Bittersweet Expectations (Hate at First Flight #0.5)

7. Gum Money Ultimatum

When I was eight and a half, I got bitten by a savage dog in our neighborhood. My parents and I had gone out for a walk and me, being the hyper kid after eating two scoops of strawberry ice cream decided to run ahead.

The dog was scavenging the dumpster in an alleyway when I came blundering by, giggling my heart out.

A growl alerted me to its presence.

I stopped, a little bit confused at the sound, and turned my head when I spotted him.

A black Rottweiler with the biggest teeth I had ever seen. He was in one word, huge. And his eyes were bloodthirsty and ... evil.

My blood ran cold as the hair on my body stood on end.

I screamed but before I knew it, the huge Rottweiler was on me.

I must've fainted from the shock because the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital, my leg and head hurting severely.

It had taken a huge bite out of my hand and my feet, leaving behind teethmarks.

The one on my hand had healed over time, but the one on my leg hadn't fully recovered.

The fear and icy desperation I felt that day didn't compare to the one I was experiencing as Ethan Clarke stared me down with fury and outrage in his eyes.

He didn't utter a single word as he continued to glare at me from across the room.

The tension in the room was intense. And not in a good way.

"Mr what?" He finally asked. "Hookers?"

I didn't say a word in reply as I concocted escape routes and strategies.

"One," he began a moment later when he noticed I wasn't going to be replying any time in this century, "it's Mr Clarke, Ms Bishop." He takes a step towards me.

I take a step back, paranoid and fearful of his nearness.

He smirks, proving himself a sadist at his joy of my paranoia. "Two, I don't need to pay for sex. Women come to me." Another step forward.

I take a step back but I'm met by the marble wall. Shit!

Delight and rage forms in his eyes. "Three, I was also valedictorian. In New York Prep." Step forward.

"Four, I have a GPA of 4.5." Insert, step forward. Three steps separated us.

"Five, I got a Masters in Business and Engineering." Step forward.

"And lastly, my asshole language, as you put it so bluntly, Ms Bishop, earns me $768 a minute." Step forward.

One step separated us.

"So, Ms Bishop, need I remind you your worth. Having wasted approximately eleven minutes of my time, I calculate that you owe me..." He pauses. "Approximately $8,448."

My eyes widen in amazement both at the amount and his fast calculation skills. "What?"

"Remember what I mentioned yesterday," he asks as he leans in. Heat envelops me and my face redden even more. "Time to make things less than ideal, Ms Bishop."

"What?" I asked as soon as I regained my voice.

"You owe me $8,448, Ms Bishop. And I intend to get every penny out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Pay me back."

"It's not my fault. I was told to deliver the documents."