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ChapterFifteen
MIA
I’m not sure what irks me most, that therapy today left me more tied up in knots inside, or Christian insisting on waiting for me on the entirely—according to him—premise my car isn’t working.
The car he did something to.
Or, let’s face it, he had one of the family goons do something.
And my brother turning up unannounced?
I can’t even with that.
With a sigh, I look at the papers and receipts next to my computer at work and pick one up, trying to concentrate. But I just crumpled the top one in my hand. Damn it.
Everything is a mess.
The girls are jittery over what’s happened to Ellie, and I don’t blame them. With the attack happening so close to here, of course, they are. I know they’re all thinking it could be them.
But I made sure that even during daylight hours, they’re escorted here. And extended the escorting after their shifts not to cars but home.
It’s small, but the least I could do. At least I got that set up with Reaper and Angel today. I should have done it the moment Ellie got hurt.
He doesn’t knock, but I look up as Christian comes into my office. He leans against the wall, looking at me from behind low-lidded eyes. “Should you look so tense after your therapy?”
I try and control the twitch that runs like a live wire through me, lighting up at his words. “Should you be standing about when you have a job?”
“Sweetness.” He smiles. “You’re my job.”
Those words don’t make me feel better. Just like him knowing I was at therapy makes me angry. I don’t know why it angers me, because he knows I go. It’s just . . . I guess . . . him waiting for me.
That and the fact therapy doesn’t seem to have any answer for a question in the shape of a man like Christian.
Or, as my therapist put it, maybe I don’t know exactly what the question is that makes me struggle for an answer.
I glare at him. “I hear the local Burger King is hiring.”
Christian laughs. I do not.
He’s too close. Too far away. He can reach inside me and touch places no one should be able to. He can see me. All of me. And we haven’t even been naked together.
We’ve had sex, and it’s the most exposed sex. Hard and fast and deep and everywhere. And all my clothes are on. Yet I was so naked.
It doesn’t make sense.
Sleeping with him, or should I say, having sex with Christian is a mistake. It was a mistake I can’t let happen again. I’m a job. He just said so.
More than that, I shouldn’t want to fuck him. And I don’t know why he wants to have sex with me. I get the first time. He’s a manwhore. But more than that? The things he said? Is that pity?
And why the hell do I feel guilty over the manwhore accusation? He’s fucked his way through countless women. He doesn’t have a history of relationships, either.
I breathe out, struggling to hold myself together.
Hell, I can hear my therapist in my head, telling me just to step back from it all and work on myself. Heal.
Yeah, right. With this man here? He rips things open, not suture them up. He’s there when I don’t want him to be. The man is a pain in my ass, and I need him gone.
“Nice try, but you’re not going to get rid of me that quickly. Not even with such an enticing fucking offer.” Christian folds his arms but otherwise doesn’t move.
