“You had the money to buy in. I… share an apartment with my sister. I drive a Ford Focus.”
“I drive a truck!”
“But–”
She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a job offer, Jess. I’m just saying… we need an Alex clause.”
“Ugh!” I push her face out my door and slam it a second time. “No Alex clause!”
Alone again, I drop my tough act and limp back to my desk. I’ve been pretending all day, silently sobbing at the pain radiating along the length of my body. But now that I’m alone, holding an arm tight to my ribs, my shaking hands make themselves known.
Only eighteen hours ago, I was flat on my back in a dark alleyway with my legs held around a man’s hips and a knife pressed to my ribs.
I haven’t slept since. I haven’t eaten.
My hands shake from both shock and fatigue. Each time I closed my eyes last night, I cursed myself for handing Kane’s knife back.
There’s no way I can kill a man, not even a man who was seconds earlier going to kill me, but Kane knew what would happen as soon as I was home alone;I want you to do whatever helps you sleep at night. Tomorrow, when you’re all alone in your bed, I want you to feel safe and not wonder if he’s coming back for another go.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lance. I saw the promise in his eyes, his intention touseme, to dispose of me. I saw thelackof license in my purse – it’s gone – which means Lance knows where I live. I can’t even run away to a hotel and hide, because my sister lives with me; I can’t run and leave her alone.
Even having my brother in our apartment more often than not is not enough to slow my pulse.
Luc and Kari are always holed up in their room making kissy noises. Laine’s so flighty, in and out with her boyfriend.
Everyone does their own thing, but their inconsistent coming and going means I can’t run away, I can’t protect them.
Picking up Kane’s file one last time, I study his dark eyes. Dark brown, almost black.
Deadly… or dead?
I’m supposed to be scared of him. He’s supposed to be the embodiment of my worst nightmares, but in one single evening, one single stilted conversation, he became my unlikely hero.
Lance Donner was just another face, another name that passed through my reports, but he didn’t raise my flags the way Kane did – until the tables were turned and my choices werelet Kane save me, orlet Lance hurt me.
I’m not a damsel. I’ve taken self-defense classes at the local Rollin On Gym. I’m not an idiot.
But if Kane wasn’t there last night…
Slamming the plain manila folder closed, I drop it on top of a stack of others and grab my purse. I need to get a new license. But more importantly, I need to get my old one back.
Somehow.
Or move to Australia and hope none of my nosy family ask why.
Picking up my things, I swing my bag over my shoulder and palm my keys. Pressing one through each finger like a set of brass knuckles with a side of stabby, I flip the light switch as I pass through my office door and try to swallow down the panic that rushes through my veins.
Jules already left. Her office light is out.
Security won’t pass through until closer to midnight.
Moving down the lonely hallway, I flip switches and practically sprint to reception to outrun the shadows.
Stopping at the front desk, I check to make sure the phones are set to answering machine, then heft my things and stop at the alarm system.
Jules gets a text to say the alarms have been activated, and more than a few times, she’s called around eight or nine in the evening when she never received the text to ask why the hell I was still working.
Because I’m a workaholic with no social life outside dinner with my brothers.