That hits a little too close to home. There’s no way Chad knows about our deal or where we met though, so it must have been just a lucky guess.
What I’m thinking must be reflected on my face because Chad’s grin grows even wider. “No one is going to believe you, Zoe. Even the cops know all prostitutes are asking for it.”
I look to Bry, needing him to back me up here. He walked in on the whole situation. He’s a perfect witness.
Reaching up, he rubs his hand down his face and groans, and I just don’t fucking get it.
Then he looks to Ariel and says, “Let’s call off the police. We’ll have to handle this matter privately.”
“What the fuck?” I blurt out.
He can’t be serious… I must have misheard him.
Bry’s flick to me, then away again.
Tapping away on her phone, Ariel bobs her head.
“You’re just going to let him get away with it?” I ask Bry in disbelief. “Let him walk out of here and deal with him in private?”
Chad’s grin turns smug, and after everything this asshole has done to me today my fist aches with the need to connect with his face.
When Bry doesn’t respond I almost lose my shit. “You’re going to let him get away with calling me and treating me like a whore? Seriously?”
Bry’s lips thin and he refuses to meet my eyes.
It makes no sense. No fucking sense at all.
Slowly, I approach him, trying to read his face. Suddenly, the man I thought I knew so well has become a mystery to me.
“He called me a whore, Bry. A whore,” I say, and each time I say the word Bry slightly flinches.
I still don’t get it at first then it hits me. He can’t… he can’t… But it’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Oh my god… you think I’m a whore…”
Bry’s eyes finally meet mine and it’s right there.
I. Can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
How could he think that about me? How could he?
All at once everything clicks into place. Everything makes sense. The way he acted when he picked me up… the offer he made…
Those weird questions he asked.
The money. The fucking huge amount of money.
I’m stupid. So fucking stupid.
So many emotions crash into me, I feel absolutely crushed under the weight of them.
“Zoe,” Bry says apologetically, and tries to reach for me.
I shake my head and jump back.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I manage to get out with my voice only slightly cracking.
I start to retreat, the world swirling around me. Somehow this has turned into a living nightmare. I was attacked, and the man I thought was my prince has shown that he’s not a frog… He’s a fucking monster.
“Zoe, please…” Bry says again, making another grab for me.
“I’m not a fucking whore, Bry. How could you…” I gasp at him, and then the tears I’ve been holding back break free.
With the world closing in on me and no one to protect me, I do the only thing I can think to do as my heart shatters into pieces.
I run for safety.
Twenty-Two
Bryce
My mind starts screaming move, move your fucking feet. Turn your hips. Do something, anything.
What the fuck is wrong with my body? Why the hell can’t I move? I watch helplessly as Zoe leaves my side, the very side I swore she would never leave again.
Is this shock? It must be shock. It’s the only that explains the complete loss of control.
Fuck, I’m such a stupid fool. A fool who should have known…
Zoe is not a prostitute. She’s not a fucking prostitute and I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the world.
Finally, after berating myself, my ability to move fucking returns.
Turning, I race after Zoe. I try to catch her before she reaches the elevator, but I don’t make it in time.
“Fuck!” I growl loudly.
Slamming my finger on the call button for the elevator, I stare up at the numbers as they take her further and further away from me.
Whipping around to face the sound of feet pounding behind me, I see Ariel followed a smirking little shit-stain of a human being.
I still can’t figure out for the life of me whether I should hire out a hitman on this vile piece of shit or if I should crush his throat with my bare fucking hands.
“You’re going to go under after I’m done with you. I’ll fucking own this goddamn company. You’ll be lucky I don’t fucking sue your whole damn life away!” Chad snarls in my face.
His red, bulbous nose mere inches from mine, I smell toxic fumes coming from his mouth. The fucker has had a couple of shots of bourbon.
“Chad, just try it. She’s not a prostitute, you insignificant pile of shit. Which reminds me, head to HR. This will be done officially. Sue me, I dare you,” I grin and turn to face Ariel.