Page 24 of Chad's Chase
Each time he went to Empty Cage, though, he would stand in his office all night and watch her through the one-way glass like a fucking creep. Watching her dance onstage seriously got him off. He’d never seen anyone wrap themselves around a pole as skillfully as her.
Curved in all the right places, she had the perfect height—leaving him about a head taller—and long, slim waist, her perpetual ponytail hanging down her back, swaying, like a horse’s tail.
Jhay was a dream.
Half an hour before the club closed, he would head out early so he could get home in time to watch her on the cameras he’d planted throughout her apartment. The girl masturbated at least five times a day. And he watched everything—even while she showered.
Yep, he was a creep. A sick fucking voyeur.
Though he wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him. Why she consumed him this much. Doing pathetic things like this wasn’t his MO.
But she was just so…fucking perfect. He was caught up in her. He’d hoped, for twelve long years, to see her again. Wondered how she was. If she was happy. If she ever thought of him—good thoughts, of course; not the ugly ones. For twelve years he’d done a lot of wondering. For twelve years he never stopped caring. Never forgot. Her.
Yeah, he was going to die. This girl would end up killing him because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. Neither would he be able to let himself keep away from her. He probably wanted her more than he wanted to live, and when he wanted something, come hell or high waters, he had to have it.
He just wasn’t sure how to subdue a girl as fatal as Jhay. For the first time in, well, ever, he was at an utter and complete loss.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” he heard JK mutter out loud. “I’ve been sittin’ here for the past fifteen minutes tryin’ for shit to focus on what you’re presenting. But I just can’t take you serious while you’re wearin’ that shirt, dude.”
Kevin Bates’ wimpy assistant stifled a snicker, and Chad reluctantly dragged his gaze from the ceiling. He’d been so zoned out that it felt like he was seeing everyone for the first time that day, because when his eyes landed on Kevin’s shirt, he had to stifle a laugh himself.
The shirt was baby-pink, with a very confusing image of a cat driving the Batmobile that’s being chased by a dog in rollerblades, and that dog was being chased by a horse in high heels.
What the fuck?
Kevin glanced down at his shirt, frowned, then back at JK. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”
Deadpan, JK said, “Just know this, I haven’t heard a single word you’ve said since you came in here. My mind’s been busy tryna figure out the story behind the cat, the dog, the horse in heels and the Batmobile. And it’s fuckin’pink.”
This time, Chad couldn’t hold his laugh in, and it seemed the wimpy kid couldn’t either, because they both burst out laughing, while Kevin scowled.
JK didn’t have even a hint of a smile. The guy’s tolerance level was only yay high. “Look, man, I got places to be. So just run downstairs to the gift shop and buy yourself a new shirt so we can get this meeting over with.”
Still scowling, Kevin slammed down the projector remote on the desk. “You’re a dick,” he shot at JK before storming out the room.
Unoffended, JK looked down the table to the wimpy assistant. “You, go with him and make sure he buys aplainshirt. ‘Cause if he comes back in that coconut and palm tree shit I saw in the display window, I’m done.”
The kid nodded and fled the room.
“You didn’t have to be such an ass,” Chad said, though grinning.
“C’mon, Chad. He’s unprofessional. The guy’s comin’ here to fuckin’ present to us, and that’s the shit he wears?”
“Because he knew I wouldn’t mind. I’ve known him a long time.”
Kevin was a gimmick. He was known for stuff like this. But therein lay the clash, because JK was a no-nonsense, class-A asshole. So Chad predicted there would be some serious bickering going down between these two during the constructing of Red Rhage. And he planned on keeping out of it at all costs.
“Well,Imind,” JK replied. “That shirt was just…wrong. On so many levels.”
Chad couldn’t help the light chuckle that came. “Lighten up, man.”
“You’re tellin’meto lighten up? You’re the one who’s been staring at the ceiling like—”
JK’s words collapsed as his eyes widened in horror, like he was witnessing a horrific plane crash, live and on the scene.
Before Chad could ask his friend what the problem was, JK shot up, his chair knocking back in a noisy tumble as he leaped across the conference table and knocked Chad right off his chair. In that same second, he heard the shattering of glass, and then just above his head, the wall ruptured, tiny pieces of concrete exploding from where the bullet lodged.
Then silence, nothing but their heavy breathing.
