“Give that back to me!” I shrieked, reaching up to take it away. Blood was pounding through my ears as I became fully aware that this was no longer my secret. “Max. Give it to me!”
“That’s what I fucking thought,” he said, shooting me an angry look as he set my phone on the counter. “I reckon shit is about to hit the fan.”
CANE
There was no sense in trying to get any work done.
I slammed my pencil on the drawings, turning a circle in my chair.
I had brought a bid home to work on over the weekend, hoping that it would keep my mind occupied, but it wasn’t working. It hadn’t worked all day. Here it was, after ten on a Saturday night, and I was no better than I was twelve hours earlier.
All I could see was her face as she watched me walk out of that fucking bar. All I could hear was the sound of being sent to voicemail a few hours earlier.
She actually liked my fucked-up self.
Liked. Past tense. Dumbass.
I got up and walked to the window. Resting my head against the cool glass, I wished I could just redo the whole night before. I expected her to be pissed at me when I got there, but I should have stayed calm. And I sure as shit shouldn’t have walked out with that chick.
That was low—even for me.
My phone buzzing on my desk broke my thoughts. I turned and watched it bounce around.
Maybe it’ll bounce off the desk and smash into pieces.
I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging it roughly. I needed to feel something other than whatever this feeling was.
Is this what guilt feels like? Don’t you need a conscience to feel that?
I need to hit the bag for a while. Work this shit out of my system.
I headed back to the desk when the phone started ringing again. I saw it was Max.
“What’s up?”
“We have a problem,” Max bit out angrily.
For fuck’s sake.The last thing I wanted to deal with on a Saturday night was a construction issue.
I pay him to handle this shit. Let him handle it.
“Oh, do we now? What can you not take care of yourself, Max?” I instantly felt bad for being a dick, but I really just wanted to be left alone.
“Okay,” Max said, his words and their anger hitting me hard. “I just won’t tell you that Jada has fucking bruises on her arm.”
“The fuck?” I sat back down in my chair, confident that I misheard him. “What did you just say?”
“Yeah. Jada just got home, and she was acting nervous as hell. Kari grabbed her arm, and it has a bunch of bruises, Alexander.”
“From what?” I asked, praying that she didn’t do something really fucking stupid. But I had a bad feeling.
“I’d say in my infinite wisdom that they are fingerprints. They look like someone grabbed her.”
Adrenaline began to flow through my body, and I stood back up, my heart now pounding uncontrollably. “Who?” I looked around the room for my shoes, my mind three steps ahead of my body.
“Powers.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.Powers?
