FRICTION

Ch. 5: The People v. Eric Dirk

-Eric-

            Feigning composure was far easier said than done, particularly under the stern supervision of a glowering menace. As much as I wanted to seem unaffected by Shawn's presence, I could see my hand lightly shaking as I shifted the mouse across the screen. Why the hell had I decided to offer any more help than necessary?

            I could've been on a bus back home by now, and all of this would already be just a fleeting memory. Instead, I was fidgeting on this ridiculously fancy leather chair, trying to avoid direct eye contact.

            Now, whether it was out of fear or irritation... that, I didn't quite know.

            It didn't help that he kept hovering right behind me, looming within strangling distance; even if his arms were firmly folded across his chest, I couldn't help ducking my head every so often, instinctively trying to protect my neck.

            That uncertainty was only exacerbated when he leaned over and slammed the picture of him and his daughter face down on the table, having caught me glancing at it. I yelped in response, gaping up at him. "Seriously?"

            "Stop getting distracted," Shawn ordered near my ear, and I grumbled wearily in response before shoving him back by the chest.

            "Back off, then," I muttered, glaring up at him as I felt a rough hand tightly wrapping around my wrist, forcing it down. "What now?"

            "You're insufferable."

            "That makes two of us, then."

            Shawn scoffed in annoyance, reluctantly letting go before stepping away and settling on the couch at the opposite side of his office. I spared a few suspicious glances as he busily scrolled through his phone, wondering whether he might leave at some point. I wasn't quite done yet, but he had to have something coming up soon, right? Or was he just getting paid to stand around, trying to intimidate me?

            If I could just work in peace, I'd finish this a lot quicker and bolt before he could decide to end me.

            "Don't you have work to do?" I asked under my breath, wincing when he scoffed in response.

            "I'm checking e-mails, not that it concerns you," Shawn countered, clearly preoccupied enough with whatever he was up to.

            So, yeah, I was slightly preoccupied with my impending demise, which was ironic considering I was the one prolonging my unwelcomed stay in this hellish building. I hadn't known what to expect of a law firm before arriving here, but it was quite literally just another busy, crowded office brimming with the chatter of too many disembodied voices. It was a droning kind of mundane, punctuated with the semi-frequent ringing of a phone.

            Well, at least that meant there were many potential witnesses...

            "You're not allowed to hire a hitman," I mumbled abruptly, jolting when he snorted in response. I narrowed my eyes, noticing he was stifling down a laugh, as if this wasn't a legitimate request for mercy on my part.

            "How could I?"

            "I—I know you're... comfortable," I retorted, worriedly shaking my head. What if he was powerful enough to have me framed for felony? I could face life in prison, and he'd be the one to put me there. Maybe I could get transferred to the prison where my uncle was carrying out his sentence, down in Georgia, and he could watch my back on the inside.