When Alec gets off the phone, he’s smoothed things over with his boss to a degree. I can tell he’s still on thin ice, and my guts are twisted into so many knots that I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“I did this. I ruined your job situation. I ruined my own. This is all my fault.”
I’m pacing and basically talking to myself, but Alec comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me before turning me to face him.
“You didn’t ruin anything. Shit like this happens all the time with Boss. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him. And frankly...”
His words drift off, and I’m left hanging until my eyebrows rise to my hairline and I squirm against his hold.
“Frankly, what?” He frowns, and I glare. “Don’t. Okay? I can’t take this right now. You need to be honest with me. I’ve just had the most sexual experiences of my life while I’m apparentlybeing hunted down by some asshole senator. I need you to just talk to me.”
Alec sighs, dropping his head, but then he nods. When he looks back up at me, I can see the conflict in his eyes. It’s clear that communication isn’t something he does easily.
“I don’t like the thought of you dancing. It’s not some judgmental thing. I just... it’s clearly dangerous for you, and it’s abundantly clear that you should be painting.”
I’m a little taken aback, and I lean away, regarding Alec as he still has his arms around my waist.
“This isn’t some controlling caveman thing? You want me to be... painting?”
“Well, I’m not going to lie and say I love the idea of you shaking your fine ass for other people, but as long as it was me you were coming home to, I’d be alright with it.” Alec shrugs, but I’m still reeling from the fact that he’s clearly given this thought. “And it is dangerous, and you should be painting. That’s what you’re going to school for.”
“School I can’t pay for now because I’m jobless.” My shoulders droop, and everything feels like too much.
“You’ll find another job. And I’ll smooth things over with Boss. He hates bullies, and that’s exactly what Teddy is.” He brushes his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Let’s just take this one step at a time. We’ll order some food for lunch and then take this information and evidence to the police. With the attack last night, they have every reason to do something now.”
I study Alec’s eyes, searching them for answers again. This is all moving so fast, but I can’t deny the connection I feel with him or the way he makes my body come alive.
“Coming home to you?” I raise my brows at him. “So, what? You’re... interested in keeping this going?”
Alec smirks, his eyes lighting with mischief. “I would’ve thought that was obvious by now. What with the whole ‘you’re mine’ thing.”
“I thought it was a heat-of-the-moment thing.”
Pulling me tighter against his chest, Alec goes deadly serious, and a chill runs down my spine. He grips my chin, forcing me to focus entirely on him.
“It wasn’t. I didn’t come here looking for this, and hell, I don’t do relationships, but you... you’re something else, Claire. And I’m not willing to just shove all this down. I don’t think I could if I tried. So, yeah. I want to see what happens.”
My heart is racing, and I can scarcely breathe. Still, I find myself nodding before I can think about it too much.
“Okay.”
Alec and I sit in the waiting area of the precinct, and for the first time in days, I feel something like hope.
We have evidence now. The knife. The bruises on my arm. Alec as a witness to the break-in. Surely that has to mean something.
I squeeze Alec’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. They have to listen this time.”
Alec doesn’t say anything, but his jaw is tight.
When we’re finally ushered into a private room, I lay out everything—the assault on the yacht, the threats, the man with the knife in my apartment. Alec holds my hand under the table the whole time.
When I finish, one of the detectives, an older guy with a coffee stain on his tie, leans back in his chair and sighs.
“Look, Miss Andrews. I understand this has been... upsetting for you.”
Upsetting. Like I’m complaining about a parking ticket.
“But Senator McDowell is a public figure. Without concrete proof that he personally ordered any of this...” He shrugs. “It’s your word against his.”
