The Three CEOs

pt10. Almost Fired

"It's a lot easier to be angry with someone than it is to tell them you're hurt." - Tom Gates

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Silas's POV

I slam the door in her face.

That annoying, wretched, disgusting, whore-like felon.

I am fuming.

The gears in my brain are going into overdrive as I try my best to calm my emotions but I just- I just can't.

With a few quick steps, I am in front of this godforsaken piano, the music sheet blaring in my face, mocking me.

Without thinking, I grab the paper and crumble it in my hands... but that didn't satisfy me.

I just wanna- I just wanna...

And with one quick movement, I rip the music sheet in half.

And then rip it some more.

And more.

And more.

Until my floor is lightly covered in small pieces of papers.

My breath is coming out harsh as I recall her playing.

God, she plays piano.

Of course she fucking knows how to play the goddamn piano.

Lemme guess. I put a fucking canvas and some paint in front of her, and she's fucking Picasso!

I try to shake off her voice. God, her voice is just ringing in my ear like a never ending alarm clock. That soft spoken, sweet-like voice that makes you want to buy a fucking puppy.

Shaking my head violently, I make my way to my room, changing into a clean, black t-shirt and some basketball shorts.

I need to take my anger out on something.

Walking across the hall, I make a quick left turn and find myself in my own, personal gym. With, I may add, a shit ton of punching bags.

Perfect.

Fitting the gloves snuggly into my hands, I punch. Hard.

I punch and punch and punch until I feel my arms giving out. Until my head begins to throb with the quick and sudden movements.

Until I am able to suppress her voice with every hit I make.

I beat the fucking bag until I realize that I tore a whole in the leather. Beach-colored sand begins pouring out, right onto the ground.

Great. Fucking great.

Taking a deep breath in, I move on to my next victim.

God, why couldn't she just leave the fucking piano alone!?

Punch

And the goddamn music. She just couldn't fucking resist because she's so goddamn annoying!

Punch

Why did Sawyer have to fucking hire her??!

And why are these goddamn punching bags so fucking weak!!??

PUNCH

With a final blow, which also releases a shit ton of sand onto the floor, I finally take a rest, pulling the gloves off of me and taking a sip of water.

I need a drink.

And with that, I hop downstairs to my kitchen. Clutching tequila from my wine rack, I fish through my cabinet and find a shot glass.