“You hear me, Jamie girl?” His eyes locked on mine, flat and cold. “I don’t want you here. You might as well leave.”
The room was suddenly too small. Too tight.
I’d spent ten years convincing myself I was immune to him. That time and distance had created an impenetrable barrier not even Frank Hartley could break through.
Fuck, was I wrong.
“Fine.” I shot to my feet and stormed out of the room, my messy hair flying around me.
Did it make me look childish? Maybe.
Did I care? Not one bit.
Let him think I was throwing a tantrum. It didn’t matter. His opinion of me couldn’t get any lower.
But the second I hit the hallway, my bravado faded.
Tears blurred my vision, and my chest felt like it was cracking in two. I pressed my lips together, but it didn’t stop the sob that tore out of me, raw and humiliating.
I hated crying. Always had. It made me feel exposed and weak. Proof I wasn’t as strong as I pretended to be.
This was more than simple tears, though. My entire body was shaking, and I couldn’t stop it.
I took the stairs at the end of the hall two at a time, head down, breath ragged, hoping no one would look too closely. I didn’t care where I ended up. I just needed out.
Away from the room. Away from him. Away from the power he still had to tear me apart with a single sentence.
At the bottom, I turned the last corner too fast and slammed straight into someone solid. Strong hands closed around my arms, stopping me before I could get away.
“Easy now,” a low, calm voice said. “I’ve got you.”
I looked up to find bold, blue eyes staring down at me. And they were filled with the exact same concern as the last time I saw them.
“Jamie.” Eric’s brows drew together, his grip tightening protectively. “What’s wrong?”
The sound that came out of me wasn’t dignified. It definitely wasn’t pretty. Hell, I didn’t know I was even capable of making such a horrid noise.
All because this man—this stranger—looked at me like I mattered, like he actually fucking cared, when my own father couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Something inside me gave way. My knees followed.
Eric was there before I could hit the floor, arms firm around my back, holding me upright like gravity was just an inconvenience. He didn’t ask any more questions. Didn’t offer to fix anything. He just held me, his body a solid wall between me and the rest of the world.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, his voice rough with certainty. “You’re safe.”
Wrapped in his steadiness, I folded into him, pressing my forehead to his chest. The soft fabric of his shirt caught the sounds I’d stopped pretending I could hold back.
He stayed exactly where he was, bearing my weight without complaint, like protecting me was the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe it was. Because after ten years of running, I felt tethered. Safe enough to let myself fall apart.
Chapter Three
Eric
One second the stairwell was empty. The next, she was there, plowing into me with the force of someone twice her size.
I caught her on instinct, hands closing around her upper arms before she could bounce off me and keep running. The contact sent something primitive surging through me.
