Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Anarchy it is.
Cursing, Gareth kicked the wall.
Fuck. It had been too soon. Much too soon!
For him, for her. He hadn’t even said it to himself that he loved Hazel.
Why the hell had he been so damn impatient that he had to say it to her face?
He would have recognized the panic in her eyes anywhere because it was the same panic he’d seen in her seven years ago.
It happened too fast — and it went south.
He hadn’t had time to formulate a plan or prepare his words.
It hadn’t been the right place or the right moment.
He understood that Hazel was scared, and he agreed with her; she had more to lose than he did.
She’d have to listen to stupid comments for the rest of her life and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to prove herself repeatedly simply because she was with him…
But shit, he wanted her.
He’d had a short circuit. Hazel’s words had gone to his head.
She was right. He would find contentment and happiness by following a well-ordered schedule and a three-year plan.
He could only do that by allowing himself to feel as much as possible.
He'd have to get to know himself better and figure out what he wanted – not what he wanted from his career, but from his life.
And everything he’d ever wanted in life had just fled. He had let her go!
“Fuck!” he repeated loudly, running his hand through his hair before hurrying after her.
What the hell had he told Hazel? That he wouldn’t fight for her?
What was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes he’d made back then.
He wasn’t going to say okay and leave, only to collapse without her.
If she wanted proof of his feelings, he’d give it to her.
If she wanted to work out a detailed plan for how best to go public with their relationship and protect her from potential repercussions if they broke up, then he’d damn well write it!
He quickened his pace, skipping the elevator and rushing down the stairs instead. But when he finally reached the parking lot, Hazel was nowhere to be found.
Shit.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialed her number, and was immediately greeted by her voicemail. Her phone was off. She’d asked for space, and she was taking it.
That was okay. She should do whatever was best for her. He could wait, he…
Fuck, okay, he didn’t know if he could wait. He’d never had much patience, and with every second he didn’t see, hear, or feel her, the tightness in his chest grew.
Where the hell was Cian’s living room floor when he needed it?
He leaned against his car, took a deep breath…and jumped when his phone rang. He didn’t bother to check the caller ID. “Hello?”
It wasn’t Hazel. But close.
“Gareth? This is Thea. Hazel’s mother. You gave me your number for emergencies.”
“Thea,” he said, surprised, straightening up. “Are you okay?”
A brief moment of silence followed before she said, “Honestly, no, I’m not. I can’t reach Hazel, and I just received a summons for court. I’m being sued. I guess Kosianos wasn’t bluffing.”
As Hazel’s mother spoke, Gareth’s grip tightened around his phone, making it creak in his fist. “Oh, he’ll wish he was bluffing,” he said coldly, unlocking his car and sinking behind the wheel.
“Don’t worry, Thea. The lawsuit will go away.
” He’d had enough. Hazel had asked him not to visit Kosianos in person, but he’d had enough.
The asshole had chosen the wrong day to make him angry.
“I don’t want to be a bother. You’ve already done so much for me. Are you certain you want to take care of this?”
“Absolutely,” he whispered. “Stay where you are. I’ll call when there’s any news.”
Relieved, she sighed. “Thank you. Maybe I should have just paid…”
“No,” he said roughly. “Kosianos shouldn’t have pushed it so far. I'll talk to you later.”
“Oh, before you hang up: I’m glad Hazel found you, Gareth. You make a lovely couple.”
His heart stopped. “We’re not…”
“I have eyes in the back of my head, young man,” she said warningly. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
Sighing, he rubbed his face. “It’s…complicated.”
“Well, the simple things in life aren’t worthwhile, are they?” she said firmly. “Good luck, Gareth!”
The next moment, she hung up.
Gareth knew where Billy Kosianos worked and knew the weasel would be in the office on a Saturday, just like everyone who worked in cutthroat, big law firms. He’d once worked at one himself.
It was all black furniture, glass, and people with harried expressions.
Gareth didn’t bother checking in with the receptionist. He went straight to the top floor, read the nameplates on the doors, and pushed open the one in the last corner office with his fist.
The glass door slammed against the wall behind it, making the man behind the gigantic desk jump, but he quickly recovered.
“Gareth Clark. What an honor,” Kosianos said with a grin. He looked just as greasy as he had seven years ago, with his hair slicked back as if he were still in the nineties. He was wearing an immaculate suit. Well, they’d see how long that lasted.
“Billy Kosianos. What a shame,” he replied coldly.
The lawyer’s grin only widened. “Let me guess: You’re here to talk about the good old days?” he said cheerfully, slowly coming around the desk.
Gareth didn’t reply. He just stared at his counterpart calculatingly.
God, how he hated the guy. He used to treat Hazel like dirt.
He’d deliberately given her a fake timetable so she’d be late to every lecture, poured dirt in her bag because "dirt and filth went together," and humiliated her so many times in front of her classmates about her background and obvious money problems that Gareth couldn’t count them on two hands.
Kosianos had treated her as if she wasn't worth Harvard and that had struck a nerve with Gareth.
Admittedly, everything to do with Hazel struck a nerve, but Kosianos had always had a special talent in that area.
“You must imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the reply to my letter,” Kosianos continued delightedly. “Here I am, wanting to piss on Hazel Barrow and I get a two-for-one deal with you! She was hoping you’d still scare me, huh?”
Gareth smiled coolly and stepped forward suddenly.
Kosianos stopped abruptly.
Yes, he was still scared. He was only barking to hide it.
“Billy, I’m not here to listen to your bullshit,” he replied in a dangerously calm tone.
“I'm here to explain the schedule for the next few hours. You will drop this ridiculous lawsuit. Today. You will write a personal letter of apology to Mrs. Barrow, explaining that you were too stupid to properly grasp the situation. And then you will bake her cupcakes and bow low to Hazel the next time you see her.”
Kosianos snorted. “Anything else?”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d ask.” Gareth inclined his head. “Do you remember what I told you back then, what I would do if you said one more bad word about Hazel? And what I did when you made the mistake of ignoring my kind request?”
Kosianos snorted again and crossed his arms. “Are you threatening me, Clark?”
“Threatening is such an ugly word. I’m merely pointing out the consequences of your actions.”
“We’re not children anymore. You can’t just punch me if you don’t like what I have to say. I’d call the police. The press would tear you to pieces. You’re not a student anymore, you’re the owner of the Hawks. You have to maintain a clean slate.”
“I don’t give a shit about keeping a clean slate,” he whispered.
From Billy’s pale complexion, he could tell he believed him. “Why the hell are you even Barrow’s lawyer?” he demanded, annoyed. “You haven’t practiced law for a year! You don’t owe Hazel a favor for once deigning to fuck you! It was merely a pity fuck for you anyway.”
Hot rage made Gareth’s blood boil, and he clenched his hands. “I advise you to shut up,” he whispered tonelessly.
“Why?” Kosianos smirked. “You won’t do anything. Your control and your image are too important to you. And Hazel is still trash that someone dumped at Harvard, Clark. She’s really not worth the stress.”
A red veil settled over his eyes, pushing away the shred of reason his mind clung to, and a roar filled his ears.
And then there was nothing but anger and the thought that no one could talk about Hazel like that. Especially not in his presence.
Panic flashed across Kosianos’ face, and he took a step back. “I’ll call the police if you get violent!”
“Well then, you’d better call,” he murmured.
They didn’t arrive in time.
Gareth knew what it felt like to lose his mind — he was used to never completely letting go, just barely hanging on by his fingertips, trying to prevent something worse from happening.
But as he stretched his legs out on the concrete bench, inhaling deeply the scent of urine and bad decisions, and carelessly wiping the blood from his knuckles, he realized that total loss of control was strangely satisfying. And sometimes just worth it.
He’d imagined a holding cell would be more uncomfortable. The tin toilet and concrete benches bothered him only half as much as the screaming woman outside the bars.
“What the hell, Gare? What’s going on?” Penny’s face was so red she could easily work as a police siren. “You broke his nose!”
“Exactly, just his nose,” he said lightly. “The guy was lucky.”
“Are you smiling?” his sister exclaimed incredulously.
“Well, the whole situation is a bit funny when you think about it.”
“What?”
“Calm down, Penny. If you open your eyes any wider, they’ll fall out of your head. And personally, I wouldn’t pick up anything that landed on this floor.” He tapped his toe on the dirty tiles.
“You're telling me to calm down? You should have calmed down! Who the hell is this guy anyway? Why were you with him and not at the practice game?!”
“Oh, Kosianos is a weasel,” another voice chimed in. The next moment, Cian strolled into the room.