Ambushed by M.E. McAndrews
Chapter 17
Olivia
laptop, my tired eyes scanning the screen for job postings. The evening sunlight streams into the kitchen, illuminating the worn table and chairs, painting a flurry of dancing shadows on the walls.
I am one week away from applying at the strip club. Jesus.
As I scroll through the job postings, most of them are generic and uninspiring. My eyes blur as they pass over words like “data analyst.” I wish more than ever that I had finished my college degree.
I rub my temples, leaning back.
My mind replays our encounter this morning, Austin standing in this very room, his arrogant smirk and condescending words still fresh in my mind. He had come into my home and turned my life upside down. He fired me from my job, leaving me struggling and penniless.
I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts of Austin away, and focus on finding a new job. But it's hard. I feel like I'm drowning, and I can’t find a way to swim to the surface. The weight of the day's events bears down on me, the weight of my financial troubles crushing me.
I never imagined I'd be in this situation, searching for a job at my age. But here I am, desperate and afraid. Austin's decision to fire me from the bar was a blow I wasn't expecting. And only days after finding out the insurance company had denied Seth's life insurance claim. It’s all more than I can handle.
How far will Austin go? How far has he already gone? It’s becoming obvious that he won't stop until he has completely ruined my life.
Who the hell does that?
Someone desperate. The fear rises in me that perhaps this morning wasn’t the first time he forced his way into my house. I look toward the window where I caught Austin’s dark gaze watching the house from across the street the night Seth died. Was he involved in Seth’s death?
The fear and suspicion builds when a knock on the door startles me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I hesitate for a moment, wondering who could be on the other side before I make my way toward the door. I open it, and my heart sinks when I see an envelope on the porch. My name is written in bold, black letters on the top, and a knot forms in my stomach as I reach down to pick it up.
I tear open the envelope, my hands shaking as I pull out the letter inside.
Dear Olivia,
I recently heard you lost your job pouring drinks at the local bar. That’s heartbreaking. Such an unfortunate thing to happen to someone in your position. Surely if things had worked themselves out, this all could’ve been avoided. I regret it had to happen.
However, I want to offer you something to cheer you up. I'd like to extend a standing invitation for you to come to my new bar for drinks on the house whenever you'd like.
Sincerely,
Austin Blackwater
My heart races and I clench the letter in my trembling hands as I scan the words repeatedly.
How dare he pretend that he's sorry for ruining my life? He’s just rubbing it in.
No way.
I crumple the letter in my hand, my emotions boiling over. I won't let him get away with this. I won't let him destroy my life and try to buy me off with free drinks. He’s off his rocker. I'll fight back, no matter what it takes.
I stride up the path to Austin's front door, my heart pounding in my chest. I clench my fists, the muscles of my arms flexing as I set my jaw and narrow my eyes. My breathing is heavy and fast, and my heart is racing in my chest.
He thinks he can control my life like this? Without hesitation, I storm through his front door and into the house, my eyes blazing as I look around.
“My, my, what a pleasant and rather unexpected surprise.”
I feel a flush creeping across my cheeks as I stand in the entryway, staring at Austin. He's wearing nothing but a towel, and I can't help but feel embarrassed.
He's tall, with broad shoulders and chiseled pecs. Drops of water still cling to his skin, and his hair is tousled from the shower. I had no idea he was in such incredible physical shape, as if he had been sculpted from a pristine hunk of Marble. He looks confident and unruffled, like he's completely at ease. My mouth dries slightly as my eyes dart away from his form.
“What the hell is this?” I demand, uncrumpling the letter and holding it up to his face.
Austin doesn't seem at all put off by my indignation. He just stands there, a barely visible smirk playing on his lips as his eyes scan me up and down. He steps forward and plucks the paper from my hand. His brow furrows as he reads it.
“It appears to be an invitation,” he says, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I know it's a damn invitation,” I snap. “What I want to know is why you sent it.”
He shrugs, his eyes never leaving mine. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up after losing your job. And I thought a few drinks might do the trick.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious!”
“What do you want, Olivia?” he asks, his voice cool and controlled.
“What I want,” I say, my voice unsteady, “is for you to stop messing with my life! Okay?”
“You’re the one who broke into my house. If you’d shown up thirty seconds earlier, I’d be bare ass naked.” He sets his hands on his hips, then takes a step closer, his eyes boring into mine. “You've got about a month left before you're on the street. So, what's it going to be? Are you going to sell it to me or are you going to let the bank take it? They will happily hand it over to me at a fraction of the amount I offered.”
“I’m going to get another job.”
“Sure. If anybody will hire you.” He tilts his head eyeing me. “Don’t underestimate the power I have.”
My jaw sets. “I'm not going to give up my childhood home just because you want it. You’re a monster, and I’d sooner see it burn to the ground than let you have it.”
“That would be the best thing that could happen to it.” He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “A monster? Really?” he continues. “You'd rather be homeless than take a little help from me?”
I stare at him, my chest heaving. “Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’d rather be homeless than accept even a penny from you.”
“Oh, isn't that sweet? Adorable, even.” He takes a step closer, his breath feathering across my skin as his face approaches mine. The heat from his body radiates toward mine. My heart pounds, and suddenly I can't help but wonder if he's about to kiss me.
But he stops, inches shy of my face. His dark eyes taunting as they look through me.
“I'll figure something out,” I say, my chin held high. “I don't need your help, Austin.”
He nods, his smirk widening. “Well, suit yourself,” he says, shrugging. “But don't come crying to me when you're on the street. I offered to help, but you wouldn't take it.”
I turn on my heels, my anger and embarrassment boiling over. “Goodbye, Austin,” I say, my voice tight.
“Have a good night, Livvy. Sweet dreams.”