Page 233 of Cursed Love

"Again, not my problem. You understood the potential consequences of your actions, should things not work out between us. And Kaitlyn?" he paused, waiting for me to look at him, "This is the very definition of not working out, you know?"

A long tense moment of silence stretches between us as I found myself at a loss for words. Eventually Josh sighs, "But don't worry. You can keep any gifts you received while you were employed." He says this as if he's giving me some great gift. It's not. "You can probably get enough money to leave town if you sell them to the pawn shop down the road."

Sell... The gifts...

I'm pretty sure no pawn shop owner would ever purchase clothes, especially the used underwear. The majority items of his so called 'gifts.'

A sharp pain stabs through my chest, my lungs constricting to the point of pain as it becomes harder to breath with each spiraling thought.

No money. Soon no shelter. Nowhere to go...

A throat clears behind me, drawing our attention. And yet, I still find myself unable to move. Frozen to this very spot in mortification, where the unknown stranger has front row seats to my humiliation. Of course there would be a client coming in at this very moment. Because why should I be allowed to have my life fall apart in private?

And let's not forget that Janine is also here, witnessing it all. Knowing her, she has a camera set up somewhere, recording everything so she can watch every painful moment over and over for years to come.

A light shines in Janine's eyes as she smiles, "How may I be of service, Mr..."

My heart beats to the rhythm of the stranger's footsteps as he crosses the room. His voice dark, warm, carrying a rumble that vibrates down to my very soul as he speaks, "Pardon the interruption."

I know that voice...

The vice griping my lungs loosens as I inhale the familiar scents of sweet sandalwood, warm vanilla, and fresh bergamot, allowing me to take the first full breath since I entered the building. A shiver running down my spine as phantom memories resurface.

Scowling, Josh puffs up his chest, trying to make himself look larger. Trying to intimidate the stranger as he stops by my side.

Trying but failing miserably.

A predator among prey, I can't help but be pulled towards him.

Thick black hair, longer on top and short on the sides. A light dusting of a five o'clock shadow outlining the sharp cut of his jaw. Rich amber eyes drawing me closer. One word coming to mind as my hands brush against his chest, "Mate..."

"Hello, little dove."