(no subject)
Fuck.
Yeah, literally, big boy. You really think that was wise? You should have just sucked him dry, and then maybe the Senior Partners would believe your little act. Plus, a sweet deal in so many tasty ways. The little slut would have given you any-
Roaring, I smash my fists into my desk and shove the rising piles of files onto the floor.
God, I hate it when he’s right.
Growling, I tear apart the nearest chair, one more expense to tack on, one more debt on my head, not that they care. The Senior Partners are probably more interested in the psychological reasonings why I attacked the chair so they can use that against me, design a liaison more tailored to fit my needs.
Hell. Running a rough hand through my hair, I pace, trying to get Angelus, Wes, the Circle, Lindsey, everyone out of my head.
He's over there right now, maybe still feeling my hands on his skin and that creep Hamilton is just going to...
Wes is going to be a shell just like Fred. He's not going to survive this. How is he going to survive that bastard's manipulations? I shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have listened to McDonald. What the hell was I thinking? Punching the wall doesn't seem to help my focus, but I do again and again and again, until I end up slumped against it.
What was I thinking?
I sit there for long moments in the corner, listening to myself breathe. Sometimes it's just comforting to do. Struggling to my feet after what seems like hours, I push the button on my intercom, "Harmony, get somebody in here to clean up my office. Somebody let a demon loose in it." Her chirpy response is cut off when I let go of the button.
Slouching in my chair, I slowly bat at some of the files, and deliberately dial down my hearing so that if there is something going on with Wes - with that inhuman bastard liaison - I at least don't have to hear it...
[ Open to Hamilton. ]