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“I showed up at the house. The fucker was hammering on the Julia. I jumped in and broke it up, but the asshole was lit. He must’ve been on something, crack, coke, meth.” He waves a bruised-knuckled hand. “I don’t know, but he was out of control. It took some time, but I eventually calmed his ass down with my fists. Not to mention, I did it with the Julia literally on my back.”
“What?”
“Yeah, face bruised and lip bleeding from her abuser, she comes to his defense, screaming for me to stop. She jumped on my back. Dug her finger in my eye. It didn’t detour me from hammering on him. The second the fucker hit the floor, she jumps down and comes after me with her claws. She was high on something too. Fucking junkies.” He shakes his head.
“What’d ya do?”
“I got the fuck out of there. I ain’t fightin’ no chick. I called Willa, and she said she’d take care of it. So I went home.”
“Damn.” I examine his face.
“Right. Fucked up. Has anything like that ever happened to you?”
“Fuck no. A Julia has never attacked me. It’s a new one.” I blow out. “A Julia protecting her abuser.” I wince at the scratches. “She got you good.”
“Right?” He runs a finger over the cuts.
“How the fuck are you going to explain ’em?”
“I’ll figure it out. Blame it on a disgruntled cat.” He chuckles, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Or I can go with your usual excuse. I got hit in the face with a beam. One with nails.”
“It always works.” I laugh, having no doubt he’ll come up with some crazy yet believable excuse. “You all good otherwise?”
“Yeah. He got a few shots in.” He rubs his stomach. “But nothing that won’t heal in a few days.”
“Ya let Brett know?”
“Last night.” He nods. “He was going to reach out to Willa to see what happened after I left.”
“Alright.” I scrub my hand over my chin. “Well, I’m going to head up. You need anything?”
“Nah.” He reaches for his cell.
I head for the door.
“Oh, hey. How’d the meeting go?”
I open the door and turn to look at him. “We got it.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Start next week, Monday.” I give him a thumbs-up before exiting the office.
I get up to my place, kick my shoes off, and grab a bottle of water. I should hit the gym, but Harper gave me a hell of a cardio workout earlier today. She had everything pumping.
The elevator door dings. My heart jumps, hoping it’s Harper.
I glance over, waiting.
The doors break apart.
Harper stands with her arms clutched around herself inside the box. Her embittered gazeandfragile formbring me to my feet.
I walk over, thrusting my arm to stop the doors from closing.
“What’s wrong?” Reaching in, I grab her wrist and pull her to me.
Her eyes blink rapidly. She presses her quivering lips together.
