I scream, thinking it might be Vigo, come to make good on his threats. But it’s Rush who fills the door.
He’s got a bat in his hand, and I stare at it, trying to understand. But as he catches sight of me, he drops it on the floor.
He doesn’t say a word as he kicks the door closed, and then crosses to me, pulling me off the floor and cradling me in his arms.
He just fired me. He’s the last person I should seek comfort in, because I know whatever we had before is gone, but for just a moment, I sink into him, burrowing my face into his chest as another sob breaks from my lips.
He holds me closer, his mouth pressing to my forehead. “Hush, sweetheart.”
I tip my head back, looking up at him. Even through the tears, I can see something is wrong with his face. Is that why he was carrying a bat? “What happened to you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he answers, as he sits on the couch, settling me in his lap. “What matters is that you trust that I will protect you. I promised you, remember? He will never touch you again.”
“But…” I try to sit up, but he holds me in place. “You fired me. I…”
He grimaces. “You are Vigo Sinclair’s ex-wife. You are divorced, right?”
“Of course I’m divorced,” I say as I try to wiggle from his grip.
He doesn’t let me. “So you changed your name and hid your identity to…”
“Protect my daughter,” I cry, actually feeling hurt and annoyed. How can he not know that about me?
“Try to understand, Gigi. You lied. And you have a past with my worst problem.”
That deflates my anger.
“I’m not even sure I can trust you’re telling me the truth now.”
I choke on my own tears, understanding more than I want to how right his position is. I have lied to him, he has no reason to trust me.
I look away, as a knock sounds on the door. Everything in me tenses and I move to roll off Rush and hide.
He holds me firm against him as he calls out, “Who is it?”
“It’s Gris.”
He gets up then, gently setting me down, as he moves to the door and opens it.
Gris steps inside and hands Rush his phone. I have no idea what’s happening, but I can’t even worry about it. Whatever is on that phone can’t be worse than what’s happening in my life right now.
So I curl into the cushions, my cheek pressed to the fabric as I close my eyes. Somehow more tears drip off my lashes and track down my cheeks.
“Gigi,” Rush calls to me, his voice soft. Easy. I don’t open my eyes. “Look at me, baby.”
I squeeze my eyes shut instead. “Killian said that he’d help?—”
“Killian is not helping you.” My eyes pop open as my cry fills the room. Rush stands in front of me, looking down at me with a ferocity that should scare me. “I am.”
“Rush,” I breathe, my eyes going wide with confusion. “What do you mean?”
But he doesn’t get a chance to answer.
In the building, an alarm sounds.
I stand, absolute panic making my muscles, weak a moment ago, now rigid. “What is that?”
“Lockdown,” Gris answers with a frown. “I wonder why?—”
