Page 76 of Unlocked

Part of her was glad that it hadn’t progressed further than a quick finger-fuck from him. If he’d used what she suspected was a magnificent cock on her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to end this. She was, however, disappointed she didn’t get to return the favor. She’d joked that her mouth still worked, but he hadn’t bit. Well, any more than her breast, and her clit.

She lifted the pillow over her head, but that didn’t cut off the path her thoughts meandered down. She groaned and forced herself to stop thinking about how skilled Archer was. She had to, for sanity’s sake. She could come up with all the catchphrases and platitudes she wanted, but it was time to put on her big girl panties and face it like an adult. Lying in bed wasn't going to solve anything.

She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and waited. Her body ached. She was sore everywhere from where the would-be kidnapper had grabbed her and thrown her around. Her arms were bruised. Her legs, too. The headache, at least, had faded to something manageable.

Slowly, she got to her feet, held still until she felt balanced enough to move, and then went to her bathroom. She stood in the oversized shower, letting the hot water ease her muscle aches. Ease her heartache, too. Not that she was in love with Archer. It wasn't that kind of heartache. She dismissed the thought quickly. Just the idea of it scared her.

What she had come to realize was that she was grossly unhappy with her life. It wasn't what she wanted to do anymore. Not even where she wanted to be. She used to love New York in her younger years. It was fun. All her friends were here. They were always out doing things. But somewhere along the way, life had changed. She had changed. Or maybe she'd always been this way, and it had just taken her a while to discover it.

She was pretty sure her grandfather had known this would happen. He'd told her that if she worked at the family firm, she would make more money faster than if she started at the bottom somewhere else. She could use that money to do something else when she was done with the law.

She hadn't been persuaded.

Then he'd begged her to join the firm. Played on her family loyalty. Said it would help keep her parents in line.

Ha. That hadn't happened. She was supposed to be their conscience when he was no longer around. Bunny and Stuart didn't have solid morals or ethics when it came to clients and making money.

It didn't matter now anyway. She was done there. Telling her parents off had felt good, better than she'd expected. She was sure they were going to threaten to cut her off, cut her out of the firm. But she couldn't force herself to care. She made her own money, just like her grandfather had predicted, and she'd invested well. She could afford to quit and do something that actually meant something to her.

She stepped out of the shower, toweled off gingerly, and brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders. She couldn't bear to put it up with the bump still there at the back of her head.

She wanted to go to her apartment and get her things, but she clearly wasn't safe there anymore.

Archer was right that she had to trust someone at some point. After yesterday, she did trust him. He'd come for her. He'd replaced everything she'd lost without being asked. He'd had her back at the club when she'd chased the killer, and looking back, she could hardly believe how stupid she’d been, but she'd done it because she'd known he was right there behind her. So yes. She trusted him.

She sighed. There was no way he was going to let her go to her apartment alone. He’d already warned her that she’d have a round-the-clock security team, and truthfully, she was inclined to take him up on that. Had agreed to it last night, before…

She grabbed her phone and texted him.

You said you’d have Ryker pick up my files. Can you send him, please?

She was acquiescing, yes. But more than that, she was showing him she trusted him. Even if last night was an error in judgment, she wanted him to know she valued him and genuinely trusted him with her life.

Of course. Your files will be there this afternoon.

That was it. No ‘how are you, how's your head?’ Not even an emoji. She snorted. The idea of Archer sending heart emojis was beyond ridiculous. But he could have done something, anything, to acknowledge that last night had happened and that she was a person and not just a problem to be managed. She frowned at the screen. The lack of anything personal stung more than it should have.

She stared at herself in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes were going to become permanent if she didn't start sleeping soon. She looked tired and bruised and a little lost, and she didn't particularly care for any of it.

So what was she going to do until her files showed up?

Vince Kelly was here. It was time to talk to him.

She gingerly pulled on her jeans and a light blue button-down, rolling up the sleeves. The color brought out her eyes. She thought she might need to charm Kelly. She'd spoken to him a few times over the years, and he'd thrown her a glance or two that made it clear he'd be interested. The thought made her want to vomit a little, but if looking appealing made him talk, she'd take it.

Now she just had to find him.

She stepped out into the hallway and made her way toward the dining room. She walked in and nearly bumped into one of the servers.

"Daniela!"

"Miss Wellington, how are you?" Daniela's eyes went wide. "I heard you were hurt yesterday."

"I'm fine. Hit my head pretty hard, but I'm okay." She gave the other woman a wink. "I'm looking for two things."

"Glad to hear you are okay. I’m sure your father will be relieved. I know he was concerned when he was in here earlier. What can I help you with?"

Tatum frowned. Someone had told her father. Great. Just add it to the list of things he will be pissed about. She dismissed the thought. "Can I get a cup of coffee? And I want to know where Vince Kelly is staying. I know he's in the building."