Hell by Elena M. Reyes Page B

in here for the first time has the same reaction.” The old fucker was trying hard to hide his own laughter by taking another sip from his cup. “I’m used to—”
    “Look who I found outside in the hallway?” a male voice interrupted. Young, wearing an arrogant smirk, and he was with her. My motherfucking Janelle. Hell on earth.
    With a shitty grin, he stood just inside the doorway, his hand on the small of her back.
    Red.
    A dark red haze overtook my vision and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. This piece of shit had his hands on her while she stood beside him. Fidgeting. Seeming nervous for some reason.
    Seeing how familiar and comfortable he was within her presence didn’t sit well with me, and my hands shook. I dug my fingers into the leather, embedding my fingernails and prayed to God that he calmed me down. That I didn’t fuck this guy up. My knuckles ached from exertion—holding on to the chair was proving difficult as his smile grew.
    “Calm down,” Kevin whispered low beside me. His hand shot out toward my arm—he looked poised to try and stop me just in case. I’d never experienced jealousy before and didn’t appreciate the newfound feelings emerging within me.
    This was her goddamned fault.
    She was ruining me.
    I stood up then and took a step toward her.
    “Everything all right?” the fucker spoke again, this time closer. Not once after the initial entry—the moment I saw his hand on her in such an intimate way—did I spare him a glance. My initial reaction had been enough, and I couldn’t afford to lose my job over something as trivial as feelings.
    “I’m fine.” Even I could hear the undercurrent of anger in my voice. “I’m having muscle spasms in my lower back, and a particularly strong one just hit. Trying to control any sudden movements.”
    “I’ve got some ibuprofen in my purse, Yoshi.” At the sound of her voice, I looked up—angry green eyes meeting amused hazel ones. Janelle knew what she was doing. What buttons she pushed.
    “That’d be great, Janelle.” The grittiness in my timbre made her swallow hard. Her hand shook—she fumbled with the zipper of her bag while retrieving the offered meds.
    A cough to her right pulled my attention away from her beautiful face. Again, the same fuckface stood beside her, yet this time his expression held annoyance.
    Good.
    I hoped he noticed the inferno that raged between her and me. An attraction so strong we lost all composure. Consumed us.
    “And you are?” he asked in a not-so-polite tone, one that she didn’t like. The icy glare she shot his way while she extended the bottle of painkillers out to me almost made me smile.
    Before I could reply, Janelle turned to face him with a dainty hand on her wide hips. “Who he is doesn’t concern you, Glen. And shouldn’t you be leaving…back to work and all that.”
    “Why so protective, Janelle?” cocksucker asked.
    “Back off,” we both snapped, and a insincere smile overtook his face.
    “This is interesting.” Glen took a hold of her hand, pulled it up to his lips, and attempted to kiss it. My arm shot out before he could and pulled hers away, angling her body toward mine in the process. This made him laugh. “And to answer your earlier question, I work for my uncle, and he doesn’t mind me taking a break here or there. Especially, if I’m accompanying a beautiful guest such—”
    “Enough.” Mr. Thurston’s voice rang loud and authoritative as he stood up; his eyes were on mine while he came around his desk. I’d forgotten we were in his office. That he’d been sitting down a few feet away from us.
    “Please excuse my nephew, Janelle. He doesn’t seem to take hints very well.” Still, as he spoke, his eyes remained on mine. As if asking me to be patient…to not beat the little shit’s ass. Beside me, Janelle’s body language became less stiff and she let out a small sigh.
    “He’s harmless, sir,” she spoke through clenched teeth, all the while giving the