FRICTION

Ch. 7: Control Her

-Shawn-

I barged into Jacqueline's office and scowled down at her, brimming with indignation. I was seeing red by this point, my hands shaking with unfiltered disdain as I pointed an accusatory finger at her smug face. I tried to breathe, simmer down, but I could feel all the rationale escaping my body in a burst of boiling ire. My skin would melt off at any moment now, leaving nothing but bright, searing rage behind.

There was betrayal... and then there was this.

I impulsively searched the office for the bastard, even if I knew damn well that Jacqueline wasn't careless enough not to account for me storming into her office. Hell, she'd probably planned it all down to the millisecond, which meant all I could do now was seethe helplessly.

By now, the brat was clearly long gone for the day, and the only proof that he was ever here in the first place was the room's unnatural cleanliness.

"How dare you?" I snarled through gritted teeth, still trying to wrap my head around the utter deception.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes in response, glancing up with an unimpressed smirk before signaling towards the seat across from her. "What are you grumbling about this time, old man?"

"You hired him?" I yelled at her while hastily sitting down, not missing the way she narrowed her eyes in displeasure. If there was one thing Jacqueline didn't appreciate, it was being scolded. Unfortunately for her, I didn't give a rat's ass about her feelings for the time being. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Who are you yelling at, huh?" she questioned sharply, pursing her lips. Her gaze was surprisingly intimidating, which was just so goddamn bold of her considering I was the one being wronged.

I released a shaky breath, clenching my jaw in another feeble attempt to calm down. I slowly nodded my head while rubbing at my temple, unable to wrap my head around this choice of hers. I trusted Jacqueline, usually to unprecedented degrees, but this was just... all sorts of messed up. Did she really need me to have a stroke so soon into my thirties?

I could see the confident, knowing expression on her face, a charismatic glimmer that spelled out "just trust me" in all-caps, possessing all the brutish subtlety of a flashing neon sign. But... I simply couldn't. Not this time. Even I had my hard limits; there was no way I could be on board with that brat working here, not if there was even slight possibility that he could pose a threat to my family.

Besides, how did she expect me to focus on work when I'd be spending all my time plotting how to murder him without going to prison?

"You're dead to me," I announced, folding my arms across my chest.

"You better write me a good eulogy, then," Jacqueline retorted while leaning back against her chair, unwilling to compromise. "I have a meeting soon, so I'm going to need you to have this meltdown in 2x speed. Reverb's optional."

"R-reverb?"

Jacqueline let out an impatient exhale, meeting my gaze with a certain determination. "Just trust me on this, okay? I know what I'm doing."

I glowered at her, unsure of what else I could even say. Trying to change her mind was an uphill battle, but I wasn't going to magically accept that bastard. It was clear we both understood the other enough to know there'd be no compromise, so perhaps that was why I was shaking with frustration, brooding down to the very core of my being.

We were at an impasse, and there would be no seeing eye to eye.

She sighed. "Shawn."

"Jacqueline," I muttered in response.