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The way Hashem acted towards her yesterday, had driven me wild with anger. It took me a day to understand my reaction to what happened. It’d been beyond me trying to protect a subordinate.
I wanted to gauge his eyes out for looking at her with lust in his eyes. It reminded me of the time when Kendall had been kidnapped and the animalistic look in my brother-in-law’s eyes when he’d been ready to lay waste to those men.
I never truly understood that desire to shed blood until I saw the petrified look on Halley’s face when Hashem had touched her.
Unable to handle these conflicted feelings inside of me, I turned around and had gone back to my work, studiously ignoring her. However, when she started making those small sounds of distress, my heart clenched and I looked up to see her brow furrowed, a terribly frightened expression on her face as she moved restlessly.
And then her scream. A desperate cry, a child’s plea, filled with terror.
I had jumped to my feet, and before I could even touch her, she shot up straight, her face clammy with sweat, her body shaking, her eyes wild with the sort of chilling fear that you only find in the deepest and darkest of your nightmares.
I’d seen the utter lack of recognition in her beautiful eyes as she had blindly stared at me.
After
this, I couldn’t find a glimpse of the woman who talked back to me and ignored me so cheerfully as she prattled on and on about God knows what. The Halley before me was a shadow of that woman, quiet and subdued in a way alarming to me. I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and drive away her nightmares and for once, staring at her vacant face, I didn’t care where that thought came from.
She followed me around like a lost child, holding onto my wrist, huddling into my coat as if my touch and my coat drove away her fears.
And now, here she is, back to acting like a petulant brat.
“You want to go dancing? At this hour?”
Halley crosses her arms across her chest.
I furiously suppress the desire to gaze at the way the gesture plumps up her breasts.
“This is when all the clubs are open.” She’s not scowling. In fact, there is a certain exhaustion about her as her eyes are tinged with desperation.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snarl. “I’m taking you home.” I stand up.
She glares at me now. “First of all, I never recall asking for your permission! Second, I need to do something to tire me out and that’s a good alternative than going home and staring at my apartment walls.”
“There are a million ways to burn off your energy than going dancing at two in the morning.” I grit my teeth, suddenly vehemently against the idea of her being surrounded by men groping at her body when it didn’t belong to them.
It didn’t belong to me either.
I dismiss the thought and see the anger rise in her eyes.
It’s a magnificent look on her.
“Name one,” she challenges.
Maybe it’s because my mind is filled with thoughts of her, or maybe it’s because I haven’t touched a woman in quite a few months, or it could simply be because I’m going insane, that I blurt out, “Sex!”
This takes her aback but she doesn’t step down from the argument. Her cheeks blazing, she half shouts, “You want me to go find some random person on the street and ask them to have sex with me because my boss thinks that dancing to work off energy is too mainstream for him?!”
I realize that I’m truly losing my mind when I mutter, “It doesn’t have to be a stranger.”
Her eyes grow wide as she opens her mouth and closes it, as if she’s unable to form the words. “Y- Are you volunteering?”
“No!” I want a sinkhole to open up under my feet and swallow me whole.
“Then what the hell are you saying?” There’s an odd quality to her tone.
My mind is a jumble of feelings and ideas with contradictions and desires. I can’t seem to sort them out with her standing in front of me. “Nothing,” I growl, running frustrated fingers through my hair.
“So you want me to have sex with a random stranger?”
