Текст книги "Traded"
Автор книги: Rebecca Brooke
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
CHAPTER 13
Ashton
Elena’s body relaxed against me and her breathing evened out. But I was too consumed to sleep, my mind racing with thoughts of the enigma that lay in my arms. She was a paradox. Confident enough to demand my bed, yet submissive enough to relinquish control.
She was perfect.
I hadn’t been sure if asking her to submit would be too much. She’d come so far in the last month—asserting herself, making her feelings known. It dawned upon me that I might have set her back. But I wouldn’t know for sure until she woke up.
I’d started to lose control the moment she suggested leaving the restaurant. The curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts . . . they had called to me for weeks. I wanted her more than I could ever remember wanting another woman. Most who claimed they could submit in bed lied. They either tried to dominate both inside and outside the bedroom, or they were submissive all the time. Elena was turning out to be the perfect mix.
Too bad she’s married.
Things were changing for Elena, but making the decision to end her marriage had to be her choice. There was always the chance that this was a fluke. That would be disappointing. She could be magnificent.
But would she be?
The buzz coming from the floor pulled me from my thoughts. I knew it wasn’t Elena’s phone. That was still in her purse, and none of the people who had that number would be calling her now.
Gently moving my arm from underneath her, I climbed out of bed and waited a moment, conscious that she needed her rest. When I was satisfied she wouldn’t wake, I searched the floor for my pants, the buzzing continuing somewhere left of the bed. I found them and pulled my phone from the front pocket. It was a text message. Seeing the name on the screen, I groaned.
Elena grunted and turned over in her sleep. Moving quickly, I tugged on my boxers, stepping out the door and quietly shutting it behind me to head downstairs to my office. Before I opened the message I poured myself a drink, taking a large swig that burned going down, bringing a sense of calm with it.
My back hit the couch and I pulled up the text. The quicker I answered, the sooner I could be back in bed.
Dominic: I have tickets for the game tomorrow night. Wanna go?
Of course the bastard would have some kind of super power; some radar that told him I’d slept with his wife. Remembering the way he’d told her to let me practically rape her anytime I wanted made my blood rush in my ears. My jaw worked itself back and forth as I answered his text with the standard response.
Me: I have the club box that night if you want to give away your tickets and meet me there.
Obviously the fucker had money, but there was no way in hell he was getting anywhere near Elena until my three months were up. She at least deserved that much time. I was tempted to ask how much he had, but I’d find out soon enough. His reply came almost instantly.
Dominic: Perfect. I’ll meet you there.
Whatever he wanted could wait until the meeting. I sent a text to Brock letting him know he’d be working the next night and then my thoughts drifted back to Elena. I had a feeling the woman had never experienced an orgasm in her entire life. The way she lit up for me almost immediately . . .
The thought had my cock twitching. But she hadn’t been the only one affected. My name crossing her lips almost made me come before I got inside of her. Whether or not she’d still be the same feisty woman when she woke up in the morning remained to be seen. If so, the question was: how far could I push her? I could show her a whole new world, open her eyes to sensations the likes of which she’d never seen. But I could only show her and wait for her reaction. I wouldn’t force her to do anything. How much she wanted to participate, I didn’t know.
A million questions swirling through my head, I tossed back the rest of my drink and left the tumbler on the table. I’d get it in the morning if Julia didn’t find it first. Climbing the stairs, I found myself becoming drowsy. Sleep didn’t come easy to me. Having to juggle so many aspects of business—both legitimate and otherwise—meant that my mind was almost constantly occupied, making it hard to switch off. Most nights, I couldn’t wait for the morning.
I opened the door, hoping not to startle her. I could just make out her shape in the darkness. She was curled on her side, her soft brown hair fanning the pillow. Shedding the boxers, I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over us, excited and nervous about the prospect of spending the entire night with a warm body against me. While not unusual for me to have a woman in my bed, a sleepover was out of the question, the arrangement being purely sexual.
“Ashton.”
I froze, worried I’d woken her, but her eyes remained firmly closed, her words nothing but a murmur—the product of a dream-filled slumber. My heart raced, but as alien a feeling as that was, I was too tired to examine what it meant. Unknowingly, she slid closer, wrapping herself around me until she was contained in my arms again, our limbs a tangled mess, her cheek resting against the left side of my chest. Closing my eyes, I hoped Elena played a starring role in my dreams that night. Thoughts of all the things I planned on doing with her over the next few weeks, floated through my mind and I smiled, gradually drifting off into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 14
Elena
When I woke, something was off. I moved my legs. The sheets weren’t the same as those I’d slept on for the last month. The mattress felt different too—softer.
Ashton’s room.
Memories of the night before filtered through my head. I’d let Ashton touch me, and I now understood what every other woman in the world talked about in regards to sex.
Stretching, I glanced around from the bed, looking for my clothes from the night before, muscles I didn’t know I had were sore, but in the most delicious way. I looked around the room, seeing Ashton’s bedroom properly for the first time. In the days since I arrived, I’d been exploring so I’d known where it was, but never ventured in—not even for a peek while he was out. The room was what could only be described as overtly masculine, the dark color of the woods fitting him perfectly. The chair in the corner had a high back and wide arms, which could easily be used to hold clothes but there was no trace of clutter. The room was immaculate. Not a thing was out of place. He had a housekeeper, but neatness and order were part of who Ashton was so I knew this penchant for tidiness was all him.
Try as I might, I couldn’t find my dress or underwear. They were gone. Casting another glance around, something on the end of the bed caught my attention: a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt.
The room was quiet. No body next to mine in the large bed. No running water coming from the bathroom. Ashton must have collected the clothes for me then gone downstairs. The thoughtful nature of his gesture left me with a warm feeling in my stomach; one that I relished.
I leaned back against the intricately carved headboard, pulling the sheets up and over my body, catching sight of the faintly reddened skin at my wrists, the memories of the silk tie sliding up my skin, connecting me to the bars, rushing forward. Clenching my thighs against the onslaught of need, I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. The bathroom was bigger than the one attached to my room—twice the size of a normal bathroom. With a huge tub in the corner and a glass stall shower next to it, I was torn between which to use, knowing the shower would be quicker and easier, but a nice soak would ease the ache in my tired muscles. My thoughts returned to the man downstairs.
Quick and easy it is.
I turned on the water, setting my clothes on the counter. There, next to the sink, was a toothbrush. At first I thought it might be Ashton’s, but realized that his was in the holder next to the other sink.
He put that there for me.
Grabbing the toothpaste, I brushed my teeth and hopped into the shower, the warm water running down my body, loosening my muscles. All of the ways Ashton had touched me last night were better than any sex I could remember. The second I gave control over to him, we both assumed our roles; slipping into character, our bodies synchronized as we played our parts to perfection.
I’d been told what to do by a man for most of my adult life and I’d hated it. But last night was different. Every command, every direction, ramped up my desire. His commands were short, direct, but there was no edge of malice, no ulterior motive. And in the end, it hadn’t just been about him. Ashton had given.
And given.
And given.
Despite the heat of the water, goose bumps peppered my skin at the memory.
Wondering where he might be, I finished my shower and dressed quickly, checking myself over in the mirror before I went in search of him. Reaching the landing, I smelled breakfast and my stomach growled its appreciation. Following my nose, I found him at the stove, flipping bacon and stirring eggs, his pants hanging low on his hips but he wore no T-shirt, the muscles of his broad shoulders on view.
“Good morning.”
His head snapped around and in the blink of an eye, the utensils were placed on the counter and Ashton was standing in front of me.
“Good morning,” he whispered, tipping my chin up for a kiss.
The second his lips grazed mine my body pressed against him, loving the feeling of the bare skin of his chest against my hands. His tongue plunged into my mouth and I could taste the coffee that lingered on his lips. The kiss was fleeting and he pulled back, breathless.
“It’s an even better morning than I thought.” He smirked, taking my hand in his and leading me to the table.
“I think I have to agree.” I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, not sure what else to say.
He groaned and used his thumb to pull my lip free. “If anyone gets to bite that lip, it’s me.”
My blood heated and I tried to get control of my thoughts. “Ashton,” I whispered.
“My name on your lips is one of my favorite sounds. Now sit while I get breakfast, then we can talk.”
Ashton wants to talk about last night.
To keep my hands from shaking, I moved them under my thighs until a cup of coffee appeared before me, providing the perfect distraction. I picked up the cup and let the strong brew take away my fears—for a moment anyway.
Ashton placed plates with eggs, bacon, and toast in front of us, taking the seat next to me. Avoiding eye contact, I added pepper to my eggs and concentrated heavily on picking my fork up off of the table.
“Elena, you’re nervous. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Taking a deep breath in and letting it out in a long puff, I glanced up at him. “You said you wanted to talk and I’m nervous about why.”
He shook his head. “You don’t ever need to be nervous with me. I do want to talk about a few things, including last night.”
“Okay.” My eyes darted back to my food, stabbing a piece of egg to start eating.
“Last night was . . .” I waited to hear how he would describe it.
Mistake.
Okay.
I’ve had better.
They all popped into my head.
“Incredible.”
My gaze snapped to his, my eyes wide and my jaw hanging low.
He covered my thigh with his hand, massaging gently. “You need to move your stuff into my room.”
“I what?”
With his index finger he pushed my chin up to close my mouth. “I want you to stay in my room while your here.”
“Umm . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” he asked, watching me with shrewd eyes.
“Because one night of great sex doesn’t mean I’m moving into your room. I may like to be told what to do in your bed, but out here I’ve learned that I can decide for myself and I won’t repeat past mistakes.”
Ashton smiled. “Most people wouldn’t think to question me. While I want you to stay in my room, I’m thrilled you’re willing to stand up to me.”
“Of course I am. We’re you afraid I’d keep submitting to you?”
“To be honest I was worried, but I hoped I was wrong.”
I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “Well you were.”
He leaned forward and stole a quick kiss. “I’m glad. Now eat. You need your energy.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re lucky I’m hungry.”
He chuckled and began eating. Halfway through breakfast, he set his fork down and looked up at me. “I’m meeting Dominic tonight for a payment.”
My fork almost to my mouth, my hand froze. “What?” I choked out.
“Dominic text me last night about a payment.”
I knew what Ashton did for his father—he’d gone to deal with payments while I’d been living here—but this was different. He was meeting a man I never wanted to see again, if I could avoid it. I knew that wasn’t realistic; we were married, after all. If only I could snap my fingers and fix everything.
“He’s not going to want me back early, is he?”
“That’s not his choice,” Ashton growled. “He didn’t have the money in time and I refrained from beating him to a bloody pulp because of the deal for you. If he makes that mistake, I’ll kick the shit out of him.”
I nodded, unable to speak my throat was so dry.
Ashton brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Elena, you do realize you’ll have to face him eventually?”
“No. I could just send him the divorce papers in the mail and never see him again.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “I wish it were that simple. If you do it that way you’ll always be looking over your shoulder. And you need to show him you’re strong. You have to tell him face to face.”
I cringed. “I guess I do.”
Part of me wanted to disappear into the night, never to face Dominic and all of his bullshit ever again, because the thought of having to go back to him already made my heart ready to pound out of my chest. I feared his words would pull me back into a place I was working my way out of.
“I want to take you to a game one of these days. Just us, no business.”
One night a week or so ago, I’d told Ashton about what happened the night of the trade, remembering how excited I’d been to finally see a game. Telling Ashton was so embarrassing, but he hadn’t made it awkward. I shivered at the thought of seeing Dominic at the game. He went frequently. How could I be sure he wouldn’t be there when I was?
“Don’t worry, I don’t want you anywhere near that asshole. You stay here for the game tonight, we can deal with him when the time comes.”
I nodded and continued with my breakfast, my stomach better. Ashton finished eating long before me and sat sipping another cup of coffee. Picking up our dishes, I walked them to the sink and as I came back to my seat, Ashton’s hand grabbed mine, stopping me in my tracks. His glasses were conveniently gone, the green in his eyes even brighter.
He growled and tugged me to him, his mouth devouring mine. Electricity zipped along my nerves when his tongue plunged into my mouth. Demanding. Possessive. Sexy. Braver than I thought I could be, I let my hands slid up his chest, tracing each ridge of his muscled abdomen, the skin silky beneath my fingertips. He pulled away suddenly, and I thought for a minute I’d done something wrong.
Taking hold of my shoulders, he spun me around and my hands fell forward, my palms flat against the table. A primitive desire took hold, my core throbbing with need.
“Ashton.”
Fingertips wrapped around the waistband of my pants and they, along with my panties, were yanked down around my thighs. Sensation spread through me. One of Ashton’s fingers slipped through my core to circle my clit, the warm heat of his body covering my back as he pressed himself against me.
“You have a sexy ass,” he said, taking little nibbles of my shoulder between his words. “And one of these days I’m going to fuck you right here.” His finger traced around the edge of the one place I’d never considered letting a man go and I gasped, my hips bucking forward. It was scary, yet exciting at the same time. His finger moved away, then there was a slight sting when his hand smacked my ass cheek, the feeling so delicious that my thighs quivered.
“But right now I want hard and fast.” The commanding timbre of his voice was almost my undoing.
“Please,” I begged, sliding my ass back, searching for him.
Smack!
“Oh no, no, my sweet.” His hand gripped my hip, holding me in place, while the thumb of his other hand pressed into my core, the spicy musk that was uniquely Ashton surrounding me. “So fucking ready. You like being told what to do.”
“Yes.” I whimpered. “Please.”
There was a tear of foil; a sound so delicious I clenched in anticipation. Ashton pushed into me in one long thrust, filling me completely.
“Oh God.”
“Never get tired of the feel of you around my cock,” he grunted.
Each time he sank into me my body tensed, looking for the sweeping pleasure of the previous night.
“I’m so close.”
His hand reached around to pinch my clit and sparks shot off through my body, clenching tight, pulling him into me as he continued to thrust. It wasn’t long before he his thrusts lost their rhythm and came in short hard bursts, his fingers biting into my skin until, finally, he grunted, pressing himself against me, holding himself there.
For a few minutes, we were both unable to speak. Eventually, he stood, pulling me up with him. “You, my dear, are absolutely amazing,” he said against my ear. When I turned my head, his lips once again took possession of mine. The kiss wasn’t animalistic in its passion, but it burned me to my toes anyway. He pulled away, breathless, staring at me for a beat before helping me to right my clothes.
“I’ve got to get ready to leave. I want you to enjoy your day. Don’t worry about anything.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do you have to rehearse today?”
“No. They still need one more cast member and the auditions are today.”
I was extremely glad I didn’t have to go anywhere because the excitement of waking up in Ashton’s bed had worn off and I was exhausted. The question of whether or not to move into his room began to swirl through my head. I couldn’t make my decision based upon sex. I needed to be smarter than that. And to be smart, I needed headspace.
“Okay. I’m going to head over to the stadium straight from the restaurant so I’ll be late. Text me if you need anything.” He pressed a brief kiss to my lips and left me alone in the kitchen with nothing but my thoughts.
Deciding to blow off some steam, I went down to the basement and hit the treadmill. With each mile, I wondered if I should feel guilty for sleeping with another man. A little voice in the back of my head said yes, while the rest chanted a resounding hell no. Dominic had given me permission to have sex with Ashton. Technically, I was doing as I’d been told.
From the moment I met him, Ashton had encouraged me to stand up for myself, to see myself as worthy. There was no need to feel guilty about a man who treated me the way I deserved to be treated. Not to mention his dominant ways were more of a turn on than I’d ever expected.
Is it too soon to move into his bedroom?
For hours I pondered the answer, but even if I had a hundred valid reasons not to do it, I knew that I wanted to wake up in Ashton’s bed every morning. If he planned night after night of delicious torment for me, I was jumping into the deep end with no lifejacket on.
I was done making everyone else happy.
It was time to be a big girl and make decisions for me.
CHAPTER 15
Ashton
Walking toward the doors of the restaurant, my mind was completely focused on Elena. Mentioning Dominic to her only hours after she’d spent the night in my bed hadn’t been the best move. It was obvious the idea of facing him still made her nervous; something I hoped to help her with before she saw him again.
Even though she shot me down, I had a feeling she was considering my offer to sleep in my room every night. I was thrilled she hadn’t caved immediately. It proved she was becoming stronger—standing up for herself. I wasn’t kidding when I told her she’d need to face him eventually, and if she had a chance of getting away from him once and for all, she’d need to be able to hold her own.
I really wished I hadn’t chosen to conduct these meetings at the games. I used to love to go there and relax, have a few drinks and unwind, but now I’d begun to dread being there. Having to deal with Tolley just made it that much worse. The more time I spent with Elena, the more I realized just how much damage he’d done, and that made it harder to curb the desire to knock his head off.
“Morning, Mr. Hawes.”
I rolled my eyes at Dustin, the bartender. No matter how many times I told him to call me Ashton, he never listened. For some reason, he thought it was funny. I failed to see the joke.
I stopped briefly to discuss the liquor order, then headed to my office.
My desk was full of paperwork, which was my own fault. For the past few weeks I’d been leaving early to get home to Elena. It felt weird to hurry home to someone, but so right at the same time. Except there was a shit-ton of guilt attached to it. Never once had I slept with a married woman. I may have a skewed moral compass, but I still had one. And one of the things my father had drilled into us over the years was that you don’t cheat on your spouse, or sleep with someone else’s. Although Dad didn’t seem to have an issue with the current situation.
Pushing the guilt to the back corner of my mind, I began tackling the orders for the next week. It took me longer than normal; thoughts of Elena in my bed every night more than a little distracting.
Maybe Dad was right when he said I felt more for Elena than lust.
I had feelings for Elena that went a whole lot deeper than saving her from a bad situation. Figured that, for the first time in my life, I wanted a woman for more than a few weeks, a woman who happened to be the perfect match for me in every way imaginable, and she was married to a man that gave a new definition to the word asshole.
Everything in my life had been that way. I had the education and experience to become a chef in a high profile restaurant, except that the business didn’t give me the time to work in a restaurant. My way of overcoming that was to buy my own and make them more successful than anything else in the area.
If there was anyone that could overcome the obstacles that stood in the way of Elena and I making a go of this thing, it was me.
The game was in the third inning and still no sign of the rat bastard, though saying that, I’d still have to stay the whole game, even if he’d showed up during the first inning. Leaving right after him would be too suspicious. Dad was adamant we remain cautious if we were to avoid being caught. If the home team was losing, I could sneak out early since half of the stadium would be leaving with me.
Brock called for dinner earlier in the evening and the only thing I could think about were the meals I’d shared with Elena over the last few weeks. There had only been three times, including tonight, where she’d been left to eat alone. I knew she didn’t have any friends, except the one from the diner. Dominic had done one hell of a job isolating her from everyone in her life.
“Ashton, what the hell is up with you?”
I peered over my shoulder at Brock to find him staring at me, brows drawn down.
“What do you mean?”
He pointed at my plate with his own fork. “Let’s start with the fact that you haven’t touched your steak, one of your favorites. Not to mention you haven’t paid one bit of attention to the game. You always said the best part of dealing with all of this shit was watching the game in privacy.” He moved his fork toward the glass in front of me. “You haven’t even noticed that your team is up by four runs.”
Glancing toward the scoreboard, I notice the score one to five. How did I miss that? The only number I’d been paying attention to was the inning, wanting the game to be over sooner rather than later. I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my eyes before putting them back in place. “I guess I’m distracted.”
“It’s the girl, isn’t it? I saw the way you looked at her that first night.”
I couldn’t lie to Brock. He’d been through enough shit with me. He deserved the truth. “Yeah, it’s her.”
“You know you’re walking into a huge pile of shit by getting involved with her, right?”
“Why do you say that?” I growled, feeling my blood pressure rise. Friend or not, he was not going to sit there and bash Elena. She’d been through enough.
“Look at yourself, ready to fight me over another man’s wife. Does that even make sense? And if you’re not careful you’re going to end up getting sloppy, which you can’t afford.”
I looked down and saw my hands, clenched into a fist. With an effort, I forced them to relax. “I’m just fucking her—not asking her to marry me.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“What do you know?” I snapped.
“Look, I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you this fucked up over a woman. You rarely ever pay them any attention, unless you want to sleep with them, and this time it’s all about a married woman. What happens when it’s time for her to go back to her piece of shit husband?”
I groaned and my head fell against the back of the chair. “I’m still hoping she’ll choose not to.”
“Can’t guarantee that. And do you really want to take on a crazy fucker like Tolley? Any bastard willing to trade his wife to save his own ass must have a few screws loose.”
My head snapped up. “I’ll bury the son of a bitch if I have to.”
“I doubt your father would be real thrilled with that.”
I laughed humorlessly. “I wouldn’t bet on that. Dad met her last week. Trust me, after hearing what she’s been through, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did it himself.”
“Another David?”
What my father had done to David was worse than death. Even Brock couldn’t stomach the stories we’d all heard, and seeing the man first hand made it very clear that most of the rumors were true.
David never walked again after my dad “visited” him. He was missing his left eye and right ear, and one leg had been shattered so badly they’d had to amputate it to save his life. He had third degree burns on his head, neck, chest, and back, but the torture hadn’t stopped there. Half of his fingers were broken, the other half cut off, and his tongue was missing. I didn’t want to think about what happened to his junk. A shiver ran down my spine thinking about it. How the hell my father had managed to get away with it was beyond me.
“Possibly.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Speaking of Tolley,” Brock said, getting up to let him in.
The slimy bastard sauntered into the room like he owned the place. He stepped in front of me, holding out a small envelope in his left hand. It was nowhere near big enough to hold the amount of money he owed me. All of my debtors knew they weren’t allowed to pay me with anything higher than a fifty.
Why do I get the feeling that the man thinks he has one over on me?
“I’m guessing by the size of this envelope that this isn’t even an eighth of what you owe me.” I handed the envelope over to Brock to start counting.
“It’s ten grand. I’ll have the rest by the end of our agreement. I should have thought to trade her sooner. I don’t have to use hotels anymore, but I do hate having to clean the apartment.” His eyes darted around the room. “Where is the lazy bitch, anyway? She better be doing what I told her to, even though she’s a lousy lay.”
I leapt from the chair and without a thought let my fist fly. It connected with his face and he stumbled back, bumping into one of the tables. With another punch, I knocked him to the floor, leaping onto his chest. My glasses flew off my face and slid across the room.
“Don’t you ever . . . talk about her . . . like that . . . again!”
This wasn’t the first time I’d had to make my point with my fist. Hell, it wasn’t even the tenth. This piece of shit was lucky it was only my fist I was using. I felt the cold steel of my glock shifting against my hip as I swung back again and again.
I didn’t hide behind my muscle. I might have used Brock from time to time, but that was when I had more pressing business, or when the person involved wasn’t worthy of me getting my hands dirty. I had a reputation—one I’d earned. You did not fuck with me, and Elena was mine, at least for the moment, and therefore this guy did not fuck with her either.
Blood splattered across my hands and arms, my shoulders ached and my knuckles were raw. I reached back to take another swing, not giving two shits about the damage I was doing to him, when strong arms wrapped around my chest, pulling me away.
“He’s out cold.”
My breaths came in pants. I looked down. One eye was already swollen shut, his hair, stained red, clung to his head, blood dripped from his nose, which now bent at an awkward angle.
“Get him out of here,” I snarled. “Call someone to stay with the fucker until he wakes up and make it very clear that if ever talks about Elena that way again, he’ll be praying for me to only knock him out.”
“Ashton—” Brock started.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it,” I yelled. “Get that motherfucker out of my sight.”
Brock didn’t argue further. He quietly scooped up Dominic and pulled him into one of the bathrooms at the back of the clubhouse. There were too many people milling around to get him out of the stadium, but I was too pissed to think rationally. I didn’t want to think about the why on that one.
“God-fucking-damn it.” I pulled out my other phone, the one that couldn’t be traced, knowing the only way to fix the situation was a call to Dad. He was either going to be pissed as hell or agree whole-heartedly.
The phone rang a few times before he finally picked up.
“Hello?”
“Dad, we’ve got a problem.”
“Don’t tell me you got arrested.” His voice got louder with each word. I heard Mom yelling in the background.
“I didn’t get arrested, at least not yet.” I searched the room for my missing glasses.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
I found them on the other side of the room and placed them on one of the tables to make sure they weren’t bent. “Yeah, if you don’t get someone over here to help me clean up the mess.”
“Well, if you stop with fucking vague-ass bullshit and give me an idea of what we’re dealing with, I’ll send people over.”
