What pisses me off is being forced to spend time with men who I know were being assholes, they made it personal for me. Did they know I could hear them? Maybe, maybe not, but I don’t fucking care, they were on the clock and, unfortunately, they were too stupid to make sure I was ignorant of their humiliating disrespect.
Sliding my eyes to Abbot, who is standing next to him, my heartbeat is loud in my ears as anger washes over me. He’s picked up on it and is watching my response to the new guy with caution.
“Ms. Harlow, this is Special Agent Corbett.”
The new guy steps toward me with his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Harlow.”
Not taking my eyes off Abbot, or acknowledging the new guy, I ask, “Was he part of the conference call the other day?”
New guy steps back and slides his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and in my periphery, I see him look down at the floor. He knows what I’m talking about, he was there. Nearly mirroring him, Abbot also slides his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath.
He tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on me. “He was in the room, yes.”
The stare-down between us lasts a few long moments before I turn to set the box of brushes I’m holding on the dining table that I just spread a canvas tarp over.
I can feel Abbot’s sharp eyes watching my every move.
Wiping my damp palms on my jean shorts, I take my own deep breath and lock my eyes on Abbot. “Fuck you, Special Agent.”
My bare feet are loud on the hardwood as I quickly walk down the hall to the room I’m staying in. I hear a long breath of frustration behind me.
Fuck him.
How did I get here? All I wanted was to enjoy a night out on my birthday. That’s all.
Tears prick my eyes, but I take a deep breath, fighting a crying jag that is knocking on my ‘bitch let me out’ door. I won’t cry in front of him, I don’t know any of these people, and I won’t let them see me break down.
Curling my fingers around the edge of the door, I push it closed as I walk through, stopping at the edge of the bed to cover my face. I won’t let them see me cry, goddamn it.
The door doesn’t shut like I expect it to, instead, I hear itclick closed softly behind me, and I spin around to see Abbot standing in front of the door with his hands on his hips. He’s so fucking sexy. His dark slacks hug his hips, and the sleeves of his maroon dress shirt are rolled up to expose the veins on his forearms like little rivers under the art on his skin.
But I hate him.
“Get out.” I say calmly.
“No.” The response is immediate, and he doesn’t move a muscle.
We stand facing each other in an intense stare-off. Pressing my lips together, I swallow the lump in my throat and breathe through the pressure in my chest. When I think I’ve got my emotions under control, I say, “Fuck you. I hate you.”
He doesn’t move or say anything, he just stands there, waiting. His dark eyes watching me. I fist my hands and lower them to my sides.
“Isn’t it enough that I had to watch someone die? Then a man breaks into my house, probably planning to kill me, then I’m taken from my home and separated from my family.” My chin starts to shake. “Now you want me to trust men who give men a bad name?” I swing my arm out to the side in the direction of the living room and raise my voice. “I don’t know him, Abbot.”
He’s becoming blurry behind the tears filling my eyes. “I hate this. You promised you would shield me. I don’t know him!” I almost yell the repeated statement and choke on the sob that breaks from my chest. “You can’t just bring me here and… I hate you.” A tear spills and runs down my face, and I swipe it away quickly. “Fuck you.” I whisper as I turn my back to him and cover my face, pissed off that my anger is getting the better of me, which makes the tears come uncontrollably faster.
Strong arms wrap around me, and I feel the heat of hisbody pressed against my back. My hands are trapped over my face in his embrace, and I take deep, measured breaths to control the tears.
“I hate you.” It comes out as a shaky whisper before a soft hiccup.
“I know.” His voice is low and soothing next to my ear, the deep baritone vibrates against my back.
He’s silent for the longest time, his cheek against the side of my head, holding me as I work through my emotions. Then, his warm breath is next to my ear. “You’re right. I’m sorry, it’s a lot. I’m used to this life, but I forget that you’re not.” His big palms close around my upper arms, his grasp strong with calluses scratching against my skin.
With his body wrapped around me, I feel safe and secure. “I told you I would shield you, and I am. I swear I would never do anything to endanger you or make you uncomfortable. The offending men in the room with me that day won’t come near you, I won’t let them. Agent Corbett was in the room, but he’s not one of the offenders, he’s not like that.”
Lifting my face from my hands, I cross them over my chest, inside the safe prison of his arms, and look at the window across the room. “I want my life back.”
“I know you do, baby, but you have to be patient. Try to trust me. I’m working on it, I promise.”
