Midnight Toxicity

10.

I kicked off my heels, tucking my toes underneath my butt. After extracting a graphic pencil from my bag, I settled in to sketch out an idea I had on my mind.

The silence that fell wasn't as awkward as I first imagined it would be. Ian was always kind of chill, his standard muteness a balm after my shitty morning.

I remember he often sat for hours at his mother's place, just taking in everything going on around him. Sometimes I think he perfected his signature scowl while Jack and I played video games or invented unique ways to make nachos because, unlike Aria, their crack-whore of a mom bought food for her kids before getting loaded for days on end.

I peered over my book a half-hour later to find Ian's leafy orbs already locked on me.

My hair draped over my right shoulder while I bent to the left, curled up on the overstuffed armchair, and his dark stare at the crown of my head did not escape my notice. Tapping my pencil against the art-pad, I waited for him to speak. No way was I offering information first.

"Your money is being delivered tonight," he mumbled, almost reluctantly, "Seventy-five thousand, to be divided."

"You'll get yours," I agreed, smiling at the good news. "Why do you sound antsy? Should I expect a backlash?"

"Not as long as I'm involved," he assuaged my worries before sweeping the contents of the table into a box, shoving it out of sight. "Fuck it. Are you going to explain why your head is bleeding?"

I inwardly cursed. The pain wasn't too bad since I rested, but the gash was worse than I thought if it continued to weep. "Would you tell me if our roles were reversed?"

His eyes widened at my curt response. "What the hell is your problem? Where's the gratitude?"

I shrugged flippantly. "I don't owe you explanations for this transaction to happen."

His sharp jaw flexed, and his long eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks as he glared at me. "Is that so?"

"Why do you even care?"

"You'll stain my chair. What girl spends an hour in the bathroom and doesn't bandage her boo-boo?" He snarled, "Lazy ones, I'm betting."

I stowed my things, ready to explode. We went from zero to one hundred really quickly. My nostrils flared as I jumped to my bare feet, towering over him. He relaxed his position, spreading his legs wide like he was king shit, and no matter where I stood, I would always be beneath him.

"What's that look for, little thief?" he taunted, with that annoying secret amusement in his low tone. "Have something to say?"

"Yeah, I do," I said through clenched teeth. "Stop calling me a thief."

"No," he lazily shook his head. "It's grown on me, and it suits you. What else you got?"

It took a concentrated effort for me to step back and loosen my fists.

He received some sick satisfaction from making me angry, and if this argument occurred any other day, I'd hate fuck him until he roared my name, but enough was enough.

Jack made it clear he would not support any relationship I formed with his half-brother, and after years at his side, I owed it to him to at least see his point of view. Not to touch what I should never have sampled in the first place.

"Okay." I exhaled, plastering a sugary smile on my face. "Here's one. What's with the stockpile of girly crap tucked beneath your sink? No judgment if you've decided you'd rather have a vagina. Your dick is awfully pretty though, so maybe let a few more women ride it before the sex reassignment."