I should be happy she's locked herself away. I should go back to the office, focus on work, maybe even go into my office at home and sort out the final details for the shipment coming in a couple of days, but knowing she's angry with me, and has a valid reason for it, makes me feel sick.
Leaving her last night devastated me as much as her, but I panicked, and then somehow convinced myself it was for the best.
"Alicia, unlock the door."
Her response is a barrage of what I assume to be foreign curse words.
"Please, little viper," I plead.
I shouldn't want to see her, because I know I won't have the willpower to keep myself away from her and not take her into my arms, but I just want to make sure she's okay.
The crestfallen look on her face last night as I backed away from the bed is engraved in my mind, haunting me.
I'm met with silence for a few minutes, and as I start to think about leaving, I hear movement from the other side of the door, then the distinct sound of the lock disengaging.
Removing my head from the door, my heart picks up its pace again, and my lips tug upwards as the handle twists.
She pulls the door open, and before I have the chance to react, her fist is flying at my face, her knuckles hitting me square in the jaw so hard I stumble back.
"In case you didn't understand before, I told you to get lost," she sneers, turning her nose up at me before slamming the door in my face. "Asshole!"
Shaking my head, I sigh again and rub at my jaw as I turn away from her room, walking back down the stairs with slumped shoulders.
I think it's fair to say she's still mad.
When I get back to the office, I walk straight into the small break room we have, opening the freezer and grabbing the bag of ice, needing it for my already bruised jaw.
The little viper has a powerful right hand.
Wrapping some ice in a few paper towels, I press it against my jaw and slump down on the two-seater sofa in the middle of the room, sighing.
My silence is interrupted moments later when the door slams open, and Jaylen storms into the room, his blond hair in disarray from running his hands through it—a move he does when he's stressed or confused—and his crystal blue eyes brightly lit with fury.
"What the fuck has gotten into you, Dom?"
Scrunching my face in confusion, I shrug.
"I'm not sure what you're on about, Jay. Mind elaborating?"
He scoffs.
"You're acting like Kaleb, for God's sake!"
Cocking a brow at him, I lean forward, remove the ice from my jaw, and lean my elbows on my knees as I wait for him to give me a further explanation.
"You're being a dickhead—more than usual. And not only that, you've handcuffed your wife to the bed. Twice! Like, what the fuck is that about, Dom? Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you?"
"Hold on, how do you know it's been twice?" I ask, standing from the sofa.
He looks at me in disbelief, stepping forward so he can shove me backwards onto the sofa.
"I know you've done it twice now because the poor woman dislocated her own fucking thumb to get out of the handcuffs. She had to call Aurora to help her out because she was in so much pain!"
My brows raise in surprise, and my heart drops.
She did what?
Holy shit.
