And Connor just smiled and wiped the blood away as if it was nothing.
Like he was used to it.
I'm almost to the elevators when voices drift around the corner. I ease closer, then peek around the bend. Mr.Callahan's standing in the middle of the hallway, jabbing his finger at the air while Veronica faces him, shoulders drawn back.
“—irresponsible of you, Veronica. This could have been avoided. You should have told me he was gay.”
“Don’t pin this on me. No one’s ever seen him remotely show interest in men before.” Veronica crosses her arms in front of her chest. “And Connor doesn't have to be gay, you know. He could be bi or pan or queer.”
“Sounds more like he’s playing games.”
He's not wrong.
Mr. Callahan straightens, hands in his pockets. “Your mother and I spoke. Benedict will step—”
“Ben isn't part of your business deals.” Veronica pokes her father in the shoulder. “I'll fix it.”
“And if you can't?”
The pause that follows makes my chest tight.
“Then we find another way. Just leave my brother out of it.”
“In this family, we all serve the greater good.”
Veronica snarls, then walks off. Her father shakes his head and follows. Once they’re out of sight, I step out and hit the button for the elevator. This day needs to be over.
When the doors slide open, I step inside and press the lobby button before running a hand over my hair. It’s getting long. Need to buzz it.
Need a lot of things . . . like a way out of this nightmare.
And a single night of actual sleep instead of curling up in the library's second-floor study carrels. But asking for help means losing my scholarship.
Then how am I supposed to earn my accounting degree? Sure, I can attend community college back home. But I don’t want to burden my foster dad with college tuition expenses. He’s done enough for me already.
Not to mention, Connor also threatened my life.
Would he go after Larry?
Yeah, he would definitely use my foster dad as leverage.
I scrub my hands over my face. I have to stick this out.
When the elevator reaches the lobby, I step out and make my way to the exit. Fresh air fills my lungs, the sun warming my skin. For a moment, I can almost pretend everything’s okay, that I’m somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
I take a deep breath and exhale, some of the tension leaving my body. I do it again, forcing my muscles to relax. Years of therapy have made me more conscious of my own body.
I head toward Connor’s Maserati at the far end of the parking lot.
“Henneman.”
Fuck, he sounds pissed. I take a deep breath and turn around.
Connor stalks toward me, jaw set, blood still oozing from the split on his lower lip.
“You okay?”
