I let her pass me, putting myself between her and Elliot before following her into my office. I leave the door open, not wanting to raise suspicion. Elena walks to the farthest corner of the room behind my desk, and I step in close, just enough for her to hear me whisper, “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean you don’t think so?” It’s my body trembling now, eyes desperately raking over her, searching for any sign of harm. “How long have you been dating him?”
“I just met him tonight.”
“Tonight?” I rub my face, far too tired to be dealing with this right now. “What the fuck is going on, Elena?”
Her eyes go wide, and we both freeze, realizing I raised my voice. We’re silent for a moment, listening for footsteps, but thankfully all remains quiet.
“I met him on a dating app,” she hisses through clenched teeth, grabbing my arm and tugging me closer as she lowers her voice. “Tonight was our first date, and he got…aggressive.”
“Aggressive how?” I ask, far too focused on the way her skin feels against mine.
It’s been over four years, down to the week, in fact, since I’ve last felt her touch. I abhor the way my body reacts to it. Like something dormant awakening again.
“We went on the Ferris Wheel and he…” She shivers. “Touched me. In a way I was not totally cool with.”
Red clouds my vision, and as if she can sense it, she tightens her grip on my wrist, bringing me back to her.
“When I asked him to stop, he…” She sighs. “He started yelling at me. He called me a tease for the shorts I was wearing and said I should’ve known what I was getting into when I signed up for the app.”
I could grind my molars into fucking dust right now.
“First of all, that’s not true. You don’t owe a goddamn man anything. Ever,” I growl. “Secondly, I know that you know that. Why didn’t you tell him you’d slit his throat?”
She loves threatening to slice a man’s neck open.
Her face falls, gaze dropping to the ground. Almost as if she’s disappointed in herself. I want to touch her, pull her against my chest and cradle her head like I’ve always done when comforting her.
But I don’t.
“I let him pick me up in front of the house.” She lifts her head, and I swear I can see the faintest veil of tears in her gaze. “He knows where I live”—her voice breaks in a near silent whisper—“where Lou lives.”
Fuck.
This guy really shook her up. She’s afraid of him following her home. I don’t know why her concern for Dahlia’s daughter humanizes her in my eyes. She’s always been human. Empathetic to a flaw…almost. I spent four years turning her into a heartless succubus inside my head.
“Stay in my office and lock the door behind me.”
Her brows furrow as I step back toward the door. She shoots out, grabbing my arm before I can reach it. “What? No–”
I pull myself from her hold, unable to fathom the heat of her touch. “For once in your goddamn life, just listen to me, Elena. Lock the fucking door.”
I leave my office, shutting the door behind me, letting out a breath when I hear the lock click into place. My steps echo down the hallway. Elliot mutters, “Took you long enough,” before he halts, cocking his head with a furrowed brow when he sees I’ve returned without her.
He stands by the front door, arms crossed at his chest. I quickly walk behind the front counter, putting it between us. He frowns beneath his porn-stache. “Where’s Elena?”
“She’ll be going home with me tonight.”
He scoffs. “The fuck did you just say to me?”
“You need to leave.” He doesn’t move. I lean against the counter like I’m bored. “There’s a panic button beneath this desk. I’ve already pressed it. Police will be here in two minutes. You can walk out that front door right now, and I’ll conveniently forget what you look like by the time they get here,” I say, feigning calm, though I know damn well I don’t have a panic button. “Or you can stay, and you can speak to them about touching your date without her consent tonight.”
He rears back, genuinely shocked. “What the fuck are you talking about? She’s a fucking liar, dude. I didn’t do a goddamn thing!”
He steps toward me, which I think is intended to be menacing, but it only makes me laugh. “My best guess is that you’re so used to copping a feel without permission that making women uncomfortable is second nature. You don’t even realize what you’re doing.” I shake my head, chuckling again. He stiffens, unsure how to react to my lack of fear. “I know it may bea struggle to get this through your dull fucking head—past that fragile ego and sense of entitlement—but she’s not interested.” I nod toward the door. “Now get the fuck out.”
