Furious (Anger Management #2) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,32

it really mattered, Sloane reminded herself with a heavy sigh as she pushed her chair back and decided that it was time to face the music. She needed to get this over with and hope that she only ended up getting her license suspended. Not that it would matter since she doubted that anyone would hire her after this.

As she walked into her room, Sloane debated calling his sister first and telling her that she needed to be replaced only to decide that it would probably be a better idea to call the agency and line up someone else to take over for her before she broke the news to his sister. Either way, Melissa was going to be pissed, but at least this way she might not feel the need to call up the agency and destroy everything that Sloane had worked so hard for.

Decision made, Sloane went to grab her phone off the nightstand only it wasn’t there. It also wasn’t on her bed, under her bed, on her bureau, on the bathroom counter, in the living room, or in the kitchen. Sighing, she went to grab the house phone so that she could call her phone only the phone wasn’t on the charger and neither was the one that was supposed to be in Chase’s room.

Hoping that she was wrong, she forced herself to walk into the garage and

“Nothing happened,” Chase said as soon as she stepped into the air-conditioned garage that had been turned into a home gym sometime before she’d started working here.

“Is that why you stole my phone?” Sloane asked, glancing around the large garage, hoping to find her phone so that she could avoid this conversation.

“I knew you’d do something stupid,” Chase said as he placed the weights back on the bar and sat up.

“I can’t stay,” Sloane said, hoping that would be enough, but of course, it wasn’t.

“And why’s that?” Chase asked, grabbing a white towel off his wheelchair and used it to wipe the sweat off his face and chest while he waited for an answer.

“I crossed a line, Chase, and I can’t stay here. I just need my phone so that I can arrange for someone else to take over before I go,” Sloane said, really hoping that he took pity on her and just let her leave.

“You don’t need to find a replacement,” Chase said, shaking his head as he tossed the towel back on his wheelchair before he laid back down on the bench and grabbed hold of the bar.

Sighing, Sloane said, “Yes, I do,” as she turned around and

“No, you don’t,” Chase said, sounding bored as she forced herself to turn back around.

“You need help, Chase,” she said, gesturing lazily around them.

“No, I don’t,” the stubborn bastard said, making her sigh.

“You can’t take care of yourself, Chase,” she said, shaking her head as she turned back around and

“Is that what you really think?” he called after her.

“You don’t want to know what I really think,” Sloane said, deciding that she’d call the agency from her brother’s house because she really could not do this right now. She walked into her room and grabbed her bags from the closet and threw them on her bed, struggling not to lose it.

“So, tell me,” Chase said as he rolled into her room.

“No,” Sloane said, grabbing a stack of shirts out of her drawer and carried them over to her bed, refusing to look at him as she shoved them in a bag.

“Then I guess it’s my turn, huh?” Chase said, nodding absently as he added, “We both fucked up, Sloane.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” she said, shaking her head in disgust as she grabbed another stack of shirts.

“Yeah, it is,” he said, sounding thoughtful as he watched her. “You promised to help me.”

“And it looks like I’m breaking that promise,” Sloane said, shoving more clothes in her bag and

“It must be really fucking devastating to know that a cripple made you wet,” Chase bit out coldly, making her go still.

“Are you kidding me?” Sloane asked, shaking her head in disgust as she turned around to face him.

“Not one fucking bit,” he said evenly through a clenched jaw.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to grab more clothes. “You have no idea what it’s like to screw up this badly.”

There was a humorless chuckle and then, “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s all I fucking know,” Chase bit out angrily as he rolled over to her bed, grabbed her iPad and

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