Devastated (Anger Management, #1)(4)

Chapter 2

“My name’s Mandy!” the bleached-blond bimbo said, as he led her through the party that had gotten a little out of control, but not enough to make him care.

“Uh-huh, that’s nice,” Hunter said distractedly and admittedly not really caring as he led her through the living room, noting that his guests had already moved onto the fifth keg.

“This is a really nice house,” Mandy said, as she continued to allow him to lead her towards his bedroom where he planned to enjoy his last afternoon of freedom with an hour of meaningless sex.

“Well, it was,” Hunter said with a shrug as he looked around his new house and saw the damage that his “guests” had caused.

The place was trashed. All the furniture was destroyed, there were holes in every wall, the floors were covered in alcohol, passed out bodies, trash, food, and God only knew what else. He already knew from a quick glance outside that the surrounding property was just as bad if not worse, which was exactly what he wanted.

Either this little stunt would get his neighbors to call the police and bitch enough to make the D.A. release him early, or it would scare them all off so that he wouldn’t have to worry about pain in the ass neighbors bugging him while he was stuck living here. Either option would work for him. Granted, being released from this bullshit sentence would work a hell of a lot better for him, he thought as he stepped over a couple writhing on the floor as they did their best to tear each other’s clothes off.

“Mr. O’Mallery, I presume,” a cute little thing with long wavy caramel hair, the bluest eyes that he’d ever seen, and an outfit better suited for an office than a kegger, said, as she smoothly stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“What do you want?” Hunter demanded, assessing her in five seconds flat and dismissing her just as quickly.

He only had two hours of freedom left and he wasn’t about to waste them on anything cute. The bimbo gazing dumbly around the room was exactly what he needed. He wanted hard, hot, sweaty sex, and that’s exactly what he was going to have. He didn’t do cute, didn’t want cute and he sure as hell didn’t want to waste another second of his precious freedom talking to-

“My name is Kylie Davis. I’m your new assistant,” the cute little thing said with a friendly smile as she held her hand out to him.

He looked from the adorable expression on her face down to her neatly pressed and extremely cheap suit that she was wearing to the hand that she was offering before returning to her face.

“Oh, hell no,” Hunter said, releasing the bimbo’s hand.

“Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie said, her smile slipping as he stalked forward, giving her no choice but to take a step back and bump into some guy staggering by.

“Watch it!” the guy snapped, but the woman in front of him was smart enough to keep her eyes on him.

“You’re early,” Hunter practically snarled as he continued to stalk forward while she did her best to back away from him.

“Only by-” she started to say, but he didn’t give her a chance to finish and waste more of his precious time.

“What are you doing?” Kylie asked, sounding anxious as he reached for her, but this time she didn’t move away fast enough.

Before she could blink, he had her thrown over his shoulder and was heading for the front door. He ignored her demands to be put down until he was standing on the front stoop of the house that he’d been forced to buy. Then, with a small grunt, he released her, placing her on her feet and not really caring if she fell on her ass or not.

“Go away and don’t come back until it’s time,” Hunter said, turning his back on her and already forgetting about her as soon as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“But-” she started to say, but the sound of the door slamming shut effectively cut off whatever she was about to say.

“Now, where was I,” Hunter murmured as he scanned the room for this afternoon’s entertainment. When he found her standing by one of the many makeshift bars that he’d had set up for today’s gathering, he grinned. She was absolutely perfect for what he had planned. He’d barely managed to take a step in her direction when the doorbell chimed, taking his annoyance to a whole new level.

Oh, the little pain in the ass had balls, he’d give her that and a whole hell of a lot more if she didn’t figure out her place and soon. Maybe it was for the best that she found out how things were going to be now, Hunter mused as he turned around and yanked open the front door, more than ready to set the little pain in the ass straight.

“Fuck. Me,” Hunter growled when he spotted the small group waiting for him on his front step. The little pain in the ass was immediately forgotten as he took in the Prosecutor that had fucked him over, Ryan, a woman wearing a black business suit who looked as though she hadn’t been fucked in years, and about five seriously pissed off looking police officers.

“Clear the house,” the Prosecutor, that he was ninety percent sure he’d told to fuck off, said, as he walked into the house, or at least started to before Hunter stepped in his path.

“Not going to happen,” Hunter said, folding his arms over his chest as he glared down at the much smaller man. “I’ve got two hours and I plan on using them.”

“Actually,” Ryan said, drawing his attention away from the man scowling at him, “you don’t. Have two hours, that is.”