Page 55 of Changing Lanes

“It’s gonna be okay, Torrie. See you, there.” One ends the call. I thought it would, not so much anymore.

I hurriedly dress, thanking the good Lord for the shopping yesterday. I have something decent to wear. Gray slacks, burgundy, off the shoulder, silk blouse with gray, suede booties and a high ponytail, I’m comfortable and ready to work.

I’m out the door and on my way by ten-thirty. I wasn’t expecting traffic to be this heavy. I’m a little frantic by the time I get there. I’m at the courthouse in the nick of time.

Grabbing my cell, I shove it in my bag and notice my father has called. I send a quick text as I walk through the door. Reading my father’s response, I walk straight into a wall. Dropping my phone and everything in my purse. The contents scatter, rolling in every direction.

“Shit.” Dropping to my knees, I gather as much as I can, ramming it back in my open bag.

“Here,” is all I need to hear to know it’s him. I jerk my things from his grasp.

“I can do it,” snapping at him.

“I’m sure you can,” he replies in a smug tone.

“How would you know?” I spit at him as he reaches more of my things to me.

“I guess I wouldn’t.” His words are no more than a whisper, making me glance up to get a check on his location to me. His hand is outstretched. Refusing his help, I stand on my own.

“I’ve got it, I’m alright,” I spit at him as I brush past.

“I can see that.” Glaring at him over my shoulder, I run into One.

“Fuck.” I grimace, the look on One’s face is priceless.

“Everything okay out here?” One asks, looking from me to Brannon.

“It’s fine. Dropped my bag,” I snap.

“All good. You ready?” Brannon replies.

One gives us another once over. “Okay. Let’s get this done and get you two away from one another.”

“Even better,” we answer together as I roll my eyes.

One and Hardy stand in the middle, while Brannon and I stand on each end of the counter as the papers are gone over and filed. Brannon has a few adjustments and addendums to make with no issues, as One said it would be. Once the papers are filed, I’m out the door.

I hurry to my SUV, trying to answer a few texts from work as I walk. I bump into doors and poles along the way. After tripping for the third time, I look up to see where I’m going. Brannon stands, leaning against my SUV. My eyes roll but my heart, it never listens—it skips a beat.

He hasn’t changed one damn bit. He’s got some swagger through the years, makes him even better. He’s wearing jeans and a tee shirt, which is stretched to its limit across his broad chest. His hair is shorter, giving it a wave.

His arms are impossibly bigger, the tats on his biceps look as if they could burst. His pecs are well defined through his shirt as is his thick, muscular thighs. His chiseled jaw begins to tick the closer I get. I’m not entirely sure if he’s pissed or nervous.

I come to a stop in front of him, running my eyes over him once again. Damn it, he still makes me squeeze my thighs together. I shift my stance, trying to garner some relief. When I do, his irises dilate, then he rubs his hands down his jeans. He’s nervous.

“Torrie, I’m sorry. I can’t begin to explain all that’s happened.” The tone in his voice pleading.

“I don’t care what has happened with you. I just want this project done and back home before my father finds out.” Glaring at him.

“Why doesn’t he know?” He steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I refuse to tell him. It’s my call, you don’t like? I don’t care.” I spit my words at him. His eyes barely a slit, he studies my words.

“Fine. If you ever want to hear the truth, I’m here. Other than that, I’ll just do my job and stay outta the way.” He turns to walk away.

“Should we ask your wife to join us or we just going to sneak around? You let me kiss you the other night, what are you thinking?” I yell after him. “You have a daughter, for fuck's sake, when did you plan on telling me?” He stops dead, spins around, marching right back up to me. Shit.

“Yes, I have a daughter. We could ask my wife if I had one, but I don’t. I know you’re hurt, but you need to remember, you weren’t the only one.” His nostrils flare, he’s pissed. I step closer to him so he can hear what I’m about to say and all the spectators can’t.

“What more is there to know? You fucked me, then you left with the first dollar to cross your palm. Damn straight, I’m hurt,” I seethe at him.

“Of course, you’re the victim. I don’t remember you wanting to hear the truth,” He spits back.

“Why? To see how you spent my father’s money.” It’s a low blow but well worth it.

“All this time, you never knew me. I’ve been as broken as you have, and I’ve told you I’m sorry but no more. Hell no,” he says quietly.

“You’re the one that struck a deal with the devil. So, if you don’t mind telling me, how the fuck did you get hurt?” I drop my arms to my side with my fists shaking.

“Don’t you just know it all. What the fuck? You corner the market in being hurt? Get your fucking head on straight, you know how this went down. You got hurt, and I got used to doing the dirty stuff.” His eyes soften but I don’t.

“Did you leave with the check?” asking as I put my hands on my hips. “Did you?” I demand.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even look ashamed.

“Exactly. You wanted the money, so you planned the entire thing.” Shaking my head, I feel so cheap.

“That’s all you know, isn’t it? Thanks for the fuck.” Looking disgusted, he walks away, never looking back.