Even though I know the truth. I thought I’d lost him. Thought for sure I would be too late. I was terrified with every footstep in that damn warehouse, every bitter remark spewed at Robert, the man who always brought out the worst parts of me. Tonight was no different. No one ever really knows what they are capableof until the chips are down. When you are stripped of all the things that you use to protect yourself—money, influence. I wasn’t Sloane Pierce, CEO of Veil in that warehouse. I wasn’t evenM4st3r_Gl1tch. I was ten years old again, but I was not powerless, this time.
I wipe my eyes as I stand up straighter, taking a glance at Oliver again. I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“I need to… contact the employees and send out a directive to remotely work from home until further notice," I say, my voice shaking. “Parker’s probably going to need access to everyone, and we should remind everyone about the employee assistance program for counseling and—”
Chickadee rubs my back warmly. “Sloane,” she says softly. “Go home.”
Oliver shifts and turns to look at me. His green gaze catches mine and I see the hope behind the exhaustion, the light.
My heart skips a beat as Chickadee sighs. “I got it from here.”
I nod as I hug her once more and thank her and head over to the ambulance.
Oliver’s gaze holds mine the entire way. I stand in front of him, looking down at him.
For a moment, it’s silent. There are so many things I want to say. Questions that need answers, but as I look at his messy hair and his bruised jaw and those vibrant, sparkling eyes, I find the courage to ask the most important question of all.
“Can I take you home, Oliver?” I whisper.
Oliver nods. “Yes, Sir.” His voice is thick with exhaustion. He shifts out of the heated blanket and slowly walks over to me. Like magnets, our bodies shift closer to one another as I walk him to my armored SUV. I open the door for him and he hesitates to step inside. I note the tension in his shoulders, the slight shake. I know all too well those feelings—the loss of security. I’ve lived it myself.
Twice now.
He turns around and looks at me, tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with guilt and sadness. It makes my heart ache to hear it. “I know sorry isn’t enough, and you have no reason to believe me, but—”
I lean into his space, boxing him against the door frame. My gaze finds his, and I hold it with more confidence than I feel right now at this moment.
I could have lost him.
I could have losteverything, but when I think about the most valuable thing Robert could have taken from me…
I realize it’s not Veil.
“I know," I say, carefully reaching out to run my fingers over his bruised jaw. He doesn’t wince, but I know from the glisten in his eyes, it hurts. I run my thumb over it softly, and he tilts his head into my space. His gaze dips to hip, to the evident blood stain on my shirt.
“He could have killed you,” Oliver says, his voice barely a whisper.
His fingers gently brush over the dried blood, and I wince a little.
“Sorry,” he says, moving to pull his hand back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I grab his hand, holding it in mine. I know he’s talking about my injury, but I also hear the depth in his voice, the ache and sorrow.
The love.
And I know he isn’tjusttalking about my physical injuries.
“Oliver—” I breathe his name as he looks up at me with determined eyes, the tears still glistening there, but somehow, contained.
“I’m going to say something, and I’m really fucking nervous about it, so I’ll understand if you do—”
“Spit it out, Oliver,” I whisper softly.
“Do you remember that first day? Well… the second, really… when I turned in the venues, and you asked me for my opinion and I got upset?”
I smirk. “How could I forget? You were positively seething with assistant rage.”
