The last year before I finally ran away, I used his obsession to my advantage. I’m not proud of the things I did, but I did them so I could get away. So I could survive. So I could have a life away from him. Victor’s large hand engulfs mine, and I realize I was running my thumbnail along the paper cut on my index finger.
“What happened?”
I glance from our joined hands to him. It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the cut on my finger. He grabs a napkin out of the brown paper bag and wraps it around the cut.
“Oh.” It’s bleeding again. “Paper cut.”
Victor is gentle as he blots the blood with the napkin, looking from my finger to my face and back again.
“Does it hurt?”
I swallow and look away.What would he say if I told him I liked the pain? What would he say if I told him the pain grounds me? Does that make me a masochist?
“Olivia?”
That name. I hate that name.I slip off the chair, the drag of the legs along the floor grates on my nerves.
Pulling my hand out of his, I say, “I need to get back to work.”
He stares at me, his green eyes looking into my soul. He grabs the bag and hands it to me. I take it and glance inside, not seeing what’s in it.
“Thank you for bringing me lunch,” I whisper.
Why do I feel like I’m going to cry? I haven’t cried in years. Not even when my mom died. Ten minutes in the presence of Victor and I feel like I’m about to break.
“You’re welcome.”
He stands and takes a step toward me, but I step back. If he touches or hugs me, I know the small amount of control I have left on my emotions will evaporate. I give him a nod, turn on my heel, and walk to the elevator. Thankfully, someone is getting off just as I step up to it. Not looking back, I get in and push the button to close the door.
Why did he have to show up in my life? Why now?I lean against the wall and close my eyes as the elevator climbs to my floor. I’m so tired of feeling like this. When will it ever get better? And how is it being in his presence for those few moments released more pressure in my chest than any of the times I cut myself?
Chapter nine
Victor
Iput my hands in my pockets as I watch Olivia run away from me. She doesn’t give me a backward glance as she enters the elevator and closes the doors. Standing there, lost in my thoughts, I know I fucked up, but I’m not sure how yet. I wasn’t there enough, so lost in the hell I was going through and living from day to day, just surviving. Blowing out a long breath, I walk back toward the security desk.
“James, what time does Olivia usually get off?” I ask.
He gives me a long look before answering. “How do you know Liv?”
I almost tell him it’s none of his business, but I can tell he’s only asking out of concern for her. “I knew her parents,” I finally respond, leaving out the fact her parents made me her godfather, because am I really? Clearly, I wasn’t a very good one.
His eyes narrow slightly before he nods once, like he’s just decided I’m safe. I wonder why. Has Olivia told him not to give any personal information out about herself? I know she’s avoiding Donovan, but why? We’re both Outsiders, he should trust me.
“She leaves between five and five-thirty.”
“Thanks.”
I wave bye and walk outside, taking in the surroundings to see if Donovan could be lurking anywhere. Olivia is obviously terrified, so I’m going to stay on guard and make sure she’s safe. I don’t see his car anywhere. There was a time Donovan’s presence in this town was constant, but four years ago, Connor McMillian took it upon himself to clean this place up. And it’s worked.
It is a bit curious that around that same time is when Olivia ran away from Donovan. Does he know she’s in this city so he’s pulled back in an effort to keep her safe? Or is it something else? I’m going to find out.
The rest of the day is spent fielding phone calls from my guys at the new construction site to working with Lee on the menu for the pub I’m opening. I own several restaurants in Louisiana and Mississippi, but this place is for me. It’s in the historic district and overlooks the Mississippi River.
It’s something I’ve wanted to do for years, but between building my construction business, managing the other restaurants, and Josie, it wasn’t a top priority. When this building was put up for sale a couple of years back, I bought it.
It pissed Connor off to no end. That man is hotheaded. The amount of times I’ve tried to explain to him I’m not associated with Donovan in any way has not deterred his hatred for me. So, I do my best to avoid him. Except, that’s not always possible, since he owns his own construction company too. He also has a realtor’s license, so selling this building to me was a big blow to his ego.
