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Celia’s insides twisted as the people around them seemed to close in. She willed her feet to move, but they had locked up on her.
“I mean, she’s already nothing to hold on to, but hell, even a stick should move a little. It was like fucking the dead.”
Trenton’s arm left her shoulders, and the chill from before spread at the loss.
Then her eyes lifted in time to see him punch Daniel in the face.
Chapter 18
Trentonpunchedtheidiotfiancé again, a sense of satisfaction running through him as the man’s eyes widened in panic.
“Trenton!” Celia grabbed his shoulder, tugging on it. “Trenton, stop!”
Realizing what he’d done, Trenton’s next swing froze. He blinked down at the man before scrambling off.
The fiancé rolled to his side, spitting out blood. At least the sneer had faded when he stared up at them. “You’re as crazy as she is.”
Celia’s hand trembled against his arm, and Trenton moved in front of her to block her from view.
“Let’s just go,” she said, the words flat and soft at his back.
“Yes, go.” Daniel coughed as he tried to sneer, blood from his split lip making it less than intimidating.
Trenton winced, remembering all the times he’d told Malcolm violence wasn’t the answer. “You don’t want to press charges?” Trenton glanced at all the eye witnesses to his loss of control. “It’s within your rights to report my actions to the police.”
Celia’s former fiancé glanced at the murmuring crowd. “I said leave.” His eyes narrowed on Celia. “I’ll get a restraining order if I see you again, you crazy bitch.”
Celia paled, and Trenton wished he had hit the man more. Malcolm would have made a smear of him on the ground.
Trenton stepped toward Daniel, but Celia grabbed his hand. He turned away instead, noticing the shopping bag she’d dropped during the commotion. He picked it up. “This is yours, right?”
Celia blinked at him, then nodded. Her shoulders hunched at all the continued stares.
Trenton ushered her out, and his arm moved around Celia as the automatic glass doors slid closed behind them. She tensed at his touch, so he dropped it to point toward where he had parked. She scrambled into the passenger seat before he could open her door.
The silence didn’t feel right as he backed out of the space and drove toward the condo. “I’m sorry I was gone so early this morning.”
Celia stared out the window. “It was for work. I understood.”
Trenton winced, flexing his aching knuckles. He hadn’t needed the files. He’d gone because there had been a part of him that had really wanted to see her. To check on her, he’d tried to tell himself, but he’d run to the office knowing it was a lie.
“How did you know I would be there?” Celia asked.
He glanced at her, but she was still looking away. Her fingers pulled at the rubber band on her wrist. “I didn’t. Sunday tends to be the day I grab groceries. I texted you to ask if there was anything you wanted.”
“Oh,” she said.
She remained silent on the elevator ride up to the condo. After they entered the front door, he moved to the kitchen, putting the bag of groceries on the counter.
“I’ll put the food away,” she said.
“I can help,” he offered, reaching toward the bag, but her hands grabbed his.
Celia stared at his bloody knuckles.
Trenton still couldn’t believe he’d hit the man. “Oh, right. I’ll get cleaned up first.”
Only she didn’t release him. “Where’s the first aid kit?” she asked, still staring at his hand.
