Page 51 of Cocky Jerk

I’m pretending to respond to a man who wants advice on how to ask his ex-wife if she’ll be his booty call. Unless she has a suggestion, I’m not sure how any of that is her business.

“I see you with that guy every morning and I watch you leave with him every night.”

Huh. So she’s crazy. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t smile.

“The guy with all the tattoos,” she clarifies. “The gangbanger.”

Absorbing her slurs, I try to tame the anger pulsing through me. I may hate what my dad’s club stands for, but at the end of the day, the Corrupt Hellraisers are my family. We don’t always like our family, but we fucking defend them to small minded people like Penelope.

Fixing her with a glare, I push out of my chair and stand. Instinctively she takes a step back.

Smart girl.

“You don’t know shit,” I spat.

“I know Marco is a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be played by the likes of you.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not playing him.”

“Then who is the guy?”

“That’s none of your business,” I grind out, pointing a finger in her face. “I might be the new girl here, but understand this, I don’t take kindly to girls getting in my face. Check yourself before you come at me.”

“Or what?”

“Do it and you’ll find out. Now, if you’re done sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, I have work to do. Maybe you can go answer a phone or something.”

“Oh please, don’t pretend you do anything more than play with Post-its and paperclips. You’ve yet to meet Ida. Once she gets a load of you, you’ll be out the door.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Stay away from Marco.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll tell him about your little friend with the teardrop tattoos under his eye.”

Like hell, she will.

Chapter Sixteen

Antonia

To say my altercation withPenelope left me in a bad mood would be an understatement of epic proportions. It’s obvious the girl is attracted to Marco, but to accuse me of things when she doesn’t know my story—that’s just wrong and the very reason I have little tolerance for women. It’s probably why I don’t have a girl tribe or a squad—whatever the trendy name is these days.

The sound of my cell phone ringing jars my thoughts and I peel my eyes away from the emails I’m pretending to work on. Digging into my bag, I pull out my phone and cringe at the sight of my father’s contact info. I slide my thumb across the screen and accept the call.

“Hello?”

“You’ve got five minutes to get your ass down to the garage or I’m coming into your fancy little office and introducing myself to your colleagues.”

“Why hello, Dad,” I sneer. “Sounds like you’re in a great mood.”

“I mean it, Antonia. Five fucking minutes.”

The line goes dead and I glance at the clock. It’s not too early to take my lunch, so I draft Soraya a quick email since she’s on a conference call with Ida and I clock out. Realizing I’m going to have to pass Penelope on my way out the door, I shove my AirPods in my ears and crank up the volume, that way if the witch tries to provoke me I won’t get locked up on an assault charge.

It works like a charm and I’m in the garage with a minute to spare. Not that it does me any good, it’s sixty more seconds of being scolded on how dangerous things are and how reckless I am…yada yada yada.

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