Alpha's Irresistible Neighbor

By: J.P. Comeau

“I thought you said this was wrapped up in his ego, though.”

“I didn’t mean getting off literally, Mikkie.”

He sighed heavily, and I heard the pain in his breath. “Did you find anything in your digging and your research that could explain what in the fuck that question of his meant?”

I shrugged as I allowed the couch to eat me alive. “Could be that you turned his daughter down for a business grant.”

“It’s more personal than that. It feels more personal than that. He almost ruined my life. He took almost two years of my world away from me. You mean to tell me he did that over some grant program our company doesn’t even do any longer?”

I couldn’t deny his rationale. This was absolutely personal — on a level I’d never seen in the past. I mean, the man had never met his damn daughter before. At least, not to my knowledge, after all of the digging I had done on that man’s life. However, there was something else I hadn’t found. What was that something else that was making this man tick.

And I wanted to know what it was just as much as Mikkie.

“I take it by your silence that you agree with me?” he asked.

I reached for my beer and chugged the rest of it back. “Tell me why you’re calling.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I want you back in Peachland, or wherever you need to be in order to find me answers. I need to know what the hell happened. I need to know what I did so that I can make sure this never happens again.”

The man sounded desperate, and I hated it when good, powerful men ended up sounding desperate.

“You aren’t going to like what I charge for it,” I said flatly.

“Money isn’t an issue, you should already know this by now.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt not to assume.”

“I’ll pay you whatever it takes, Tom. I have a family to protect now, and a wedding that I’m planning, and a child on the way. I have to figure out exactly how that man got from point A to point Put-Me-In-Prison-For-The-Rest-Of-My-Life.”

I understood what he was trying to do. If he knew how it all came together in Gunther’s mind, then maybe there were steps he could take in the future that wouldn’t result in something like this ever happening again. I wanted to rattle off statistics. I wanted to tell the man that ninety-six percent of victims of psychopathy are never targeted by a psychopath again. I wanted to tell him that Gunther had a less than five percent chance of ever seeing the light of day again. I wanted to tell him that he was safe. That his family was safe. But, I’d worked with Mikkie for a long time at that point, and I knew that until he had all of the answers at his disposal, he wouldn’t stop.

His brain wouldn’t let him stop until he had what he needed.

“Tom?” Mikkie asked.

I cleared my throat as I pushed myself out of the comfortable cushions of my couch at home. “I’ll need a place to stay and access to all of the files I’ve already given you. I’ll have to pour back over them, so at the very least I’ll need copies.”

“Done, and done. What else?”

I stood to my feet. “I’ll also need a daily stipend of some sort that comes out of the total amount for my services. You know, for food and shit.”

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll issue you a temporary credit card in your name hooked up to my account. Limit of one grand a day. I’ll pay it off as necessary.”

I shrugged. “Works for me.”

“How soon can you get here?”

I made my way back into my bedroom. “You know I’m always packed. Just need to book a flight.”

I reached beneath my bed and pulled out a black duffel bag before I tossed it over my shoulder.

“Just sent you the confirmation email for your flight. I’ll send someone to pick you up and take you wherever you need to go. I’ll also send you some listings of some AirBnB places around here that are pretty nice. They should give you some good deals in rental prices, depending on how long this is going to take.”

I looked down at my naked torso. “I need you to promise me something, though.”

“Anything, as long as it gets you here.”

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