Fire & Brimstone: A Neighbor from Hell (5 page)

Chapter 7

              “Get up,” Lucifer snapped, wondering why he had to repeat himself.

              “Fuck. Off,” Aidan, the laziest fucking bastard in the world, said as he buried his head beneath his pillow in a useless attempt to escape the bright bedroom lights that Lucifer had turned on so that he wouldn’t trip over all the medical books, clothes and empty food wrappers thrown everywhere.

              “Get up,” he said, hating to repeat himself and his brother knew it.

              “No,” Aidan said, reaching blindly for the quilted comforter and yanked it up, over his head to help block out the light and further pissing Lucifer off, because he really didn’t have time to play these games. He was supposed to be going over second quarter taxes tonight, but instead he was here, dealing with this lazy bastard.

              “Are you going to stay in bed all fucking night?” he had to ask, because this was really starting to get fucking old.

              “All fucking night? It’s barely two in the morning, you asshole!” the fucking prima donna of the family snapped, sounding unreasonably pissed.

              “Then you have plenty of time to help me!” he snapped right back as he ripped the comforter off the bastard.

              With a growl, Aidan shoved his pillow aside, turned over and…frowned.

              “Why do you have a woman thrown over your shoulder?” Aidan asked, shooting the temperamental woman that was no longer speaking to Lucifer, as though that were somehow a punishment, a curious look.

              “She’s the favor,” he said, although he felt that it should have been more than obvious.

              “Does the favor have a name?” Aidan asked with a calculating gleam in his eye that Lucifer didn’t really care for.

              “Pain in the ass,” he said, taking perverse satisfaction in the way that Rebecca’s entire body stiffened against his at the insult.

              She wanted to say something, was probably
dying
to tell him to fuck off, but she wouldn’t say anything since she’d promised never to speak to him again after he’d refused to release her. Why she thought that threat would work on him, he would never know. As soon as she’d said it, it had all but guaranteed that he wouldn’t release her until he got to the bottom of all this bullshit.

              “Is Pain in the Ass the favor?” Aidan asked as he sat up.

              “She think she’s a hypochondriac,” he said, biting back a smile when he heard her grumble something angrily.

              “Is she?” Aidan asked with real curiosity.

              Was she?

              Probably.

              At least, that’s what he’d always thought, but something about the way that she’d called herself a hypochondriac tonight hadn’t sat well with him and he couldn’t figure out why. He should have just nodded, congratulated her on finally figuring out what the rest of the world already knew, but that lost expression when she’d said it had him wondering if there was really something going on.

              “No,” he said, surprised to find that he actually believed the little demon.

              If she’d looked even remotely happy when she’d announced that she was a hypochondriac, he would have walked away in a heartbeat, happily washing his hands of her, but she hadn’t done that. She’d looked genuinely miserable when she’d said it and that alone had told him that maybe she hadn’t been faking it.

              Aidan stood up and said around a yawn, “Make an appointment with my office in the morning and we’ll see what we can do,” as he walked past them and headed towards the bathroom, but unfortunately that just wasn’t going to work for him.

              “It is morning,” he pointed out, wondering why his brother was being so difficult about this.

              “Make. An. Appointment,” his normally considerate brother bit out, emphasizing every word and making him wonder why he’d come here instead of going to his father with this.

              Probably because his father would have kicked his ass as soon as he flicked the lights on. God, his family was so fucking trying sometimes, he thought, deciding that he’d just wait until the office opened in the morning and drag her inside.

*-*-*-*

              “Open the fucking door!” the man that had apparently lost his mind in the last twenty-four hours demanded as he continued to pound on their door.

              “Yeah, let me get right on that,” she said, biting back a yawn as she stepped over Mojo, pausing as she did so that she could rub the big lazy dog’s large stomach with her foot for a few seconds.

              The terrifying snores that she’d become used to momentarily stopped so that he could groan in pleasure, but before she was done giving his stomach a good foot rub he was already snoring again. Smiling, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a Coke, needing it desperately after the bastard currently banging on her door and threatening to wring her fucking neck if she didn’t get her ass in gear and get ready to go see his brother in five minutes, had kept her up until four this morning.

              She still couldn’t understand what had possessed the normally sane, and severely assholish, man to drag her off like that. What she’d actually expected when she’d confessed her worst fear was for him to nod, remind her that she was fired and tell her to have a nice life.

              Okay, so the “have a nice life” part was pushing it and she knew it, but she had expected him to wash his hands of her and leave after her grand life-altering announcement. She’d hoped for it at least, but once again life had played a nasty trick on her and decided to make her really screwed up day even more fun by dragging her kicking and screaming out of her apartment just when the movie was getting good.

              “Open the fucking door!” the surprisingly persistent bastard demanded.

              She really thought he would have given up after she’d managed to facilitate her escape by cleverly deceiving him into believing that she was going to be sick. Within seconds she was on her feet and he’d put a good fifteen feet between them. It hadn’t been much of a head start, but it was enough for her to make it to her apartment and slam the door shut just in the nick of time.

              He’d been fast, very fast, but thankfully luck had been on her side for once. She’d made it into her apartment, gasping for air and managed to slide the deadbolt shut before he could shove the door open and drag her back to his apartment where he’d planned on holding her hostage until it was time to leave for an appointment that he had no business making.

              She was done with doctors, tests and all that bullshit. She might be a hypochondriac, but she wasn’t a masochist. There was no way in hell that she would ever willingly put herself through that kind of hell ever again. Twenty-nine years had been more than enough as far as she was concerned.

              “What did you do now?” Melanie demanded, looking exhausted as she stumbled into the large open kitchen.

              Blinking innocently, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

              “Open the fucking door!” Lucifer yelled as Rebecca continued to stand there, looking innocent and pretending that she hadn’t noticed Lucifer’s psychotic break.

              “Why is he banging on our door at eight in the morning?” Melanie asked, really not looking all that concerned or really interested as her attention zeroed in on an unopened box of Pop Tarts sitting on the counter. 

              “Oh, that?” she said with a shrug. “He wants me.”

              Melanie nodded absently as she pulled out a fresh pack of Pop Tarts and headed for the toaster. “That’s nice.”

              “I thought so,” she said in agreement as she grabbed her iPad off the table and headed for the couch, determined to get her mind off of everything for a little while and figure out her next step.

              “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Melanie asked as she sat down next to her on the couch and pulled one of the many blankets that covered the couch onto her lap.

              “Got fired,” Rebecca said as she searched through job listings, wondering if she had what it took to be a bouncer. For fifteen dollars an hour, she was willing to find out.

              “So? That doesn’t explain why you’re not at work,” Melanie pointed out as she grabbed the remote and started her morning ritual of flicking through over two hundred channels until she finally gave up and signed into Netflix.

              “I decided that I needed a change,” she said with a shrug, deciding that it was for the best not to mention her confession to Lucifer last night or the fact that she wanted a fresh start so that she could start over somewhere new where nobody knew her and she could pretend, even if it was just for a little while, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.

              “But, you love the Fire & Brimstone,” Melanie reminded her, which was something that she didn’t need this morning.

              “And I’m sure that I’ll love the next place just as much,” she said with a small smile as she continued to scroll through all the job listings that she wasn’t qualified for.

              “Maybe you could-” Melanie started to suggest, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when the persistent bastard ruined everything by opening his big, fat mouth.

              “You’re going to this fucking Doctor’s appointment!” he shouted, sealing her fate, because if there was one thing that she knew about her best friend it was that Melanie would never give up on her, no matter how much it pissed her off.

Chapter 8

              “Move,” the ungrateful woman said as she glared up at him, probably trying to intimidate him, not that he really cared, because he didn’t.

              “No,” he simply said, reading the texts that his supervisor was sending him and wondering if he should make a quick trip over there to make sure that things were running smoothly.

              He probably would have done that if Rebecca hadn’t already tried to make fifteen escape attempts, selfishly trying to ruin his attempts to solve this medical mystery of hers. Inconsiderate woman, he thought with a sigh as he sent a text back to Adam, the supervisor that was probably more hated than him, letting him know that he wouldn’t be able to get back there for a few hours.

              “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, I really do, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. If I want to leave, then I’m going to leave and it’s none of your business. So, I would really appreciate it if you would move out of my way,” she said, sounding completely rational as she stood there waiting for him to comply. If she had been anyone else, he probably would have reconsidered holding her hostage in this exam room, but this was Rebecca Shaw he was dealing with here and it was for her own good.

             
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, wondering if he should change meat venders.

              “I really am,” she said evenly as she glared up at him.

              “Think again,” he said, deciding that the overall cost wouldn’t justify the switch.

              “Look,” she said, getting in his face, or at least she’d tried to, but since he had a good ten inches on her it was an epic failure on her part, “I don’t like you and you don’t like me. So-”

              “Wait,” Melanie, who’d demanded to tag along and had been surprisingly helpful during Rebecca’s failed escape attempts, said, interrupting her friend’s tirade, “I thought you said that he was in love with you.”

              Cocking a brow, he looked up from his phone, curious to see how she was going to talk her way out of this one only to discover that the furious expression on her face had suddenly turned calculating. His own expression shifted from curious to suspicious when he recognized that look. It was the same look that most of the women who’d foolishly married into his family got right before they fucked over the love of their lives.

              He really didn’t like that look.

              “He is,” she said with a forlorn sigh, looking so damn innocent that he almost bought it, but thankfully he remembered who he was dealing with.

              “I’m not,” he bit out as he glared down at her, wondering if his brother or father had a barrel of holy water lying around the office somewhere that he could borrow.

              With a pitying look that was honestly going to get her killed, she said, “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, Christopher. You’re madly in love with me and I think it’s sweet. Really, I do. I can’t return those feelings, because,” she paused to shrug, “you’re just not my type.”

              He ignored Melanie’s snort of amusement as she visibly struggled not to laugh and glared down at Rebecca. Not her type? Fucking please.

              He knew for a fact that he was definitely her fucking type. She only dated tall, good-looking, muscular men and he more than fit into that category. If anything, she wasn’t
his
type. He wasn’t exactly sure what his type was because he’d really never thought about it, but he knew that it wasn’t a part-time waitress, who annoyed the shit out of him!

              “I’m sure that one day you’ll meet someone that will return those feelings,” she continued, obviously deciding that taunting him into killing her was the best way to get out of this appointment, “but that person just isn’t me.”

              God, how he wished that he could fire her again, but since he couldn’t live out that dream again, he would do the next best thing. He would make sure that the little brat didn’t get out of this doctor’s appointment.

              “Look, why don’t I go sit in the waiting room? That way you can be alone, maybe cry if you need to, hmm? How does that sound?” she asked in the most patronizing tone that he’d ever heard and all he could think was that his family had absolutely nothing on her.

              “You’re evil, you do know that, don’t you?” he said with a dismissive shake of his head as he looked back down at his phone, refusing to get drawn into another one of her bizarre arguments.

              “Yeah,” she said, sighing heavily, “I know, and that’s probably why you’re in love with me.”

              “Uh, huh,” he said absently, refusing to take the bait.

              “He does seem rather taken with you,” Melanie added, sounding helpful, but they both knew that she was only doing it because she was bored and encouraging Rebecca to fuck with his head amused her.

              “I really didn’t mean to lead him on,” Rebecca said, sounding almost sorry.

              God, she was fucking good.

              “It’s really too bad that you’re not willing to lower your standards,” Melanie said, and yeah, he fucking hated her.

              “I know, right?” Rebecca said, making him grind his teeth before he said something that would encourage them.

              Lower her fucking standards?

              That was fucking bullshit, because she’d be lucky to land someone like him. He’d point that out to her, but once again, he refused to say or do anything that would make this worse and he knew from experience that it could always get worse.

              “You could always pretend that he was someone else,” Melanie suggested and yeah, that fucking did it.

              “Sorry, but I’m just not into hypochondriacs,” he said, quickly shooting her wink before he returned his attention once again to his phone, making sure to look bored and really not caring that he’d just crossed a line.

*-*-*-*

              “Did he…did he seriously just call you a hypochondriac?” Melanie asked, sounding absolutely stunned while she stood there, struggling not to smile, because he really was so damn cute when he thought that he could keep up with her.

              Actually, based on that little smug expression that he wasn’t even trying to hide, he thought that he’d just won this match. Wrong. If anything, he’d just made things interesting, which meant that it was time to teach him the rules of this game.

              Unfortunately that would have to wait until another time, because right now she needed to get out of here before they said or did anything to get her hopes up again. She couldn’t do it anymore and wouldn’t. The last time had really been the last time and no matter what Melanie or the gloating bastard wanted, she was done.

              With that in mind, she turned to Melanie. “Could you run down to the car and get my purse?” she asked, taking her best friend by surprise since she was probably expecting Rebecca to go for Lucifer’s balls.

              Frowning, because she’d clearly expected a violent response, she asked, “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

              “Yeah, sure,” she said, brushing it off, because she had better things to focus on at the moment. “My purse?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip as she sent her best friend a hopeful expression she knew Melanie would fall for.

              Sighing heavily, Melanie reached into her bag and pulled out her keys. “He’s an asshole,” she said pointedly, shooting Lucifer a glare as he stepped aside and allowed her to pass.

              Once she was gone and the door was shut, he leaned back against it and for the first time since they’d been ushered into this room, he looked up from his phone. “You didn’t bring a purse,” he reminded her as though this should mean something to her.

              “Well,” she said, glancing around the room, looking for anything that would aide in her escape, “you didn’t exactly give me a chance to grab one. Not with all the manhandling.”

              “What’s that devious little mind of yours up to?” he asked, not looking as though he really cared that he’d just been called an asshole. Then again, he’d been called worse.

              “Escape,” she said, seeing absolutely no point in lying.

              “Don’t you want answers?”

              “I already got my answer,” she said, wishing this place had a window or a backdoor.

              “It was the wrong answer,” he said confidently, which made her chuckle because she knew for a fact that he’d always thought that she was a hypochondriac, or, at the very least, crazy.

              “And what makes you so sure that the answer will be any different than last time?” she asked, giving up on escape and decided to sit on the chair stuck in the corner and wait for the doctor. As soon as he found out that the insurance company wouldn’t cover all the expensive tests that he would want to run and that she was now unemployed, she had a feeling that this appointment would be over in record time.

              “And what if the answer comes back different?” he shot back, like there was even a remote chance of that happening.

              “It won’t. So, there’s no point in being here,” she said impatiently, wondering what the hell was taking the doctor so long.

              “Then what if I said that I would give you your job back if you gave this a chance?” he said, instantly putting her on guard and making her wonder if he was screwing with her, but one look at his face told her everything that she needed to know.

              He had something to prove.

              She should say no, walk away and find a new job and hope that her past didn’t follow her, but Melanie had been right about one thing this morning. She did love the Fire & Brimstone. As much as she hated to admit it, he’d probably offered her the only thing in the world that would make her even consider going through with this hell again.

              Knowing that he probably wouldn’t make this offer again, she nodded and graciously said, “Only if it comes with a raise.”