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And, as I expected, Sterling gets stupid.
“You can’t do that!” His voice rises as he speaks to an unwavering Emma.
“I can and I am,” she says, crossing her arms.
I step forward, well aware that my next move might cost me everything - but sometimes safety demands sacrifice.
“Throw me out, then,” Sterling says to Emma. “I dare you to throw me out. And when you do, I’ll just move on to one of the other women lining up to do whatever I want them to.”
“How many women do you have tied up in your basement?” she asked, the words clearly leaving her lips before she can stop them.
He takes a step toward her and she flinches, but I’m not about to let him do a damn thing to her. I grab his shoulder and yank, spinning him to face me as his feet shuffle in a mad dance to keep him standing. We face one another and he sizes me up while I decide how to knock him down.
He lunges toward me, swinging his fists like sledgehammers with no grace, tact, or knowledge of how to fight. I step aside, letting his momentum carry him into a wall when he doesn't make contact with me. The drywall holds up under his impact, and I make a mental note to hire the contractors who worked on this building if I ever decide to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emma sliding along the wall toward the door. And when Sterling turns, he sees her leaving, too.
“You can’t leave,” he growls at her, lurching in her direction like Frankenstein's monster. His jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. But I step between him and his intended target. He stops before me, his eyes flat, cold, and mean. “Get out of my way,” he says, swinging at me with a sloppy right hook I easily duck.
His anger pours out of him in a grunt.
My anger, however, is firmly on lockdown. I’d learned a long time ago that fighting mad is the fastest way to lose. Instead, I keep my head level and watch for clues to his next move. He lunges at me and I use his momentum to my advantage, smashing my fist into his nose.
I feel the cartilage pop under my knuckles, feel skin tearing as pain reverberates up my arm. But the flash of pain is quickly swallowed up by a flood of adrenalin.
Sterling lets out a roar, falling to the floor and clutching his face as blood pours from his face and taints the air a sickly metallic flavor I’ve never liked. I glance around, looking for Emma, only to find she’s gone. But the door is open and I see her, security guys, and Anton all walking toward me.
A knot in the pit of my stomach tightens. Time to face the consequences. I’m going to jail. But as I look down at the tears and blood flowing down Sterling’s face, I know it’s worth whatever punishment I face.
Security take point on either side of Sterling and get him to his feet while Anton walks in, clasping his hands behind his back. I can see curious observers creeping close, but none dare to invade our space.
Anton turns to me.
“Another fight. Our agreement is now void-”
“He protected me. Sterling was about to... put his hands on me.” Emma speaks up quickly, her voice loud enough for half the people on our floor to hear, and I instantly know what she’s doing. Clever, clever woman.
Anton stops, clearly recognizing he’s been outplayed. I’d swear I see a slight smile on his lips as he speaks up, too. “I’ll hire more security to avoid incidents like this in the future.” With that, he gets ready to leave our office, but Emma calls him out.
“Your son protected me from serious bodily harm in your building,” she says, and Anton’s shoulders square up. “I think we owe him gratitude.” Emma turns to me. “Thank you, Clifton. I can’t even properly express how grateful I am to you.” Her eyes are filled with truth, and warmth spreads through my body like wildfire.
And she turns to Anton, who is watching us both with barely contained anger. “Thank you, Clifton,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I was just doing the right thing,” I say, wondering how many bridges are being burned for both Emma and me at this very moment.
Chapter Fourteen
Emma
The air inside the firm seems heavy and hard to breathe, yet I draw another deep breath and try to keep calm.
I stand shoulder to shoulder with fellow members of our firm as Anton gives a brief overview of the events to prevent gossip and whispers from spreading during work hours.
Despite knowing that the danger has passed, Sterling’s rage still echoes in my ears. I can hear his refusal to accept that I don't want to be with him, his anger when I told him I wouldn't cancel my plans, the absolutely unhinged look in his eyes.
Clifton drops into the seat beside me, and I nearly jump out of my skin in shock and fear.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says with a smile and concern in his eyes.
“I know,” I say with a nod.
