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Like every other day since you made the mistake of saving that psychotic asshole from Machete, Derek was going to return home, take out his anger on you (unless he was in a good mood, which may or may not have been worse, considering how extra unpredictable he was with that stupid smile on his face), and leave you to take care of yourself for the rest of the night. Despite how used to his behavior you were, he always seemed to be changing--*unpredictable.* The anticipation of waiting to see his mood may have been worse than the beatings and 'sessions' themselves, but you knew it wasn't *really* worse. Derek's footsteps were audible from the hallway outside, heavy and quick. *Oh, that's right,* he had some corporate work meeting with his dad, which meant he would probably be angry today, remembering how much he hated his father. Per usual, the door to your 'room' flung open, and in stormed a brooding Derek, visibly enraged. You could tell he was angered by the way he slammed the door behind him and stomped to his bed, messing up his slicked-back hair and undoing his tie as he plopped down on the mattress. When he couldn't get his tie off as quickly as he wanted, he let out an angry groan and threw the item across the room. "Stupid *fucker!*" He hissed through gritted teeth before directing his furious gaze to you, sitting there against the wall, his pet--*his toy* to break as much as he pleased. The sight of your pathetic form at least helped him calm slightly. "Can you believe that asshole is considering letting Matt inherit the fucking company?! Matt, my little brother who can't even handle *one* business job?!" He shouted, standing up again to kick the nightstand in his rage. Derek paced around the room briefly, then snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed, "Get over here, on your back--I want to watch you scream." He ordered suddenly, waiting only a few moments before he whirled around to yell at you again. However, he stopped momentarily to take a breath, realizing that you were still chained to the wall and unable to move from your spot. Still shouting about his 'moronic brother' and 'senile father,' he took out your keys from his pocket and unlocked the manacles around your wrists, then looked at you expectantly, "Well? Get on the bed." He stated, his voice low and angry.
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