When I enter the break room, Rebecca looks up at me from one of the small tables and smiles.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she says.
“What does that mean?”Jesus, Zeke, rein in the attitude.
“I didn’t think he’d actually be able to get you to eat.” She shrugs, “But let’s be honest, that guy could ask either of us to do damn near anything, and I’m pretty sure we’d both cave, no questions asked.”
I purse my lips. “Speak for yourself. I’m taken.”
Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Yeah, by Derek, the abominable douchebag.”
“Don’t start, Becs,” I plead, exhausted by the shitshow that has become my life.
“I’m sorry, Zeke, but you can do so much better. I fucking hate that guy.”
The conversation dies quickly after that. I’m a few bites in, finally relaxing in the warmth, savoring the hearty flavor of the chili, when the breakroom door swings open and Talon pokes his head inside.
“Uh, Zeke, I think your…boyfriend’s here.”
What the actual fuck?
Rebecca’s head whips toward me. “Make him leave before I get fired for throat-punching him, Zeke.”
I blow out a breath and dump my uneaten chili in the trash. On my way out the door, I hand the bowl to Talon, knowing my appetite won’t return after this. “Thanks anyway.”
Talon grabs my wrist as I pass. Not violently. Not in a controlling way. Just enough to ground me and make me focus on him. The contrast to Derek’s touch takes me aback.
“Do you want to see him?” he asks seriously.
I scrub my free hand down my face.
“It’s really the only choice I have,” I reply more honestly than I intended to. Something about the way Talon sees me hasmy guard lowering without my permission. He doesn’t require me to say the words. He somehow already knows me better than everyone else combined, and it’s as thrilling as it is terrifying.
“That’s not true, Zeke. I can make him leave.” He says it so sincerely, I know he actually believes it, but I know better. Talon doesn’t have any more power here than I do, and Derek views me as his property. Nothing will keep him from me.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t keep him waiting, though.” I tug lightly, and Talon lets me go, causing a chill to wrack my shoulders at the loss of contact. My feet feel like they’re encased in concrete blocks as I make my way through the restaurant.
Derek never comes up here unless he’s trying to make a point.
Then it hits me.
Talon’s voice on the phone the other day.
Derekishere to make a point. He’s come to piss on his territory.
Pushing through the heavy doors, I squint against the snowflakes hitting me in the face. As I’m trying to make out the space in front of me, a firm hand grabs my biceps and drags me to the side of the building, pinning me against the structure. Derek’s mouth slams into mine. Not out of passion, joy to see me, or a genuine desire to feel connected, but to brand, remind,threaten.
“You didn’t tell me your new employee looks like fuckingBatman,” Derek seethes.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, trying to buy time as I shrug out of his grip.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Zeke. I fucking saw that guy,” Derek says angrily.
“You can’t hold me responsible for the fact thatyoufind him attractive,” I argue dangerously.
“Watch your attitude and cut the shit, Zeke.”
“Whatshit, Derek?”God, I’m so tired of this.“What are you even doing here?”
