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As I’m leaving, Stark says, “King’s making a mistake with Hagarty. You need to talk to him about that.”
I turn back to her. “In case you haven’t picked this up yet, no one talks to King, and I’m not about to fucking start. I suggest you sort the shit he’s told you to and make peace with the fact you no longer run this fucking show.”
That ice returns to her eyes. “I’ve watched you for four years now, Ryan, and all I can say is you’re too much like him. It’ll be your downfall, because mark my words, both of you are going down. It may not be soon, but it will happen. I’ll make damn sure of it.”
She’s full of shit.
The only one going down is her, and thank fuck for that. Now Storm can get back to real fucking business.
27
Fury
* * *
Zara: What time will you be over?
Me: Just got home. Will shower and then come over.
Zara: I’m making you dinner. Your vegan-hating self will be happy. I’m adding meat to half of it.
* * *
A knock at my front door interrupts our texting. Not that I plan to dedicate much time to texting her when I can get my ass over there sooner if I just have a shower. I shoot her one more quick text.
* * *
Me: Stop slowing me down.
Zara: Grumpy bum.
* * *
Another knock at the door.
* * *
Zara: It’s okay. I still love you.
* * *
Fuck.
* * *
Zara: Shit, just ignore I said that.
* * *
The knocking grows louder. More insistent.
I’m still staring at the messages Zara sent as I rip the door open and bark, “What?”
I stare at the woman standing on my front porch staring at me.
Why the fuck won’t she leave me alone?
“Hi, Fury.”
