me off or not, instead zipping up my bag to keep the sandwich hot and tucking it back under my arm. I pass by the brunette who’s managed to gather her three young boys—all lettuce-eating rabbits apparently—and wonder what it’s like for them. Their mother is a helicopter parent from the sounds of it, but that still has to be better than being a moon maniac like mine were.

As I dart around the people gathering in a messy line to pick their kids up early from daycare, I try to envision a life where we had normal parents who worried over meat consumption rather than every raindrop or storm cloud. Is it really any different for those three boys than it was for us?

My mind takes a dark turn, imagining the brunette losing her head about her mother-in-law handing her kids a cheeseburger and then her carrying out a murder/suicide like with my own parents.

Nope.

Hard to imagine.

My parents still win in the crazy category.

I dart into one of the elevators, mash the button for the top floor, and then slink to the back of the metal cage. Several suits load in after me. One guy eyes my worn-out backpack warily like I’m carrying weapons I plan on using to rob him of his stupid tie that probably costs more than what I’ll make all day. It’s a good thing the tips are so good around here because I have to put up with a lot of condescending stares that grate on my nerves.

The doors open on the sixth floor and an older woman squeezes in, her black Chihuahua hugged to her ample chest.

Yap! Yap-yap-yap-yap!

The dog continues yelling at all of us for even existing. I reach over to pet it and it howls. Cute, annoying, little shit. The woman sees me and scoots away from me, glowering my way.

Whatever.

I sigh heavily and opt for checking my phone for the millionth time since this will be the longest elevator ride ever apparently. My phone shows zero bars. Wonderful. I cram it back into my pocket and glare at the numbers on the panel as we slowly ascend. We lose and gain people several times on our way up. The woman and her dog disappeared several floors ago. Just two more floors to go.

The last of the people on the elevator exit when the doors open and three more people enter. A man, about Aaron’s age, wearing a suit, an older woman with a white-haired bun and yellow cardigan, and a younger, nerdy-looking guy with thick-rimmed glasses wearing suspenders.

“He listens to you better,” the suit says to the woman. “I’m just the complainer.”

She chuckles. “You’re not a complainer. Your job is important and you need quality help. We’ll find you the right person soon.”

The power flickers as the doors close. I consider mashing the button to let me out so I can run the last flight up the stairs but hesitate long enough that we start up.

And then the power flickers again, this time, plummeting us into darkness for several long seconds. I hold my breath, waiting for the power to return. With a weak flicker, it does. Along with it comes the sound of a low buzzing within the elevator.

The suit reaches over and hits the top floor button. Then, over and over, he hits it like persistence will do the trick. Nothing.

“It’s stuck,” he says in exasperation. “What the hell?”

“Maybe give it just a minute,” the woman says, voice unsure.

“We could call for help,” the geek offers.

The suit shoots him a withering glare that has the geek wilting. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Kyle,” the woman admonishes. “I didn’t hear that.”

Kyle flashes her a wolfish grin. “Hear what? You know I’m your favorite, Barb.”

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