The Deal Taker (Book III)

Chapter Two - Pillow Talk

Chapter Two

Pillow Talk

I STORMED INTO MY ROOM with the kind of rage a bull has when something is being waved in front of it. I didn't want to be near anybody for the rest of the night. It was infuriating how I had made specific conditions about having my own room and all, and then the plans just change because something happened. I'm supposed to have at least three more nights in here, yet I'm only given one.

I pulled off my leather pants and threw them across the room, onto the expensive black heels and jewelry. Buddy raised his head from his bed he only sleeps in when I'm in a bad mood, which has been often. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV with a growl and threw back the covers of the recently made bed, causing several pillows to fly across the room. That's when I noticed a tray sitting on my bedside, waiting for me. My eyes brightened a little, only to become dull and defeated once more when I saw a simple salad and a glass of water on the tray.

Screw it, I'd rather die.

I was tempted to slip out the window and take my motorcycle-something I still have because I put up one hell of a fight for-and take it to the nearest fast-food joint. I wanted something super greasy, salty, and a milkshake that has enough calories for a week. All they've been feeding me here has been healthy, perfectly portioned meals. Occasionally I'd get some comfort food, such as pancakes or turkey with gravy. I think Matthew must have ordered his staff to feed me really well in order to keep me healthy and kicking for as long as humanly possible. Little does he know all of the years of heavy drinking and drugs probably knocked a decade off my life.

My anger began to die down some after my favorite shows began coming on. But the fire burned inside of me right away when my bedroom door opened and Matthew stepped in. I immediately reached over and grabbed a pillow when he closed the door behind him, throwing the thing at him as hard as I could. I would have hit in right in the face, but he dodged the thing effortlessly.

"Get out. I still have one night to myself," I grumbled, snuggling deeper under the covers.

Matthew wasn't fazed by my anger. "You know, when we're married, you won't be able to lock yourself in your room. We're going to actually have to talk things through." He gave me a look of horror before coming closer.

"Until then..." I gripped another pillow.

"I came to talk. I know you're upset..."

"You think? You sprang a whole bunch of stuff on me in there! It's crap how I have no control of anything, including what I eat." To prove my point, I lifted the lid of my tray to display the pile of lettuce.

He seemed surprised by my outburst. "Salads are good for you."

"Not for my attitude. I haven't had a cheese burger in weeks." I let the lid of the tray drop on top of the tray. I knew I was being kind of dramatic here, yet I continued to huff and glare at him.

Matthew gave me this strange, calculative look. "I am sorry for springing everything on you. You've been in here the whole time and I didn't want to upset you any further." He then unbuttoned his suit jacket and slid it off, making me nearly leap out of bed.

"What're you doing?" I demanded harshly, prepared to jump up at any moment.

He bent down and untied his shoes, sliding them off as well. "I don't want to wrinkle my jacket, and shoes on the bed are considered rude." He then crawled into bed next to me, lying flat on his back. "This is literally all that will happen the next few days, in case that's why you're panicking."