Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The devil boss:

Where are you?

F or someone who doesn’t like me, he sure does message me a lot. Although, I guess, he does seem to like parts of me—parts of my anatomy anyway.

Well, I’m not his booty call tonight. It’s Saturday and I’m letting my hair down and having a girl’s night with Lucy. I haven’t been able to get out of her what’s triggering her desire to get white girl wasted. But I’m sure, after a few drinks, she’ll start talking like she’s sprawled out on her therapist’s couch.

“Here’s to bad decisions that lead to good times,” Lucy screams over the pumping music as she holds up her vodka soda.

Clinking my glass with hers, I pull her into a hug. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around, LuLu. You always come up with the best ideas.” I laugh.

We’re on drink number four—or is it five? It doesn’t matter. I just know that she’s about to start talking. As if on cue, she grabs my hand and drags me to a sectional lounge. We both fall onto the seat, holding our cups in the air while attempting to not spill the contents. I end up with vodka running down my arm.

“You know what I hate about men?” Lucy slurs.

“They stink?” I ask.

“No, Dominic McKinley, that is what I hate about men,” she says.

“Really? What is it that you hate about him?”

“Everything, his perfect face, those perfect pecs, and the drawings up his arms that I want to lick. Argh, he’s so awful, Shar. Like seriously the worst human ever,” she says.

“Sounds like he’s a dream. Maybe give him my number.” I lift my eyebrows up and down, and she frowns at me.

“He’s also a stalker, like an obsessed psychopath.” She sighs.

“Wait… what do you mean? Are you scared that he’ll do something to you, Lucy? Because we can get a restraining order or something.”

“What? No, he’d never hurt me. He just wants to consume me.” She laughs.

“Well, gee, that’s reassuring.” I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not. I know Lucy though. If she thought she was in danger, she would tell me.

“We need more drinks. And more dancing,” she announces suddenly, standing and gesturing for me to follow her.

An hour and four drinks later, we’re stumbling out of the club. Arm in arm, we walk down the sidewalk, attempting to hold each other up.

“Tim should be just up here,” Lucy says, pointing in front of us. Tim is her driver. It’s bougie as fuck to have a personal driver. Although, on nights like tonight, I don’t mind the luxury. Climbing—or more like falling—into the back seat, we slide over. It takes us longer than it should to buckle our seat belts. We eventually get them on though.

“Where to, Miss Lucy?” Tim asks from the driver’s seat. He’s an older man with greying hair, always so polite.

“Linlithgow Road, Toorak,” Lucy answers with a smirk.

“Wait, that’s not your address, LuLu.” I laugh, thinking she’s had too much to drink.

“I know. We’re going on a little McKinley adventure,” she says, her eyebrows jumping with the implication.

“Oh god, you’re going to get me killed or locked up, aren’t you?” I sigh and lean my head against the seat.

“Don’t worry, your boyfriend will bail you out if you get arrested.”

“Not my boyfriend,” I grumble.

“Not yet.”

It only takes ten minutes to get from Chapel Street to wherever it is we are now. I should question Lucy more, ask her what it is she’s planning. But before I can, we’re out of the car and she’s telling Tim to go home for the night.

“Ah, what? Lucy, where are we?” I laugh as I stumble along the footpath.

“We’re going to break into Dominic’s house and mess with his shit. Like move stuff around. The guy is the walking definition of obsessive-compulsive. It’ll piss him right off.” She grins like it’s the best idea ever.

“Oh, yeah, let’s piss off your psychopath then, because that’ll end well.” I roll my eyes at her, yet still find myself following her to a large black iron fence. It’s dark so I can’t see much beyond it, other than the driveway that’s illuminated along each of its sides. Lucy enters a code and the gates swing open. “How do you know his code?” I ask with suspicion. She’s clearly been here before.

“Lucky guess.” She shrugs. “Come on.”

“Wait.” I pull on her arm, “What if he’s here? Or, shit, he has to have cameras everywhere.”

“Oh, well, let him watch.” She smirks and then continues to stumble to her destination.

I catch up and quickly link my arm in hers. Lucy strolls straight to the front door, which is unlocked oddly enough, and walks right in. We end up in what looks like a library; it’s stacked full of books. I wait for her by the door as she starts moving books around, placing them on various shelves. I’m not sure why she thinks this is as funny as she does, but she’s laughing uncontrollably.

A few moments later, I find myself standing in a closet—no, this isn’t a closet. It’s a men’s high-fashion department store inside a house.

“Help me mix up these shirts,” Lucy says as she removes a jacket from its colour-coordinated hanging space and shifts it down several spots.

“I can’t believe this is what we’re doing on a Saturday night.” I giggle as I blindly help her fumble around the wardrobe. Ten minutes later, Lucy takes me to a bar area in the downstairs living room. She really does know her way around this place. We’re halfway through a bottle of vodka when we hear footsteps. “Shit.” I freeze as two large figures step into the doorway.

“Don’t move,” one voice says.

“Ah, Lucy?” I question as the two police officers make their way towards us.

“You’re under arrest for breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…” The officer continues his speech as my arms are pulled behind my back and handcuffs are snapped over my wrists.

“Don’t say anything, Shar. You’ll be fine.” Lucy’s words offer me little comfort right now.

We’re taken to the police station and placed in separate rooms. I knew I was alone in this world, but it didn’t dawn on me until the moment I was offered my one phone call. I declined, because who was I going to call? Lucy’s already here. I don’t have anyone else to bail me out of trouble. And, honestly, I’m just really drunk. The police officer talking to me has two heads. Whatever kind of vodka Dominic stocks is strong, and the rest of the night is catching up with me.

“Shardonnay, do not say a fucking word.” The harsh tone has my head snapping to the door. “My client has nothing to say. The owner of the property is not pressing charges and the fact that you haven’t already released her is negligence on your part.”

Xavier walks into the room. Grabbing me out of the chair, he glances down at my wrists.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Was this really necessary? Uncuff her now,” Xavier growls to the police officer, who stumbles to get the keys into the locking mechanism. “Let’s go,” Xavier grunts, dragging me out of the room and through the station.

I trip and stumble, attempting to keep up with him, but somehow manage to match his stride. When we get to the front of the building, I see Lucy arguing with Dominic.

“Lucy, Tim’s here to take you home,” Xavier says.

“Thank god.” She turns to me. “Are you okay? Want to stay at mine tonight?”

I’m about to say yes to both her questions when Xavier answers for me. “No, she doesn’t.” He turns to Dominic. “Whatever damage they caused, I’ll pay for it. Send me an itemised invoice.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Dominic answers, before spinning on his heel and stalking down the sidewalk.

I feel myself being placed on a bed, a soft bed. Opening my eyes, I’m greeted by a very pissed off looking Xavier. “Even when you’re angry, you’re pretty,” I tell him.

“And you’re fucking wasted and stink like a damn brewery,” he grunts.

“Well then… you’re still pretty. Wanna do that sex thing you do?” I ask as I push myself upright. Wiggling my dress up my hips, I pull it over my head. I’m left in just a black lace G-string.

“Hard pass, babe. You’re way too fucking drunk.”

“And horny.” I laugh. “Please, Xavier, no one does sex better than you,” I beg him.

He smirks momentarily before shaking his head. Leaning his body over mine, he lowers his mouth to my ear. “You should have fucking called me,” he growls before pushing off the bed again.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you call me? Lucy called me. You didn’t.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My head is whirling. My eyes try to focus on him but everything is spinning.

“You had one phone call. You could have called me. They told me you refused to call anyone. Why?”

“Oh god, I’m going to be…” I dash from the bed, a hand covering my mouth.