Chapter 41
Gabrielle's POV
Click.
That's the sound of the door unlocking when I put my key through it, but when I try to push it open, it doesn't budge.
The whole reason I'm using the key in the first place is because the passcode doesn't work.
What the hell is going on?
Once again, using my shoulder, I ram into the door and it barely opens, as if something heavy is blocking it.
Is it Lincoln?
Rolling my eyes, my finger presses the doorbell until I hear the telltale static indicating someone on the receiving end.
“Link?” I call out through the microphone.
“...Yes?” his voice bleeds through.
He sounds pissed. Yeah, it's early in the morning and I stayed out a little later than I intended to, but what's his fucking problem? I fed the damn cat.
“Um… I'm sorry to wake you if you were sleeping but something is… something's wrong with the front door.”
There's a weird noise on his end that the static fills. “Oh is there?”
This motherfucker better not be toying with me right now.
“Can you stop playing games with me and open the damn door?”
“Figure it out,” his dry tone bleeds through before the static from the receiver on the doorbell device ends, leaving me with the sound of the birds now waking up.
No he did not.
Fine, I guess we're ringing the doorbell again.
Over and over and over again. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I stand there defiantly, pressing it incessantly.
“What the hell do you want?”
“You just woke up and decided to be an asshole today? I can keep doing this all day long.”
“Yeah apparently there's a lot of things you can do all day long isn't there? And I can turn off that feature and you'll be out here standing like a dumbass pressing a button.”
“I can beat down the door too. I live here. You can't just lock me out and if that's what you're doing then we need to reconsider and reevaluate our living agreements.”
“Maybe we should,” he says.
What the fuck is his problem?
“Can you please explain to me why you even blocked the door or whatever it is you did with it? When we saw each other at work, everything was all good and peachy and now you're acting like an asshole and you're not even man enough to tell me what the hell is going on. Is Morris okay?”
Silence.
“Lincoln?” I ask with worry.
“Morris is fine,” he says monotonously, causing me to throw my hands up in the air. I don't know if he can see me through the camera but I'm assuming he can on his phone.
“Then what the ever loving hell is going on? Can you at least let me in so we can talk face to face?”
“Sure. After you tell me where you were.”
“Who the fuck… alright you know what?” I start, only to turn on my heels and head back the way I came.
My whole body is shaking with rage because I know the son of a bitch isn't sitting there questioning me about where I was like I'm his fucking wife. I will leave and not ever come back. Yes, my stuff is still there but I don't give a shit. He's lost his fucking mind.
I'm almost to the end of his driveway when I hear the front door open.
A smile starts to creep up on my face until I hear, not him running behind me, but the sound of items hitting the floor.
My hair is in a bun but it becomes loose and completely undone because of how fast I whip my head around over my shoulder to see him throwing my suitcase and my stuff out onto the steps.
No he fucking didn't!!!
Running fast back toward the house, I'm able to slam my hand against the front door just as he closes it and locks it, leaving me out there looking like an idiot with my clothes and luggage on the ground.
He must be insane, and right now I know that I'm not being rational.
Right now I understand full well the rage bubbling up inside of me is completely off-kilter, but I don't give a damn.
So I take the nearest rock that I find on the ground, lining the perimeter of his house for decoration, and sail it toward the window, causing it to spiderweb.
My lungs are heaving with adrenaline as I lift another, not too big, because just in case Morris is there I don't want to hurt him.
The front door slams open while I'm mid-throw, holding the rock above my head.
“You must have lost your fucking mind,” he says in a tone so quiet it unnerves me.
“I must have lost my fucking mind??!!!” I challenge him, stepping up to him still holding the rock over my head, only to lower it and hold it under his chin.
“Get that shit out of my face. And get out of my house,” he states, his eyes cold and narrowed toward me as if somehow I've done something egregious to him.
“Before I lose my shit you need to tell me what the fuck is going on right now!”
“After you tell me what the fuck is going on Gabrielle!”
“I don't need to tell you shit! I don't know what the hell is your problem. You lock me out, you have the stank attitude. Maybe you can treat your little side bitch like that—”
“She's not my side bitch Gabrielle! We're not married anymore, right? She's just my woman.”
Wow! The way my mouth just drops open right now I can't even help myself. There are tears in my eyes of fucking absolute motherfucking rage!!!!
OOOOO!! This man's going to make me fucking kill him I swear to God! I don't even know how to center myself in a moment like this and it's like he's trying to piss me off.
Talking isn't going to do it anymore. I need to get the hell up on out of here.
“It's 4:30 in the morning. You're walking into my house at 4:30 in the morning.”
“AAAAAANDDD???? What it do motherfucker? Why is it any of your fucking business?”
“Because I'm paying the bills in this house and I live here as well.”
“Okay? So it's okay for you to walk home 5:00 in the morning but I can't?”
“Are you doing drugs?” he asks me and I know damn well.
All I can do is laugh as I stare at him incredulously because this cannot be real life right now. “Am I… ARE YOU HIGH?!”
“Are YOU?”
“I don't even know why… you dooi—” Closing my eyes, the sarcasm bleeds through my chuckle. “I can't even talk right now.” I shiver as I clasp my hands together trying to center myself, putting both my index fingers against each other in a prayer.
“You need to tell me what the hell is going on and I know you're bad at communication but you can't be that bad.
Because I am honestly very confused and I am trying my hardest to give you the benefit of the doubt right now.
Maybe you're not feeling well, maybe your pills are affecting you or something… but you need to find your motherfucking mind right now and righten it real quick.”
“I texted you, I called you and I got nothing!
I had no idea if you got raped or kidnapped.
I don't know if somebody was blackmailing you to come rob the place.
You could have given me a fucking text back.
Something Gabrielle! And this isn't the only time.
If you're going to be living here, yes it's important for me to know when the hell you're going to be home.”
“Maybe you have your wires crossed or something honey…
but I don't have to tell you anything. My job was to take care of Morris.
You had no stipulations about what time I was supposed to be inside the house as long as I was within working hours.
So what is your issue? And I'm sorry…” I say, smiling at him, tilting my head with all the venom I can muster.
“...Did you just sit here—sorry, stand—” I point to him and then turn my palm up to the ceiling before clasping my hands and taking two steps toward him in a fake demure gesture.
“And tell me that you were upset… or that the reason you're upset is because you couldn't reach me?
Was because… you were worried about me… and I wasn't answering your calls? Or because I was coming in later than you expected me to? Go ahead Lincoln. Tell me the affirmative. Tell me that you, right now, Lincoln Arnoldson… aren’t standing right fucking there and getting all hot and heated throwing my shit out on the ground outside…
because you're mad that your ex-wife who you're not currently married to… is doing ALL THE SAME FUCKIN SHIT YOU DID TO HER WHIIIIIILE WE WERE FUCKING MARRIED!!!!!”
“I know we're not fucking married!!! This isn't about marriage!
I'm paying you $65 a fucking hour, and you're getting free housing from me to fucking house sit! Not to drop off Morris and go wherever the hell it is you go for many hours. If you were going to do that then you might as well just fucking quit.”
“I know that's not the real reason you're mad. I'm not stupid!” I yell back.
“Well tell you what Gabrielle. Whoever the fuck you're opening your legs for, why don't you have HIM fucking pay you a nice little wage, and you can fucking live with him then,” Lincoln says, snapping his arm over my shoulder and straight ahead to point behind me at the front door before pulling it back and walking away.
God I hate him!
It doesn't matter that I'm employed by him. He's using this as an excuse to try and have some moral high ground when he has none.
“This was past working hours, Lincoln, so don't try and use that excuse!”
“I'm paying you to house sit! I'm paying you to watch Morris.”
“And I'm supposed to do this the entire fucking day? I can't have any time to myself? I can't come off from work and go anywhere? You must be damn stupid. I know you're a fucking fool because this—”
“Call me out of my fucking name again,” he threatens, closing the distance between us and towering over me with his face close to mine.
My heart beats faster. My pussy starts ticking like a clock.
Working my jaw, I jerk my head to the left, looking at him, daring him to do something.
“You're gonna hit me, motherfucker?”
There's a fire in his eyes as they narrow to slits. This towering man breathes like a bull through his nose.
Ooo he's frustrated.
Good.