Hate and grief and regret.
Everything whirled, walls spinning faster.
I struggled to breathe as I shot blisters of hatred from my tongue. “Something great in me? The only thing you saw in me was a scapegoat. The days of my doing your bidding are numbered.”
He laughed like everything I’d just said didn’t matter. Like I didn’t have a say.
We both knew I didn’t.
If he went down, I was going down with him.
“Have those documents on my desk by five.”
The line went dead, and I tossed my phone to my desk and propped my elbows on the wood. Digging my fingertips into my eyes, I tried to stop the visions.
The memories.
The smell.
“Wake up. Please, wake up.” Hands shaking. A cold sweat. Nausea rolling. Vomit on the floor.
I bit down against them, letting the anger surge in to take their place. Focused on Bennet. God, I detested the piece of shit in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.
Dirty.
Just having an association with him made me dirty.
I knew that I was.
A demon.
The devil.
A light tapping sounded at my office door.
I dug my fingers a little deeper into my eyes to try to quell the sting, voice scraping as I tried to keep it level. “I’m busy, Marcus. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
My executive assistant knew well enough when to step away and not interrupt.
So, I rocked back in surprise when my door snapped open anyway.
That surprise shifted to a straight shot of disbelief.
Shock and anger and relief.
A tidal wave of that crazy energy flooded across the floor. My mind was rejecting the fact that she was standing there.
Part of me wanted to shout at her to get the fuck out. To scream that I didn’t have time to play games, that I didn’t want to listen to a goddamned thing she had to say, but my body was definitely on board.
I could still feel her on my skin. Taste her on my tongue.
My dick twitched, and I swore beneath my breath.
Not good.
Fuck me if I was going to let this girl have the upper hand.
She stood in my doorway, wearing a floral wrap-around dress that hugged all those curves and a pair of heels that made the girl look like she stood a mile-high, tall and proud and somehow vulnerable.
All those lush waves were twined in a neat knot on the back of her head, and she was gripping a big black bag she had slung over her shoulder.
Still, everything was completely off from yesterday.
Like she’d gone to a different place.
That energy alive, but brimming with hesitation.
Disturbed.
Confused.
Purposed at the same time.
Anxiety fisted my guts.
She pushed her way in, lifting her delicate chin like she was trying to make a statement that she had every right to be there.
Shit.
She was pretty.
So damned pretty that I could physically feel some of those hard spots going soft, and my heart was doing some stupid, wayward thing, beating faster than it should. Getting caught up in her presence.
With my hands planted on my desk, I pushed to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
Why did you leave?
Did I fuck it up already? Were you terrified of me last night? Did I prove just what an asshole I am?
She snapped the door shut behind her and eased deeper into my office, chewing on that bottom lip that I had half a mind to kiss. To just grab her and kiss her senseless the way she was driving me.
And that right there was the very reason I should turn my back. Tell her to walk.
Nerves blazed across that soft flesh, and she anxiously twisted her fingers. Then she was taking a desperate step forward and watching me with those eyes.
They were like looking into a bottomless aquarium.
Diving into the deepest sea.
“I need your help,” she rasped, the words so tight and emphatic that they sank in and took hold.
Possessiveness swelled. So fast, I felt consumed by it. Suffocated by the need to hunt down any fucker who might have hurt this girl.
Anyone who’d even had a single thought about doing something that would harm her.
I’d known it from the start.
This girl had been running.
If that was the reason she’d left last night? Someone was going to pay.
“Anything.”
Shit.
What was I saying?
But the promise was out before I could reel it back in.
My fucking resolve shot. Emotions tossed from one extreme to the next.
Hate. Hope. Lust. Anger.
Her gaze flashed in adoration.
The girl was looking at me like I could be her hero.
Her savior.
When the only thing I’d ever done in my life was destroy the things around me.
She took another pleading step forward until I was inhaling her, pink sugared petals pressed to my nose.
“You’re an attorney,” she said.
A statement.
I raised my arms out to the sides, irritation latching onto the word. “Obviously.”
Unease stirred. A feeling climbed my legs, telling me that I wasn’t going to like what she’d come to ask of me.