I stepped onto the elevator that would take me up to my cubicle at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, already missing Max’s supportive hand on mine. He’d escorted me to my place this morning so that I could get ready for work. And I’d packed a bag for him to take to his place, where I’d be staying indefinitely.
Because my home wasn’t safe anymore. The place that was supposed to be a symbol of my independence after finally being freed from my dad’s overprotective shadow had been poisoned by fear and uncertainty. I hated the loss. I hated feeling weak and scared of the truths that I was reluctantly coming to accept.
My father had covered up the evidence of my mother’s murder. Max said his family had killed her. And Kelvin McCrae, one of my dad’s biggest donors and Gavin’s father, had helped him get rid of the autopsy and arson report that would’ve revealed the truth about the circumstances of her death.
As I rubbed my temples to clear a budding headache, the elevator doors opened. My stomach dropped when I nearly bumped into Mike in my painful haze.
His hands braced my upper arms when I stumbled, and his brow furrowed with concern.
“Are you okay?”
I blinked and tried to clear the tension from my features. “I’m fine, thanks,” I said as calmly as I could manage. My voice barely wavered.
He released me and stepped back, frowning down at me. “Come to my office.” He spoke gently, but it was still an order from my boss. I couldn’t refuse.
No matter how badly I’d rather bury myself in work and distract myself from all my problems.
I followed Mike to his office, trying not to drag my heels. Dread weighed heavier in my stomach with each step. He’d seen me fall apart last week when I’d first discovered the fact that Mom’s autopsy was missing from the official record. He’d ordered me to go home, and I’d complied out of desperation to escape his incisive gaze. Now, humiliation burned my cheeks. I’d fallen apart at work and made a complete fool of myself by sobbing in the break room.
When we reached his office, I automatically crossed the worn carpet and dropped into the chair across from his desk. The soft thump of the door closing behind me reverberated through my stomach, making me queasy.
I jolted when Mike rested a paternal hand on my shoulder. “Allie. Tell me what’s wrong. Is Gavin still bothering you outside of the office?”
“No.” I hadn’t seen my bully since Max had beaten him bloody, and I didn’t expect to see him ever again. Not after my fierce protector had scared him off.
To my shock, Mike dropped to one knee so that he could peer straight into my eyes; there was no hiding from his concern, his belief that I was too weak to handle this job. The job I’d dreamed of and worked toward for years. And now I was failing, falling apart.
My chest tightened, and to my horror, my eyes stung.
No no no. I couldn’t cry. Not in front of Mike. Not again.
Especially not when he was looking at me like this, his gray eyes intent on every nuance of my expression.
“You can talk to me, Allie.”
His hand rested on my knee, hot palm pressing against the inch of bare skin that showed beneath the hem of my skirt.
My brain went blank, and my mouth popped open in surprise as my stomach began to churn.
“You can trust me,” he urged, his voice roughening slightly. His hand slid up another inch, and he curled two fingers beneath my chin to lift my face.
My skin was chilled beneath his toxic touch. My mind scrambled to catch up. This couldn’t be happening. Not with Mike, my personal hero. He wouldn’t do this.
Then he leaned in, his mouth nearing mine. His hot breath fanned my lips, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
I shoved my hands against his chest, pushing him away and using the leverage to slide the chair as far from him as possible. In an instant, I was on my feet, edging back toward the door without taking my eyes off the predator in the room.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice shaking with horror and budding rage.
He took a step toward me, and I cringed away, moving closer to the door. He went still as a statue, his hand frozen between us where he’d tried to reach for me. All the color drained from his face, and he licked his lips nervously.
“We’ve been spending all this time together. I thought… You have to know that I care about you, Allie. Very much.”
“You’re sick,” I accused, bile rising in the back of my throat. “How could you do this?”
His outstretched fingers clenched into a fist, and his bushy gray brows drew together in an angry line. “You find excuses to spend time alone with me. You’re always in my office, making sure we have privacy. And the way you look at me. Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s been going on between us.”
My rage ignited, singeing my heart. How dare he turn this around on me?