Read Online House Rules by Rebecca Brooke - Free Book Online

fucking way I was letting some dumbass make me late. “Fine. If the bastard wants to be difficult, we’ll do it my way, but I guarantee he’s not going to like it.”
    I walked over to the bookcase on the wall, pulling open the cabinet underneath. All the while, the vein at my temple throbbed. I had a ton of shit to do. Normally I’d call Brock to deal with an asshole like this guy, but the fucker was causing a scene in the bar, drawing attention to something I’d gone great lengths to hide. Time was a luxury I didn’t have.
    My fingers wrapped around the handle of the baseball bat I kept in the office for these types of circumstances. I nodded toward the door. “Bring him back here and I’ll deal with him myself.”
    Jason’s brows drew down. “You don’t want me to call Brock?”
    “No.”
    Jason nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
    I paced around my office, tapping the bat against the palm of my hand. I’d had enough bullshit for one day. Normally I was a lot more patient, but this just happened to be the proverbial straw, and the dumbass on his way to my office was going to deal with the consequences, and pay for my bad fucking mood as well.
    The shouting sounded from down the hall. “Why the hell are you bringing me back here? I want to see whoever runs this place.”
    This motherfucker wasn’t going to leave on his own two feet if he kept that shit up.
    “I already told you, Mr. Hawes is in his office.” Jason’s voice rose loud enough to be heard over the crowd in the bar.
    The door swung open and a short, mouthy fat guy walked into the room. “He better listen to what I’m saying, otherwise things aren’t going to end well for him.”
    Jason looked over at me and opened his mouth to answer the idiot in front of me but I shook my head. When I said I’d deal with it, I meant all of it.
    Jason took a step back and shut the door behind him, all before the drunk idiot in front of me paid me any attention. I continued tapping the bat against my hand until, finally, he turned to face me. “Like I told that guy, I’m not paying—”
    His eyes widened when they finally focused on the bat in my hand. He took a step toward the door and reached for the handle. Leaving would have been his best option at this point. What he hadn’t expected was for the door to be locked from the outside.
    Panting, he turned to me, palms held up. I guess he thought the gesture would keep me from beating his ass.
    “What’s your name?” My tone left no room for anything but an answer.
    “Harold Weller.” His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t hold them for long, letting them drop to his sides and clenching them into fists.
    “Mr. Weller, I hear you aren’t interested in paying your debt.”
    He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’ve got the money right here.”
    I took a step toward him, then another. “See that’s part of the problem. You honestly seem to believe that I had Jason bring you back here over some money you owe me.”
    “You don’t want the money?”
    “Oh, I want the money.” I walked around him. “But I’m more concerned about you announcing to the whole bar what happens here, behind closed doors.” Pulling back, I swung the bat, directly into his ribs. The grunting sound left me with a little gratification, but certainly not enough to calm my fucked up day. I took another swing at the same spot and Weller dropped to his knees, clutching his side.
    “I said I’d pay,” he panted.
    “I know you will. But I think you need a reminder about how business in this bar is conducted. That way the next time, if I allow there to be a next time, you’ll conduct yourself properly.”
    Tempering my force so as not to kill the bastard, I took two more swings into his ribs until I heard the satisfying snap of bone breaking. Each time he tried to protect his body. Unfortunately for him, and his ribs, standing above him left me