Then, with a deafening crack, the door is thrown open, bouncing off the wall.“That’s enough!”Matthew bellows.
In a blur of motion, Matthew yanks him off me.James stumbles back, face a mask of shock and indignation, as Matthew shoves him hard toward the open doorway.“Get the hell away from her,” he roars.
James turns, fists clenched, ready to fight, but Matthew steps up to him, radiating lethal calm.“Go ahead.Test me.I fucking dare you.”
James scoffs, smoothing down his hair and straightening his blazer.“You’re out of your league, Counselor,” he says, his lip curling with disdain.“You clearly have no idea who you’re dealing with, so I’ll let it go this one time.”He glares over Matthew’s shoulder at me.“Amy, I’ll see you back at the apartment.Don’t make me wait all night.”
He turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they fade to nothing.
Gone.
Just like that.
I lie there trembling, my body heavy, my mind numb.I raise a shaky hand, trying to hide from the humiliation.
“Amy?What happened?”Helen’s worried voice seems to come from a great distance.
“She just needs a minute,” Matthew says.
The soft click of the door closing seals us in a sudden silence, amplifying my muffled sobs.I remain frozen, sprawled on the desk just as James left me.Tears track hot paths into my hairline.The lingering scent of his cologne clings to me, suffocating.Each sob tightens the vice around my chest.
Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate.“Amy…” Matthew’s voice is a soft murmur.“Amy,” he says again, closer now.
I don’t answer.
I can’t.
A sob racks my body, stealing my voice, my breath, my composure.
He touches my shoulder, his hand warm and reassuring.“Look at me.”
I resist, too embarrassed to show him my face.
“Please.”His touch is insistent but soft.
Slowly, I turn my head, my eyes searching for his.
He stands beside my desk, brow furrowed, eyes filled with a gentle concern.But there’s something deeper there.A darkness.
He’s taken off his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms.He looks less like the lawyer and more like the man I sat with by the pool last night.
Carefully, he helps me sit up.I sway, dizzy.
“I got you,” he murmurs, his arm tightening around my back.“Did he hurt you anywhere I can’t see?”
I shake my head.
Hurt me where you can’t see?
The question almost makes me laugh.A hysterical, broken sound.
No visible bruises, just the deep, agonizing wounds in my heart.
I shake my head again.
“Let’s get you to the couch,” he says.
Before I can protest, he scoops me up, carries me to the sofa, and lays me down, arranging the cushions under my head.He retrieves his suit jacket and drapes it over me as I turn onto my side.
