And that’s when he leapt to his feet. “Get the fuck out of my office or you’re fired!”
He bellowed so loud over my head that my ears started ringing. My eyes widened as he balled up his hands into fists, ready to swing them in my general direction. I took a few steps back, watching as unadulterated and unfiltered anger washed over his face.
“What did she do to you?” I asked breathlessly.
He growled at me. “You don’t ever want to know. Now get. The fuck. Out.”
I raced out of his office, stumbling over my own two feet as I bolted for the elevator. I wiped away my hot tears of fear and sorrow because I refused to cry over that man. If he wanted to wallow in his own anger and his own self-pity, then that was on him. But I sure as hell didn’t have to continue taking his abuse in the process.
I’m going to take work home and call in on Monday.
I rode the elevator down to my floor and bypassed everyone that might have wanted to talk with me. I slid into my office and gathered some paperwork that wasn’t as sensitive as our financial documents and I held them close to my chest. I eased back toward the elevator and took it all the way down to the parking garage, ready to get home and call it a damn weekend.
But the second I got back to my apartment, there was a police officer standing in front of my door.
“Uh, Officer? Can I help you?”
He turned to face me. “Are you Rebecca Loren?”
I nodded. “That would be me, yes. Is everything all right?”
He held up his pad and pen. “I’m here to take your statement.”
I blinked. “What statement?”
“About the incident in the parking garage? At your place of work? Mr. Joseph Ryker told me you’d be pressing charges, so I need your side of what happened.”
I’m pressing charges.“I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize--.”
“He said you’d probably be too flustered to think about something like that, so he sent me over here to clarify things. You have a solid case with the audio and video Mr. Ryker turned over. We wouldn’t even need you in court, if you wanted to press charges. Just your signed, sworn statement.”
“And Mr. Ryker told you this when?”
He chuckled. “The man called my boss a few minutes ago. Told me it was urgent and top priority that I get over here and talk with you. But it seems like you don’t want to press charges. Am I reading this correctly?”
Jesus, that man is so damn confusing.“It’s not that I don’t want to press charges, I just don’t want to have to deal with court dates and summons and having to be there. I just moved here and started this job a few weeks ago and--.”
He smiled so kindly that it took me by surprise. “I’m just telling you what one of my contacts has said. My best friend is a public defender for the city, and he says that with all of the evidence we’ve got stacked against him all we’d need are pictures of your wrists to prove injuries to the court and your sworn statement. You won’t even have to appear.”
I considered the idea. “Do you mind coming inside? I really need some coffee, and I’d be more than willing to pour you a mug.”
He nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”
I unlocked my apartment door and let him inside, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough closing the door with us alone in my place. I set my purse on the couch and dug out my phone, ready to text JoJo and ask him what in the absolute fuck he had done. But the man had beaten me to the punch with a text of his own.
A text that made me so confused that it angered me.
JoJo: Yes, you’re pressing charges. And don’t think I won’t if you pass this up.
“Ma’am?” the officer asked.
I drew in a deep breath to keep my heart from exploding with frustration. “Yes, Officer?”
I turned to face him and found him sitting at my kitchen table. “Is everything okay?”
I sighed as tears rushed my eyes. “Just been a very long life.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it seems life’s getting to be that way for everyone.”
