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“Uh-huh.”
“Can you just not bully the only female friend I’ve ever had?”
There’s desperation in her tone that makes me pause my arseholish remarks. Gwen might as well be Anastasia’s only friend, too.
She’s that lonely and used to acting solo.
“I’m not bullying her, Gwen.” My voice softens a little.
“How can I be sure?”
“Because I like her.”
We both freeze at that, me more than her, because what the fuck am I saying?
“Ohhhh.” She grins. “That sneak Jane never told me. You must be the friend she’s staying with these days.”
So I’ve become a fucking friend now?
“I am. Now, can you tell me where she is?”
“She took her laptop and went to the fourth floor. Apparently, there’s a place she can focus there. I haven’t been to it, but Jane says…”
I’m striding out before she can finish her sentence.
“You’re welcome!” Gwen shouts behind me.
I don’t focus on her, because I’m on a mission to get to Anastasia. She must be in the supply room.
Ourroom at the firm.
No idea why that fills me with a strange type of energy.
The moment I arrive, I barge inside and pause in the doorway. Soft light bathes the room, which is different from when we’re usually here.
And the reason for the change punches me right across the face when I find Anastasia sitting between someone’s legs, unbuttoning his shirt.
Someone.
Not me.
Someone else.
As in, another fucking man who has his hand on her arm.
The man is Daniel and he’s touching what’s fucking mine.
My vision turns pure bloody red.
Red like I’ve never experienced.
Red like I’ve never seen before.
Something inside me crashes, splinters, and blasts into a million fucking pieces.
And in the midst of the blinding, searing pain, only one thought remains.
The need to fucking hurt.
