Fire & Brimstone (Neighbor from Hell #8) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,16

was cut off when the persistent bastard ruined everything by opening his big, fat mouth.

“You’re going to this fucking Doctor’s appointment!” he shouted, sealing her fate, because if there was one thing that she knew about her best friend it was that Melanie would never give up on her, no matter how much it pissed her off.

Chapter 8

“Move,” the ungrateful woman said as she glared up at him, probably trying to intimidate him, not that he really cared, because he didn’t.

“No,” he simply said, reading the texts that his supervisor was sending him and wondering if he should make a quick trip over there to make sure that things were running smoothly.

He probably would have done that if Rebecca hadn’t already tried to make fifteen escape attempts, selfishly trying to ruin his attempts to solve this medical mystery of hers. Inconsiderate woman, he thought with a sigh as he sent a text back to Adam, the supervisor that was probably more hated than him, letting him know that he wouldn’t be able to get back there for a few hours.

“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, I really do, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. If I want to leave, then I’m going to leave and it’s none of your business. So, I would really appreciate it if you would move out of my way,” she said, sounding completely rational as she stood there waiting for him to comply. If she had been anyone else, he probably would have reconsidered holding her hostage in this exam room, but this was Rebecca Shaw he was dealing with here and it was for her own good.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, wondering if he should change meat venders.

“I really am,” she said evenly as she glared up at him.

“Think again,” he said, deciding that the overall cost wouldn’t justify the switch.

“Look,” she said, getting in his face, or at least she’d tried to, but since he had a good ten inches on her it was an epic failure on her part, “I don’t like you and you don’t like me. So-”

“Wait,” Melanie, who’d demanded to tag along and had been surprisingly helpful during Rebecca’s failed escape attempts, said, interrupting her friend’s tirade, “I thought you said that he was in love with you.”

Cocking a brow, he looked up from his phone, curious to see how she was going to talk her way out of this one only to discover that the furious expression on her face had suddenly turned calculating. His own expression shifted from curious to suspicious when he recognized that look. It was the same look that most of the women who’d foolishly married into his family got right before they fucked over the love of their lives.

He really didn’t like that look.

“He is,” she said with a forlorn sigh, looking so damn innocent that he almost bought it, but thankfully he remembered who he was dealing with.

“I’m not,” he bit out as he glared down at her, wondering if his brother or father had a barrel of holy water lying around the office somewhere that he could borrow.

With a pitying look that was honestly going to get her killed, she said, “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, Christopher. You’re madly in love with me and I think it’s sweet. Really, I do. I can’t return those feelings, because,” she paused to shrug, “you’re just not my type.”

He ignored Melanie’s snort of amusement as she visibly struggled not to laugh and glared down at Rebecca. Not her type? Fucking please.

He knew for a fact that he was definitely her fucking type. She only dated tall, good-looking, muscular men and he more than fit into that category. If anything, she wasn’t his type. He wasn’t exactly sure what his type was because he’d really never thought about it, but he knew that it wasn’t a part-time waitress, who annoyed the shit out of him!

“I’m sure that one day you’ll meet someone that will return those feelings,” she continued, obviously deciding that taunting him into killing her was the best way to get out of this appointment, “but that person just isn’t me.”

God, how he wished that he could fire her again, but since he couldn’t live out that dream again, he would do the next best thing. He would make sure that the little brat didn’t get out of this doctor’s appointment.

“Look, why don’t I go sit in the waiting room? That way you can