Page 140 of Royce: The Handler


Font Size:

“Oh shoot.”

Matte fell inside, landing face first next to my feet.

Pathetic.

She couldn’t keep her balance if she was paid to do so.

“Girl, grow a fucking spine.”

“Sorry– I– uh–”

“And stop apologizing so much.”

“Yes. Right.”

I stepped over her thin frame. The sudden silence of the office was loud. Orbs traced every step I made. Still, I continuedon my journey until I reached the elevator. I pushed the button, calling for a cart.

Ping.

I stepped inside, finally releasing the breath I’d been holding. My nostrils flared and then shrunk.

Flared and shrunk.

Flared and…

You’d better not. I chastised as the tears stung my eyeballs.

I straightened my posture and collected the parts of me that were prepared to fall apart. I was trained for crisis. What I hadn’t been trained for was heartbreak. And, seeing the face of a woman who could be carrying the child of the man I had fallen head first for was enough to break the toughest of soldiers.

Ping.

Cameras greeted me as I stepped off the elevator.

“Vote Grayson November 2nd,” I suggested, making my way out of the building.

A set of keys landed on the counter in the kitchen. An unpleasant fragrance filled the air. Giggles gripped the pieces of my sanity that I had left.

“Alright, girl. I just made it home. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. I’ll text you if I hear something from him. I’m sure I’m in for a long day. He’s deep in his feelings.”

“You know how men are. Dish it but can’t take it.”

“At least yours isn’t a nutcase.”

A chuckle followed.

“That has yet to be determined.”

“Right. We’ll see soon enough. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later, Tish.”

The FaceTime call ended. I observed the petite, round-faced woman in a fitted top and pants that matched. Her skin was glistening, a sign she’d just come from the gym.

“Good evening, Asia.”

A hand went to her chest. Another hand went to her stomach. A dagger pushed through my heart. I grimaced from the pain.