“Go fuck yourself,” I snap, my voice laced with hurt and anger.
His eyes narrow, a mix of confusion and concern. “Emma—”
“Don’t,” I say sharply, my heart racing.
He reaches for my arm, but I jerk away, unwilling to let him touch me. “Emma, what the hell happened?”
“Oh please,” I retort bitterly, my emotions spilling over. “Did you have fun?”
His brow furrows deeper, confusion etched into his face. “What are you talking about?”
I gesture toward the office, the words tumbling out in a rush. “That girl you just had in there.”
His bewilderment only deepens. “What girl—”
“Don’t lie to me!” I explode, my voice rising louder than I intended, catching the attention of a few people down the hallway.
“You left me sitting outside like an idiot while you were in there fucking someone else!”
His eyes flash with disbelief. “That didn’t happen.”
“Oh really?” I laugh, though the sound is hollow and painful. “Because she seemed pretty confident about it.”
“Emma—”
“I was having a really good time tonight,” I cut him off, my voice wavering slightly. “And I’m not stupid enough to stand here and pretend I didn’t just get played.”
His jaw tightens, frustration and concern battling for dominance on his face. “Nothing happened.”
“Sure,” I reply, shaking my head. “Just… go back to your party.”
He steps forward, desperation creeping into his voice. “Emma, stop—”
But I’m already turning away, my heart pounding as I push through the throng of people. I need to escape, to get away before the tears I’ve been holding back spill over.
The cool night air hits me like a splash of cold water as I step outside, but the pain in my chest lingers. I make my way to my Beetle, and the moment I’m inside, the tears start to fall.
“Idiot,” I mutter to myself, wiping them away angrily.
Twenty-Four
Hawk
What the hell just happened?
My cheek still stings where Emma’s palm struck me, the sharp slap echoing in my mind like a gunshot—loud, jarring, final. I can still hear her voice, clear and cutting:Go fuck yourself. The words replay in a relentless loop as I push through the throng of bodies in the bar, the heavy bass of the music thumping through the floorboards beneath my boots.
My jaw tightens with each step. Just ten minutes ago, Emma had been smiling, laughing, and leaning against my arm as if she belonged there. I could feel her warmth radiating through the fabric of my shirt, her laughter blending seamlessly with the sounds of the party, creating a backdrop of joy. But in an instant, everything changed. Suddenly, she was standing in the hallway outside my office, her eyes glassy and her chest rising and falling as if she’d just sprinted a mile. And before I could utter a single word—
Crack
The slap. Then came the accusations, sharp and painful. “You think I’m fucking stupid, Hawk?”
Before I could even process her words, she had stormed out, leaving me feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. My fists ball up as I shove through another group of revelers, their laughter and chatter fading into the background.
What the hell did she see? Nothing adds up. I was gone for maybe five minutes—ten at most. Just long enough to grab her a damn sweatshirt because she had mentioned feeling cold sitting at the bar. Yet somehow, I come back to find her staring at me like I just committed the worst betrayal.
Just as I’m lost in my spiraling thoughts, a hand suddenly grabs my belt and slides toward my crotch. I stop dead in my tracks, my heart racing.
