The Promise (Neighbor from Hell #10)(86)

“You better be fucking joking,” Hunter finally said, grabbing the bars tightly in his hands, wishing that it was Ryan’s neck instead.

“It was either house arrest or staying locked up in a cell.”

Hunter nodded, taking that in as well. “Let’s get back to something for a minute here. You call a year stuck in my house saving my ass?”

“Yes,” Ryan said with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever.

“Uh huh,” Hunter mumbled thoughtfully. “I think there’s just one little problem that you may have overlooked,” he said, only to pause as he pursed his lips up in thought before adding, “Actually, make that two problems.”

“And what’s that?”

“Maybe the fact that I live out of hotels and don’t have a fucking house? Or I don’t know, maybe the fact that I run a fucking company has something to do with it? How the hell do you expect me to run a company that employs twenty thousand people around the world on house arrest?” he demanded, not liking the smug smile on his friend’s face.

“We already came to a solution for both problems. The first is that you’re required to buy a house in this county,” Ryan explained. “And two, you’ll work from home.”

“First off,” Hunter bit out, “I don’t want to buy a house in Hicksville, Florida-”

“Ah, it’s actually Maryhale,” Ryan pointed out, but Hunter ignored him simply because he didn’t care.

“-and secondly, how am I supposed to run a company from a house?”

“You’ll have to hire an assistant,” Ryan explained in a tone that let Hunter know that the little shit clearly expected him to be in awe of his greatness.

“Fine,” Hunter said, waving dismissively for Ryan to leave, “go to Hooters. Make sure she’s blonde, has double D’s, and doesn’t talk much.”

When Ryan didn’t move to leave, Hunter narrowed his eyes on the little bastard that he should have beaten the shit out of when they were kids.

“What else?” Hunter demanded through clenched teeth, already knowing that he wasn’t going to like what his oldest friend had to tell him.

“The thing of it is, in order to get this deal for you, I had to negotiate a few things and-”

“Get to the fucking point!”

“Well, the court decided since having a live-in-”

“Live-in? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Hunter demanded, wondering just how badly the man had fucked up this case for him. He couldn’t live with a woman. It was one of the many reasons why he would never get married. He simply couldn’t stand them. As far as he knew they were only good for sex and keeping him company at all the boring dinners that Ryan forced him to attend.

“-could be seen as a benefit that the prosecution should be allowed to choose the most qualified candidate, whom they would trust to make sure that you didn’t abuse the situation.”

Hunter stared at him for a moment.

Finally, he said, “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

“I’m afraid not, and before you tell me that you’re just going to fire her, I should probably tell you that if you fire her, then you’ll have to finish your sentence in jail.”

“What if she quits?” he asked slowly, already running ideas through his head on how to get rid of some unwanted pain in the ass.

“Then you go to jail.”

“That’s bullshit!” he roared.

Ryan simply shrugged. “That’s the deal.”

“So, I’m going to be stuck with someone who can hold jail over my head?”

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Ryan demanded, actually having the balls to sound offended.

“At the moment? Yes.”

“I made it a condition that she didn’t know.”

Hunter shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you fucked me over like this.”

“Hold that thought,” Ryan said, taking another step back.

“What?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“You also have to see an anger management therapist while you’re under house arrest,” Ryan added when he felt that there was enough space between him and the bars.

For a moment, he could only stare at the man he planned on killing with his bare hands. Then finally, he decided to set the man straight.

“Are you fucking crazy? I don’t have a fucking anger management problem!”





Chapter 1


April 23rd.

“This can’t be right,” Kylie murmured as she pulled to a stop in front of the large two-story brick house that looked like it belonged in an Animal House movie instead of the affluent neighborhood that it was smack dab in the middle of.

Frowning, she looked back down at the address written on the thick yellow envelope that the Prosecutor’s office had sent over three hours ago and frowned. The address matched, but this couldn’t be the right house. There was no way that this was Hunter O’Malley’s, C.E.O of O’Malley Enterprises, house.

This had to be a mistake, she realized just as the convertible filled with scantily clad women behind her laid on the horn, demanding that she get out of the way. No, this definitely wasn’t the house, she mused, deciding that perhaps she was on the wrong street. She drove to the end of the street and frowned when she saw that it was, in fact, the right street.