Fire & Brimstone: A Neighbor from Hell (13 page)

Chapter 23

              “Why are you holding that like you’re about to bash my brains in?” he asked with a frown as he stood there with his hand on his zipper.

              “I was actually thinking of bashing in something a little more south depending on how the next few seconds played out,” she said, giving the napkin holder a little shake to emphasize the threat and making him roll his eyes, because this was just fucking pathetic.

              “Keep your mind out of the gutter,” he said with a sigh as he finished pulling his zipper down, turned around and pulled his shirt off over his head to show her the reason why he was in here. Okay, so it was an excuse, but he was out of his element on this one and had to work with what he had.

              There was a heavy pause before she mumbled, “Mojo?” and he could tell by the way that she’d said it that she was wincing. Not that he could blame her, because if he owned a psychotic dog that liked to tackle people to the ground so that he could drop down on top of them with the sole purpose of using them as a mattress, he would probably be wincing, too.

              “Apparently he got out again,” he said dryly as he stood there, trying not to relive the memory of being used like a bitch by a two hundred fifty pound plus dog.

              “I’m really sorry, Lucifer,” she said as he felt her fingertips brush softly over the cuts and bruises the large bastard had left behind.

              One day he was going to turn that dog into a rug…

              But, until that day came, he would use him as a means to get closer to the woman examining every mark her “baby” had left on his body. The cuts and bruises really didn’t bother him, but since they gave him an excuse to talk to her, he decided to use what he had. At least it would give him some time to figure out how to fix the fuck up that he now referred to as this past week so that she wouldn’t go off with some prick bartender.

              “There’s a first aid kit in the break room,” she said, quickly stepping past him and opened the door, but since that really wasn’t going to work for him, he turned around and tried to look appropriately innocent.

              “Oh my God! What the hell did he do to you?” she gasped as she placed her hands over her mouth, staring at the bruises covering his chest and stomach with something close to horror.

              He shrugged, making sure to cringe so that it looked like the movement pained him. “He kept knocking me down,” he said, which was technically true since his asshole cousins and brothers had taken their turns knocking him down during a pickup game of football this past weekend as payback for banning them from the Fire & Brimstone. It hadn’t mattered if he had the ball or was even on their fucking team.

              Assholes.

              He really hated those bastards, he thought with a sigh even as he was forced to bite back a smile at the memory of knocking each and every one of those assholes down until they’d screamed for their wives and mothers to make him stop.

              “These look like they really hurt,” she said, worrying her bottom lip as she took in one horrible bruise after another.

              “They really do,” he lied, hoping that she didn’t notice that the bruises on his chest were a few days old since that would just wreck everything.

              Still worrying that full bottom lip of hers that he’d imagined sliding up and down his shaft over the past week, she said, “Maybe we should put some ice on it?”

              Ice was good. Ice meant avoiding the break room and all the nosy bastards that worked for him. It was probably for the best if he wanted to fix his fuckup. Deciding that it was best that he move on this before she changed her mind, he nodded, grabbed her hand, threw the door open and headed for the security door.

              “Again with the manhandling?” she asked, sighing heavily, but she didn’t pull her hand away or suggest that they just grab some ice from the machine and do this downstairs.

              As long as he got her upstairs where they could be alone, he was happy. While she tended to all the marks on his body he could figure out a way to get her to forgive him for being an asshole. It was a long shot, but at the moment it was all he had.

              In less than sixty seconds he had her upstairs, in his apartment and the door securely closed and locked behind them. Thankfully he didn’t have to convince her to stay and tend to him since he’d already played out the Mojo bullshit to make her feel guilty enough to do it on her own. Yes, it was a fucked up thing to do and no, he really didn’t fucking care as long as it got him what he wanted.

              Rebecca back in his arms where she belonged.

*-*-*-*

              “You want to tell me what really happened?” she asked while she filled a large Ziploc bag with ice from the ice dispenser in his kitchen.

              “Your vicious, psychotic dog beat the shit out of me, stole my wallet and then went on a joyride to Vegas where he married a slutty poodle named Fluffy,” he said dryly, making her chuckle as she pressed the bag closed.

              “I see,” she murmured thoughtfully as she walked back into the section of the large open room that he’d set up as his living room and tossed the bag of ice to him.

              “He’s a cruel, fat bastard,” he said with a wink as he easily caught the bag and placed it on his chest, reminding her that under that asshole exterior that he showed the world that he was actually charming.

              When he wanted to be, and apparently right now, he wanted to be.

              “That he is,” she murmured in agreement as she walked over to the leather chair across from him and sat down. “So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

              “Your dog viciously attacking me isn’t enough?” he asked with a wince as he shifted the ice pack to a particularly nasty looking bruise.

              Frowning, she nodded towards the bruises covering his chest. “What really happened?”

              “Family gathering,” was all he said, but there was a look in his eye that told her that he’d gave as good as he got, maybe even better.

              “So, why the pretense to get me up here?” she asked, in absolutely no mood to play anymore of these games with him.

              The women that he’d dated in the past might have been okay with this hot/cold treatment that he seemed to be dishing out to her, but she wasn’t. If a man wanted to be with her then she expected him to act like it, not ignore her unless he wanted something from her. The moment that he’d decided to act like she didn’t exist was the moment that he’d lost whatever chance he might have had with her.

              He watched her for a moment before he closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the couch. “I fucked this up, didn’t I?”

              “Big time,” she readily agreed.

              “I’m a fucking idiot,” he said and she honestly couldn’t agree more.

              “You said it, not me,” she said, getting to her feet and headed for the door, deciding that it would be for the best if they just let whatever this thing was between them die a quick, merciful death. “I have to get back to work,” she said, walking towards the door.

              “Before you go, could you do me a favor? Could I have a Coke?” he asked and even though she wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove that Coke, she couldn’t forget what he’d done for her.

              “Sure,” she said with a sigh as she headed right back into that meticulously organized kitchen, wondering why he was bothering with her now. He knew better. At least, she thought he did, but then again-

              “What the hell?” she mumbled as she opened the refrigerator door and realized that he might have a small problem with OCD, but also that he’d marked more than half the items in the refrigerator with a “Gluten Free,” label. Frowning, she shut the refrigerator door and opened the cabinet door closest to her and found the same thing had been done for all the dry goods.

              Why would he do something like this?

              “I wanted to make sure that you had something to eat when you were here,” he explained as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I fucked up and I’m sorry, Rebecca. The Fire & Brimstone has been my life for as long as I can remember. It’s always come first in my life and the fact that you make me want to forget that scares the hell out of me,” he whispered, holding her tightly as though he never wanted to let her go.

              Closing her eyes and telling herself that this was probably the biggest mistake of her life, she placed her hand over the arm that held her tightly and took the biggest risk of her life.

              “Don’t screw this up,” she said, knowing that next time it would be more than her pride that took a hit.

Chapter 24

              “Are you on the verge of having a panic attack?” Rebecca asked teasingly as they stood in line, waiting to purchase snacks before they went into the theatre to watch the latest horror flick to appease her disturbing obsession with paranormal movies.

              “No,” he said, still surprised that he hadn’t tried to sneak off so that he could check his email or called the restaurant to make sure that everything was running smoothly.

              He’d never gone this long before without checking in to see how things were going back at the Fire & Brimstone, but then again, he’d never been out with a woman like Rebecca, who would happily drop kick him in the balls if he so much as touched his phone. At least, he was assuming that she would since she hadn’t actually said anything about it yet.

              He was basing this assumption on the fact that he’d seriously fucked up and needed to be on his best behavior and that meant no touching his phone when he was out with her. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t seem to feel the same way since she was currently checking her phone for the tenth time since they’d arrived.

              He was starting to see how people found this annoying. It was also really fucking insulting! Here he was, dotting on her and she was on the phone as though his company wasn’t good enough.

              What. The. Fuck?

              It didn’t matter that he’d done the same thing during every date that he’d been on since the invention of the smartphone. It was fucking rude and-

              “Patrick says that everything is running smoothly. I also checked on the orders you placed this morning and they should be delivered tomorrow morning,” she said with a mischievous little smile as she slipped her phone back into her bag.

              “You checked for me?” he asked, smiling as she wrapped her arm around his and leaned into him.

              “Couldn’t have you crying,” she said as she slipped her hand into his.

              “We wouldn’t want that,” he agreed as he entwined their hands together and stepped up in line to buy snacks for the movie.

              Normally he would buy one of everything, but he couldn’t do that with Rebecca since she couldn’t have most of the stuff that they had here. He didn’t feel right about eating something that she couldn’t have in front of her. So, already knowing that he couldn’t have his customary triple order of his beloved nachos, he took out his phone and checked with the gluten free app that he’d found to see what she could have.

              Just as he’d suspected, there was really nothing here that she could have. He was going to starve to death, he realized, trying not to panic, because he honestly couldn’t imagine going two whole hours without eating something. Maybe he could sneak out to use the bathroom and scarf down a few nachos and a hot dog without her knowing, he thought even as he realized that he couldn’t do that to her.

              “What are you getting?” she asked as she looked at the selection before them, no doubt already realizing that she couldn’t have anything here.

              “Nothing. I’m good,” he said, wondering why she was looking up at him with a frown.

              “Yeah…,” she said, not really sounding like she believed him, which was actually really fucking insulting. “Sure you are.”

              “I’m fine,” he lied, wishing that he’d grabbed something before they’d left, but he’d been in such a hurry to get his paperwork done so that they wouldn’t miss the movie that he’d forgot to have customary pre-date snack.

              Shaking her head and mumbling something that he couldn’t quite catch, she returned her attention to the cashier waiting on them and with a smile, said, “We’ll take one of everything and could we please have two Cokes? One extra large and a small, please?”

              “Sure,” the cashier said, throwing him a nervous look, no doubt well acquainted with a few of the other Bradfords in town.

              “You didn’t have to do that,” he said as he pulled out his wallet, praying that she didn’t listen to him and cancel the order, because honestly, he was fucking starving and wasn’t sure that he’d survive the next two hours without food.

              “And risk you passing out on me during the best part of the movie?” she asked with a smile that told him everything that he needed to know.

              He couldn’t risk fucking this up again and losing a woman like her.

*-*-*-*

              “Are you sure that’s going to be enough?” he asked as she settled the big tub of extra buttered popcorn on her lap.

              “More than enough,” she promised him, still wishing that they’d at least had some plain M&M’s, but this was better than nothing.

              As soon as she’d spotted the snack selection on display she’d realized that her days of enjoying high calorie/high fat snacks at the movie theater was over. That is until the manager overheard Lucifer mention that she couldn’t have gluten and he’d suggested the popcorn. The popcorn was safe to eat so at least she had something to snack on while she watched bimbos get torn apart by zombies.

              It really was the little things in life, she thought with a wistful smile as she nibbled on some semi-warm super buttery popcorn. While Lucifer systematically devoured every last morsel of junk food that she’d ordered for him, they sat there in silence as they watched all the previews. It was the first time that she’d ever been out with a man that she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

              It was actually really nice to be able to sit here and not worry about that horrible awkward silence setting in. She hated that, but it always seemed to happen. That didn’t seem to be the case with Lucifer.

              She was actually enjoying herself, she realized as she popped another small handful of popcorn in her mouth. A few bites later she was regretting only getting a small Coke to wash away the taste. For a second, she considered stealing Lucifer’s soda, but she didn’t want to risk cross contamination or losing her hand since he did have a really unhealthy obsession with his food that occasionally turned violent.

              She wondered if that was hereditary as she ate more popcorn and finished off her Coke, which lead to other questions about his diet. How much food did he actually consume in a day? What was his food bill like? God, she’d probably die of a heart attack if she ever found out. She…

              Oh, no.

              “Are you okay?” Lucifer asked as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying her best to ignore the violent cramping tearing through her stomach.

              “Yes,” she lied through her teeth, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she sat back and folded her arms over her stomach, hoping that he didn’t notice the move.

              He looked at her for a few more seconds before he reluctantly returned his attention to the big screen, but she wasn’t fooled. She could tell that he was keeping an eye on her.

              When that position didn’t help, she shifted a little bit to the right and winced when that made it worse. She tried telling herself that this wasn’t from gluten, but she was all-too familiar with the cramping and nausea surging through her body.

              As discretely as possible, she pulled out her phone and Googled, “movie theatre popcorn,” hoping that her hunch was wrong. It wasn’t. Apparently regular popcorn cooked in real butter, air popped or in oil was safe, but movie theatre “butter topping,” wasn’t. It not only didn’t contain real butter, but bleached flour was one of the first ingredients, which explained quite a bit at the moment.

              “What’s going on?” Lucifer whispered, leaning in close to her as she sat there, trying to ignore how badly her stomach hurt and the way that the movie theatre suddenly felt like it was a hundred degrees hotter than it had been only a few minutes ago.

              “Nothing,” she whispered back, telling herself that she could make it through this move.

              Apparently, she was a lying bitch, because she’d barely lasted five more minutes before she was slapping a hand over her mouth and running for the bathroom, ruining their first, and probably only, date in a matter of seconds.