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“Fine. Then if I could just have a couple of hours to clear my desk out and clean up any files on my computer.”
“Of course. You have until lunchtime.”
Margie stands from her chair as I approach. “Ah, Ms. Quinn have you seen Mr Hicks yet? He didn’t seem to happy.” She muses in a low voice. She teases me with her smug fucking grin.
Gritting my teeth, I try to smile and ignore her, but I can’t.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you? Just remember, I’m on to you. I know exactly who you are, where you came from, and I know why you’re here,” I whisper. “And when this is over, I’m going to the police and I’m going to lodge an official complaint. I’ll have you out of here quicker than you can say con artist. Do you understand me? You may have my family fooled, but not me. You may have won the battle, Margana, but you won’t win the war.”
My hands shake, so I ball them into fists and rest them on the desk leaning in closer to her. She narrows her eyes at me and her jaw tenses. Using her real name must have really gotten to her. “Oh, and that’s not a threat; it’s a promise.”
With my death stare pointing her way, I walk past her and go into my office to collect my belongings.
Through the glass of the office, I watch as Terry walks past and steps into Margie’s office. A frown pulls at my forehead when I see them talking quietly and every now and then they both turn to look at me. I go around the desk and use my key to open my drawers, taking trinkets and stuff that I’ve collected over the time I’ve been here.
I look over the top of the computer to make sure they’re still busy and email the whole client list, as well as all account information, to my personal email account. I need to find a way of telling Robert Walker it was Margie that sabotaged the account, but I have no idea right now. If I’m going, I’m going out with a bang. And by the time I’m done with Terry Hicks, that bastard will be bankrupt.
Leaving the office for a minute, I go into the storage closet to look for a box to put all my things in. I hear a click that tells me the door has been closed. I turn to open it again and I’m slammed into the shelving. Air leaves my lungs with an oomph and a hand is wraps around my throat. I struggle to swallow as her nails bite into my skin.
“Listen here, bitch. You might think you’re all high and mighty, but I won’t let you take anything from me again. Don’t try me, because I will fucking end you.”
“I’d say you already have everything wouldn’t you?” I force out in a scratchy voice, pushing past the pain in my throat from where she’s gripping me. “Take your hands off me,” I grind out.
“Do you think I’m joking? You know nothing about me.”
I push her away from me and manage to get the door handle in my hand. “I know you’re a fucking psycho.”
I grab the box I came in for and go back to my office. Once everything I pack everything up, I sit down in my chair one last time and look around my office. Spinning around to the wall, I rub my neck, trying to sooth the pain from her tight little fingers.
I need to get out of here. Before I leave, though, I need to see it one last time, my relaxing place. I’ll never be able to go up there again.
Grabbing my cell, I type out a message and send it to both Everett and Ruby: That bitch is psycho!
My cell still in hand, I walk out of the office. Once I’ve made it up all the flights of stairs, I push on the heavy door and wedge it open.
Stepping further out onto the roof, I breathe the air into my lungs. I am so glad to be out of here.
The door bangs again like last time, only this time, it’s shut.
Fear has my stomach dropping to the ground.
When I slowly turn around, my gaze falls on a smiling Margie.
Sixty-Seven
Reagan
I look past Margie and see the door is shut tight.
Great, I’m fucking stuck up here.
“Oh damn, the door shut.” She shrugs. “What are we going to do now?”
She takes slow and steady steps toward me
“Why are you doing this, Margie? You’ve already gotten me fired from the job I love. What more do you want?”
“I want my pound of flesh!”
