Possessive Best Friend

“It was never yours.”

“You piece of shit.” Anger rips through me. I step toward him, rage shivering down my arms. “You pathetic piece of shit. You’re so hateful and so jealous of the Lofthouse family that you’ll take this away from me just because you can. You motherfucker.”

“Careful,” he says, eyes narrowing.

“No, fuck you,” I say. “I’m sick of this. I can already see my future working for you, Dad, and it’s looking pretty fucking bleak.”

“Dean. You should stop before you say something you regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this.” I stare him down. “I quit.”

Nobody speaks for ten seconds. I stand there, breathing hard, trying to keep my cool. I don’t want to hit my dad, but goddamn, he really deserves it.

Finally, he nods his head. “Okay then,” he says. “Go ahead and quit. But when you come running back to me, I’m starting you at the bottom again until you can earn your position all over.”

“That won’t happen,” I say and turn away.

Dad snorts. “It will. This bitch will leave you high and dry soon enough, and then you’ll—”

I turn and deck him. I smash my fist into his nose and send him sprawling.

“Don’t you ever call her a bitch,” I growl, anger rippling through me.

My father grabs his nose and groans. Blood pours between his fingers.

I didn’t want to do that. I planned on walking away. But when he called Lora that nasty name, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop it.

Nobody talks to her that way. Fucking nobody.

“You just made a huge mistake,” he said, his voice nasal and whiny.

I turn away and walk off. I get the fuck out of there before I do something even worse. Lora hurries after me, horror in her expression. I walk back to my truck, shaking with rage, then turn on her.

“Dean, you—”

I grab her and pull her against me. She looks surprised, but melts into my kiss.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago,” I say softly in her ear.

“Which part?” she asks, a little smile on her lips. “Quitting? Or hitting him?”

“Quitting,” I say and look away. “I shouldn’t have hit him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. He’s a fucking dick when it comes to you. I don’t know why.”

“Still, I feel like I just came between you two.”

I shake my head, holding her tight. “He came between us,” I say. “He didn’t need to act like that. Didn’t need to punish me just for spending time with you. And the fact is, he’s going to keep trying to get one over on me, keep trying to punish me and treat me like a child if I let him.”

“That’s why you quit?”

“That, and it’s just time to move on.” I shake my head. “Can’t stay there forever. He’d never going to step down. Not while he’s still alive. It’s time to do something for myself.”

She grins at me. “Well… I know someone hiring. The pay is zero dollars though.”

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Sounds great. Sign me up.”

“I’m serious though. Do you… want to come work with me? I can’t pay you yet, but—”

I kiss her again, and I hope that’s all the answer she needs.13LoraDean comes with me at eight the next morning to Richard Chirad’s office in downtown Loftville.

He’s an older gentleman with a large bushy mustache and an easy smile. He smiles and shakes our hands as we step into his office. “Well, Lora, what can I do for you?” he asks.

“Richard, I was hoping you could draw up a contract for the purchase of the old empty warehouse on Spruce.”

He blinks, clearly surprised. “Excuse me?”

“I plan on purchasing it from my Uncle Ron,” I say. “And I need a contract drawn up.”

He looks from me over to Dean, who doesn’t say anything. He huffs and shakes his head. “This is, ah, are you sure? Last I checked, it wasn’t for sale.”

“We’re making an offer,” I say, “of $1.6 million.”

His eyes bug out. “Excuse me?”

“One point six million,” I repeat. “If you could draw up the papers, that would be wonderful.”

“Well, yes, ah, of course, I could, ah, did you clear this with your mother?”

“This has nothing to do with my mother, Richard,” I say. “Please have the papers drawn up.”

“I just, your mother, I work—”

“You work for the Lofthouse family, is that correct?” I ask.

He nods. “Of course.”

“I will be paying your bill for this work. Please have the contracts drawn up as soon as possible and send them to me via email.”

“Very… very well.”

“Thank you.” I stand, shake his hand again, and leave. Dean hurries after me. We manage to make it out of his office before we both practically fall over with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he says. “Did you see his face? I swear, he thought he were joking a first. And when you said the price? He nearly had a heart attack.”