Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Behind her back, Cam was holding up the first aid kit, and I held up a finger to him, begging for a minute. “Why just grab me, shove me into a wall, and run?”
“My best guess right now is that it’s just to scare you,” I told her.
“Who would hate me that much, though?” she asked, losing some of the sadness, replacing it with fire. “I try really hard to be fair and kind to everyone. I don’t have enemies. I try not ever to fuck anyone over, even in business moves.”
Oh, yeah, she was getting heated if she was cursing. She was usually so careful with how she spoke, never wanting to seem like she was anything other than well-bred and well-raised.
“This isn’t on you. This is on the asshole who is doing this to you,” I assured her, pulling back so I could wipe her cheeks. “You know that.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, taking one slow, deep breath.
“Okay. Sit,” I said, pushing her onto her desk as I waved Cam in. “Let me clean that up. You might have bruises tomorrow. But if that bothers you, there is some good makeup that can cover it up,” I told her as I opened the first aid kit to find the cleaning wipes and the triple antibiotics. “Cam, are you busy right now?” I asked.
“Not particularly.”
“Can you compile a list of all current and past employees of this company, but have two separate lists for me.”
“Yeah, of course. That’s easy enough. We keep very detailed records. You think it could be someone here?”
“I’m not writing off any options right now. I don’t like the timing of this attack, so I want to look for any red flags around here.”
“If you want, I can also flag some people who have just been a little… problematic,” Cam offered.
“Yeah, but give me details on how they’ve been difficult,” I said, wincing when Miranda let out a whimper as I cleaned the deeper of the cuts.
“Can do,” Cam said, jotting down notes. “I can have all of that to you by the end of day,” he said.
“Appreciate it. Okay, this shit is medicated, so the sting should stop,” I told her as I added the triple antibiotic to some gauze and blotted it to the cuts. “Do you have any important meetings?” I asked.
“No. But I’m not going home either.”
“Why not?” I asked, just barely resisting the urge to sigh at her stubbornness.
“Because if this was someone here, or around here, I don’t want them to think they scared me away, that they won. Even in a small way.”
Okay, well, I had to respect that.
It was important not to let your enemies know they’d even gotten a small victory over you.
“Alright. But stay here, okay?” I demanded. “And by here, I mean in this office. With a couple dozen eyes on you at all times.”
“I can do that,” she agreed, looking relieved to have at least the illusion of safety.
“I am going to be around as well. I am going to check the street. Look for any cameras. If I find them, maybe bribe the footage from the building owners. See if I can come up with a face.”
“Okay,” she agreed, shoulders relaxing at the idea that I was going to be nearby. “And then I will ride home with you. No more going anywhere alone.”
“Agreed,” she said immediately. “Hey Brock?” she called as I made my way to the door.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for coming when I called.”
This was where I was supposed to say something like That’s the job or That’s what you pay me for.
But I didn’t want to make the distinction.
“Anytime you call me, baby, I will come.”
And with that, I was out. Before I could say anything else that was going to further muddy an already murky connection between us.
I had to try to focus on the job.
No matter my growing feelings for the client.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Miranda
I hadn’t been that hurt.
Just… terrified.
I mean, it was every woman’s worst nightmare to be grabbed and pulled down an alley. Your mind couldn’t help but run through all the horrific things that could possibly happen to you when someone with bad intentions got you alone.
I’d never felt bone-deep terror like I did in that moment or two.
Sure, waking up in a hospital, confused, then being forced into a psych hold had been its own horror show, but at least I knew I was safe in that scenario.
Being grabbed and slammed against a wall was a whole other thing entirely.
I swear my mind raced through fifty different scenarios so fast I felt like I was spinning. It overwhelmed me so entirely that I didn’t even think to scream. Not that a scream would necessarily mean anyone would come to my aid. People were routinely attacked on crowded subways and no one did anything about it.