Page 7 of Such a Good Girl

He was going topaythis time.

I zeroed in on my target sitting behind his desk near the window, his head bent as he inspected the contents of the case file spread across it. The smell of his cheap cologne smothering the faint odor of bargain-basement priced whiskey and foul sweat told me, without a doubt, that he was working today.

My lip curled into a sneer. I pushed up my sleeves as I approached his desk.

“Hoskins!” I growled.

Harry Hoskins was a colossal prick, I’ve always known this. But the stunt he pulled today proved it yet again. I don’t have proof it was his work but I’d bet my last dollar on it.

He whipped his head around when I called his name, and raised a brow at the items I carried like it was the first time he’d laid eyes on them. He stood up, a smug grin spreading across his pock-marked face.

He whistled and nodded, his eyes lighting up. “Looks like you’re finally letting your hair down, Carson! I love to see it!”

The snickers from the co-workers at surrounding work stations was not lost on me. But I ignored them, my eyes focused on Hoskins.

I stepped up to his desk and dropped the sparkling red G-string and obscenely-sized double-headed black rubber dildo on his desk. The dildo rolled as it landed and began vibrating, bumping around the table and knocking over a cup of coffee that spilled all over the open file.

“Dammit!” Hoskins protested. “Carson, what the fuck?”

“You put this shit in my locker?” I demanded to know. I’d found the items sitting on top of my extra set of clothes, the sequined G-string and lube-slathered dildo right on top of a pair of my good panties that had obviously been pulled out of my bag.

Instead of letting humiliation get the better of me, I latched onto my rage.

“What makes you think it was me? Are you sure those aren’t yours?”

He chuckled arrogantly, looking around at his good ole boy comrades for support. Predictably, they joined in, hooting and hollering like they were at a strip club. Hoskins grabbed the rubber vibrator and brandished it, one of its floppy tips waving in the air as it buzzed.

I resisted the urge to grab it and slap him in the face with it.

Instead, I stepped forward. Toe-to-toe, I glared into his beady black eyes and ignored the taunting I found there.

“You’re a fucking prick,” I growled.

“You wish I was,” he laughed. “Where did you find a vibrator this big anyway, Carson? Do you use this with your lesbian lover? We always suspected, didn’t we fellas?”

My fists balled at my side.

“Oh now we’re adding homophobia on top of blatant sexism? That’s bad, even for you. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing with this shit, but it’s not funny. Try something like this again, and you won’t be laughing.”

“Oh, yeah, Carson? What’s your short little ass going to do?” He moved forward, his nose millimeters from mine. I could smell his rancid coffee breath and almost gagged.

“Want me to show you? Because I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than bloody that ugly fucking face of yours! Let’s go outside, prick.”

A crowd was forming around us now, taunting and laughing. His eyes widened for a moment, as if he were actually contemplating fighting me.

“Are you afraid?” I teased. “Nothing but a little fucking chicken, afraid a woman might kick your —.”

“— Carson! In my office! NOW!” The sound of our Lieutenant’s voice rose over the laughter, breaking through my rage.

The smirk on the asshole’s face made me want to punch him even more, though.

“Looks like you’re in trouble, Carson,” he laughed.

“Fuck off,” I sneered, pushing past him and ignoring the looks all the others were giving me.

As soon as I stepped into the Lieutenant’s office and closed the door behind me, drowning out the lingering laughter, tears began to sting my eyes. I blinked them away before sitting down.

“Was that necessary?” she asked, lifting a stern brow.

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