Page 84 of Ice Devil

The text had been delivered, even read.

But not answered.

The pain was agonizing.

Since sending it, I’d tried to convince myself not to send another. What would be the point? Hopefully, he just needed time to cool off. I had to believe he’d headed back to Portland or maybe Seattle.

Maybe time was what we both needed.

After tossing my phone, I shifted my gaze toward Matt’s closed door. Time. I had time on my hands, which could be used as a weapon. What I needed was information, proof that I’d been used as a pawn.

If I found what I needed, the bitch mode would be on full display.

A part of me said I should just go home and continue drowning my sorrows in lots of wine.

But I couldn’t do it.

Nope. Grabbing my purse, I dug through the contents until I found what I was looking for. My Swiss Army knife. I’d carried it with me for years. A girl shouldn’t walk a big city street alone without protection.

Only this time, the small knife would come in handy for an entirely different reason.

As I headed to Matt’s office, I glanced around the expansive room. They’d all left for their fabulous lives. Well, I’d made a solid attempt at forming one of my own. Only the bastard who normally took up space in this office didn’t deem that life worthy of my potential.

Or perhaps the man was just jealous I’d lost interest in him.

That’s what happened when a man sold his soul.

Little did Matt know I had several hidden talents, one of which was forcing doors to unlock. Stories must be told after all.

The blade fit perfectly and with a little twist of my hand, the lock slipped. Once inside, I kept the door open so I could detect any movement and headed to his desk.

I flicked on his cozy desk lamp and went to work searching his drawers. The only thing he kept locked was the door and that was likely because he kept his prized golf clubs behind it.

Never tear a man away from his ability to play his game of golf.

A snicker developed as I continued searching. There was nothing of value in his desk.

Other than two condoms and an invitation to a kink club.

Ugh. There were certain things I didn’t need to know about the man.

I hit the spacebar on his computer. Of course the screen popped up for a password.

Huh.

What were the chances he’d used the same one from all those years ago. It had been the last four digits of his phone number, something his mother had drilled into him. I’d teased him relentlessly about changing his passwords every so often for security.

He hadn’t taken my advice, which meant a couple of years ago I’d found out more information about his extracurricular activities than any on again, off again girlfriend should.

Including that he’d been cheating on me.

I typed in the numbers and voilà, his lesson hadn’t been learned.

After a few keystrokes and finding nothing, including very little work done over the last few months, I switched to his email and the archives.

Matt also wasn’t very good at cleaning out his trash.

When would he learn?