The Boss (A Michael Jackson FanFiction)

The Boss..35..

"What was that?" Michael asks, cautiously, as he places the kitty beside the bunny and the bear on my bed. "Why was Britt here?"

"She came with my father." I mumble, wiping my eyes to keep the tears from showing.

Michael's eyes widen, "She came with Mac?"

"Yeah," I confirm with bitterness. "She came inside because it was "cold in the car, honey"." Michael shakes his head as I continue, wiping my dewy eyes. "It was cold in the car." I mock again. "She wanted to know what was taking him so long... with me... his daughter." I narrow my eyes as I recall the moments prior. "And he just leaves without even---five hours, Michael!" I hold up my hand, emphasizing my five fingers. "Five hours of knowing her and she has him like that. What the hell?"

"I'm sorry, dollface." Michael whispers, coming closer. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," My voice breaks as tears finally escape my eyes. "I'm fin--I'll be--"

The dam breaks and I start sobbing into my hands as Michael sighs. "Awww, babe."

He pulls me into a tight hug and I sob loudly into his chest.

*

"Why in the hell did you come up there?" Malcolm scolds Britt as he gets into the car, slamming the door.

"I told you it was cold out here." Britta answers as she clicks her seat belt into place. She makes a point to stare forward as she adds, "Besides, you said you'd only be a minute, Mac. You took longer than a minute."

Malcolm cocks a brow, staring at her now not so beautiful profile, and slowly enunciates, "Britta, Tamera is my daughter. She's lying in a hospital bed with a damned near severe concussion."

"I know this." Britta sighs, unmoved.

Malcolm's stare turns into a fiery glare, "She was brutally attacked tonight."

"I know that too, Malcolm." Britta says as she stares at a chip on her nails. After a few not too brief moments of silence, Britta looks at Malcolm and shrugs, "What do you want from me?"

Malcolm tilts his head and blinks rapidly. "To be human! Where the hell is your sympathy? My daughter could have died tonight if she had been hit hard enough."

Britta finally turns a look on Malcolm as she smirks, "Look, Mac, I'm sorry your daughter got hit. People get hit all the time. It's not my fault she didn't watch her surroundings."

Malcolm taps into his discernment as he asks. "Britta, did you hit my daughter?"

"Tonight?" Britta chuckles, folding her arms.

"You've hit her other times?" Malcolm's jaw drops.

"Well," Britta shrugs like it's nothing. "we got into a fight about a month back. She hit me and I hit her back."

Malcolm rolls his eyes, "Let me guess it was about Michael?"

Britta turns her eyes on Malcolm again and taunts. "Did your sweet little bunny tell you about us?"

"Some," Malcolm quirks a brow before narrowing his eyes. "but you're gonna tell me the rest. What have you done with him?"

"What I've done with Michael is none of yours nor Tamera's business."

Malcolm snickers, "Michael will tell Tamera because Tamera will ask."

"Oh," Britta folds her arms and scoffs. "because they're dating now? You know, Michael isn't going to treat her any better than he's treated me."