Monster 2

Monster

“Is it done?”

As usual, Fang didn’t mess around with polite greetings. Usually, I was all for his bluntness but there was something about the way he asked that grated on my nerves. What did he think I was? A total amateur? Of course, it was done.

“Yeah, it’s done.” I flopped down on the chair opposite him, his giant clutter-filled desk between us, and ignored his raised eyebrow. “What did you think I was doing, partying on club dime and not doing my fucking job?” The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them.

Chatting shit to Fang was always a dangerous move. And usually, I showed him the respect he deserved as my club president, but sometimes I slipped up.

“Wasn't the club paying for your little holiday, Monster.” Fang’s voice was unusually calm, almost cheerful sounding, and it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was happy. His lips kept trying to do this strange thing that I suspected was a smile.

Fang happy?