She straightened her back and folded her hands in her lap. Her silence was comforting, oddly encouraging.
I dragged a boot over the concrete between our bikes. “It’s unjustified. I know this. She didn’t leave me by choice. It wasn’t her fault I had no family. But she left all the same. Left me with nothing but this anger.” My chest tightened, my arms constricting around my torso. Pissed off thirteen-year-old boys didn’t make friends in boys’ homes. It was a wonder Benny put up with me. “I’m afraid it made me a bit of an asshole.”
“Hmm. Is that an apology for being a dick the other night?”
I was sorry for every goddamned thing I’d done to her. “Yeah.” I wanted so badly to uncross my arms and pull her against me, but I'd told her I wouldn’t move my hands. “Your turn. Something personal.”
Her helmet tilted back, staring at the concrete supports of the overpass. “I hate high heels. Hate the way they make me feel. Everything they stand for.”
No shit? I glanced at the scratched-up black boots on her feet, considering her response. I expected her to say something about her wretched mother, but somehow her answer seemed more intimate and revealing than anything she could’ve said about her family.
I’d seen her glide across a nightclub, tall and confident, her sexy heels an extension of her compelling aura and beauty. I’d assumed she chose them because she loved the effect they had on those watching her. They’d certainly affected me on the dance floor.
“And snakes.” Her voice hardened, her visor lowering to stare at her hands. “I hate snakes.”
I had a very bad feeling that was metaphorical. Was she referring to Evader or the man who stole her job in the most vile way?
Fighting the swallow in my throat, I chose my words carefully. “The kind of snake who leaves a gorgeous woman unsatisfied in an elevator?”
She snorted. “No, not you. I was thinking of the spineless snake I work with. The kind that is charming to your face then unsheathes its fangs when you turn your back.” Her helmet angled away, pointing down the road. “Never trust anything that swallows its prey alive and whole.”
Hard to ignore that direct hit. It cut my air and scorched the back of my throat. But I swallowed it down, let it stab through my chest. God knew I deserved it.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “That just gave me an idea.” Lifting her sleeve, she checked her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
Why did I feel like I just missed a really important punch line?
She started the ignition, rolled forward, and glanced at me over her shoulder. “See you around, Evader.”
Then she bolted forward, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust and confusion.
Until I walked into my office on Monday morning.
19
Logan
It was seven in the morning when I dragged my feet down the corridor of my very own wing on the executive floor, messenger bag strapped across my chest and coffee in hand. As much as I’d rather be on my bike than suffocating in a suit and tie, there was no sense whining about it. I’d worked myself into this position, after all.
At the double doors of Trenchant's most prestigious office, the cornerstone of power and evil, my attention caught on the plaque on the wall.
Logan Flynt scrawled in pretentious cursive, glazed in lacquer. It was official. I was the CEO asshole of dirty corporate assholes.
Once I ended the reign of corruption, what would become of Trenchant and the thousands who worked here? In a perfect world, Kaci would be innocent, and she would assume the leadership role and rebuild an ethical company. But the world was far from perfect.
As I pushed open the door and crossed the room, my attention was drawn to the ceiling. Why were the motion sensor lights already on?
Ten feet away, the desk moved. Like the entire fucking surface squirmed. I slammed to a stop, slopping coffee onto my sleeve and burning my hand. “Goddammit.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Snakes. They crawled over the desk, the keyboard, and the organizer thingie that held pens and shit. A couple snakes tumbled onto the floor, and like a big pussy, I shuffled backward, spilling more coffee.
I spun in a circle, scanning the floor around my Chucks. No snakes. Releasing a breath, I took in the rest of the office, the couches, the potted plants in the corners, and the bookshelves at the far end. A few slithered at the edges of the room, but they weren’t pouring out of the vents or anything.
The wriggling black bodies concentrated on and around the desk. Maybe three or four dozen, each about a foot long and thin as a pencil. I could imagine her dumping them all right on the desk and lifting that daring chin as she marched out.