Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

83 - Rebecca

Jax was stood in the middle of the studio room when I arrived, three other people stood in front of him. I could tell easily that it was Helen, Maggie, and Lewis being debriefed on what they had to do. All of them had frozen when I'd gotten high enough on the stairs to see them. The three with their backs to me had stiff shoulders, planted feet, and guarded postures. Jax, on the other hand, was as loose as jello. His hands and legs were shaking, his face covered with an expression of fear.

"You better have found those fucking designs." I snarled lowly, creeping barely forwards. He knew he was dead if he hadn't found them, but now he had to worry about the rest of the team, too. I tilted my head to the side. "You know it won't be pretty if they're still missing."

"Um..."

"Jax, tell me they are not still fucking missing. For your sake."

"Um..."

I growled and threw the nearest thing—a sketchbook on Helen's desk—across the room. It hit the wall with an echoing crumple of paper and fell to the floor with a thump. I couldn't find the words to explain to them how angry I was. I had finally, finally made the studio more than just somewhere I could go and yell at people; finally made Jax sit on the border between my good and bad books, and he had ruined it all. Designing had become a part of my life again. I didn't want it to be anymore.

Jax, though he was terrified of me, managed to find some remnants of his voice that didn't come out in 'uh' or 'um', though it still broke. "W-We came up with an idea." He whispered faintly. "In case we can't find the designs."

"What, design some other piece of shit? The only fucking good designs you've ever ma—"

"Ms. Woods." Jax had some balls interrupting me, and that was why I shut up and let him talk. Speaking my language. "That wasn't our only good design... remember? The one we made for... for you." I had to admit that he was right. "A-And we know you designed more from that. What if... what if you sent those to Mrs. Woods instead?"

My blood was boiling, but I secretly liked his idea. Having my work—good work, may I add—sent to my mother under the promise of being good was tempting.

Jax continued, realising I was listening for once. "Including our design, you could present your line as a representation of this studio—of us. Instead of our designs. That's... the best idea we can think of right now. We know your designs are worthy"—kiss ass—"so we know it wouldn't be a loss."

"That doesn't fucking change that you lost some designs," I growled.

"No, it doesn't. But it... makes it better?" Jax was trying his hardest to make this situation better for himself and his teammates, though I just couldn't find it in me to calm down now. There was too much that was riding on my shoulders, weighing me down with frustration. Colby, this, the car. Little things that just pummelled me mercilessly into the ground.

I glowered at Jax, then at the others. "Find the designs. I want you searching until fucking midnight. If you don't find anything, expect your jobs to be reviewed and questioned. Blame Jax if you think it isn't your fault." I paused, glancing at the door to the stairs. "I'll be in my fucking office."

No one said anything to me or about me as I stormed passed them all, flying down the stairs. I noticed the door to the break room was open, but no one was in there and there was no sign that Jax had been sleeping here again. I had to question at least a little why he had been here to realise the missing status of the designs, but I couldn't handle more anger tonight.

However, there was always room for more. My office door was open. No one, no one but me had the key to that door. Not even mother, even though this used to be her office. I'd had the locks changed the moment she handed it down to me. But there the door was, wide open to let out all the beautiful scent of rustic the room held.

I moved quickly through the open doorway, my gaze darting around for any sign of something being stolen. My heart was admittedly pounding in my chest as I stared at the project folders on the shelf—what if someone had stolen the made designs and my designs? I didn't know if I could ever forgive myself for leaving something so important in my office unguarded.

Since when had I considered my designs important?

They were all there, and I couldn't stop the sigh of relief that blew out of my lips as I placed the folders delicately back onto the shelf. I turned to the drawers and searched them all, but I found nothing to be missing. I noticed that Blair's employee file was gone, though I vaguely remembered planning to throw that away anyway; she wasn't an employee here anymore in my eyes.

After a thorough search of the room, I examined the door handle for any sign of trauma. It looked like nothing was wrong; as if someone had used a key. But then a breeze made goosebumps flutter down my arm and I turned to the window. It wasn't open, per se, but it wasn't closed either. My whole body seethed. I stomped up to the window and peeked outside. Nothing was out of place except a couple of branches of the bush beneath my window crushed.

Mother fucker.

I slammed shut the window all the way, locking it—I supposed I had never locked it before. I sprawled out the black clothing designs on the desk, deciding whether I would or would not present that line on behalf of the whole studio. Technically, they had been completely and utterly inspired by the design the others had made for me. I may have been a bitch, but I gave credit where credit was due. Lines like the red, sexy one were entirely mine; this was not.

I made my mind up and, a second later, I was yelling for Jax to get his ass downstairs. Suddenly, finding the other designs wasn't so important.