Taking a deep steadying breath, I pull down on the handle and step into his dimly lit office. The dark furniture plus the dull lighting makes the room feel ominous and not at all welcoming. I am sure his clients wonder why the room is not illuminated properly. Niall sits there smug while barely acknowledging me. “What?”
Nerves wrack through me. I never know what he’ll say to me as I step over to his desk. The old bastard watches me intensely. He’s glaring, burning holes in the brave front I’m trying to portray.
“I need your signature, so I can send this report to the Anderson’s for finalization,” I tell him quietly while hobbling toward his desk.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? When did you become an invalid?” he asks sternly. I bite my lip and give him a blank stare—he’s so not worth it. “Why are you limping? I employ fit and healthy personnel to work for me. If the job’s too much, I suggest you leave.” Niall furrows his brows.
“I’m fine. Pulled a muscle,” I reply curtly.
He stands abruptly.
I take a step backward.
Dammit! Why do I let him affect me?
His menacing eyes narrow in on me. “You know you need to leave, don’t you?
“Why would I want to do that?”
He moves closer. “Because I’m going to make your life a living hell until you do, and what’s more, I will take great pleasure in it. I want you to quit, right now. And I want you to leave my son.”
Anger rolls through me as I straighten my shoulders, finding my strength. I look him squarely in the eyes having enough of his stupid asshole attitude. “You’ll be waiting an eternity for that to happen,” I grunt out.
He rushes forward right into my space. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” he yells, raising his hand like he’s going to slap me.
Jesus! Fuck! My heart leaps into my throat as I stumble backward in a panic. My heel tilts on its side forcing me to fall hard on my ass, my hands grazing, instantly getting carpet burn as the file flies across the carpet, spreading paper everywhere. My heart’s beating a million times a minute as the memory of Jason floods back.
Niall laughs a loud belly laugh as his tall, bulky frame leans forward, glaring at me on the floor. The dark aura circling around him is a sinister pool of hatred. It wraps around him, swallowing him in the evil that lurks inside his very soul.
Brielle rushes in to see me on the floor. She frowns at her father, who’s casually returned to his chair with an elated smirk on his face while Bree helps me up. “C’mon, Jeni, let’s get you fixed up,” she murmurs. She holds onto me as my hands tremble with the fear of being attacked again by another monster in the room, but Bree ushers me out of his office.
“And someone better clean up this mess!” Niall yells.
Brielle walks with me to the bathroom. Once inside, she holds me at arm’s length. Looking over my unsteady features. “Jeni, what happened in there?”
Exhaling, I tell her the truth. “He raised his hand, and I… I thought… he was going to hit me. So, I freaked out.”
“I’m sorry, Jeni. I’m sure father wouldn’t actually hit you. He probably did it to scare you more than anything,” she says, rubbing my back comfortingly.
Raising my brows, I nod. “Well, it damn well worked.” I’m disheartened that I let that old bastard get to me, again.
“I think you need to see someone sooner rather than later to help you control your fears. I’ll make that appointment for you ASAP.” Bree’s eyes are nothing but beacons of kind hope as she wraps her arm around my shoulder for support.
I agree. I need to see someone to help me get past this fear I have of men trying to hurt me.
“But in the meantime, you need to tell Aiden what’s happening before—”
“No,” I interrupt. “He doesn’t need to know.” Nerves flow through me at the thought of her telling her older brother.
“Jeni, you know he’ll be really angry if he finds out that Father raised his hand to you, and you didn’t tell him.”
“No, Bree.” My voice is firm, and she knows I mean business when I steady my shoulders.
Brielle purses her lips and exhales through her nose.
“Promise me? Promise me you won’t tell him?” There’s a slight desperation to my voice as my brea
thing quickens.