Page 23 of Broken Boss

Marie Waters is more important, though. I’m sure Autumn would understand. It hits me that this is the first time since I laid eyes on her that I would willingly rebuff her if she tried what she did in the car.

She won’t, though. I can see it in the way she’s sitting, leaning forward, still taking in all the paperwork on my desk.

“And that?”

She tips her chin toward the little package I still haven’t opened.

“According to Marie, it’s going to show one of the last incidents of abuse. Around when she started saying ‘no’ very vocally. She told the detective and myself that we’ll see McCarty pull her into a classroom after practice for a play the school is putting on.” Leaning back, I play with the corner of the package. Something in me doesn’t want to open it yet. Just in case it isn’t the smoking gun we need.

“You’re holding off.”

I smile sourly at her across the desk. “I am. You know, it drives me a little crazy that you can read me like a book, but I know nothing about you.”

My gaze dips down, as if to say, Except what you like to wear under those blazers and blouses.

But I keep the quip to myself and instead stand, moving my chair aside.

“Come here.”

She freezes, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. Any other night, this might lead to something explosive, delectable.

I start ripping into the package. Autumn startles and stands, coming around the desk to stand next to me.

One tap of the keyboard and the laptop lights up, bathing us both in light. Her scent surrounds me completely now, oddly calming in this tense moment.

Clicking the USB drive into the port, we’re both holding our breath as the video file pops up. It’s actually a slew of files taken from the school by the detective—but I know which day and which camera number we’re looking for.

The file opens and I have to drag the video ahead, to just after 5 p.m. on September 19. A few kids move down the hallway in a group, chatting excitedly. Seconds later, a female teacher strides toward what I’m pretty sure is the exit—coat on, purse over one arm.

Then there are whole minutes of nothing.

Autumn shifts, her arm grazing my chest. Neither of us realized we were so close, and she pulls back. Now, there’s another kind of tension in the air.

She’s waiting to see if I’ll react.

The truth is, my body is buzzing at her proximity. A part of me does want to react, but not for sex.

What I really want is to wrap an arm around her waist, pull her in, feel her body against mine as the stress of this day—this situation—pours over us.

I don’t want to feel alone anymore in the dirty, cruel truth of the world.

That realization is a surprise. I’ve always operated on an every-man-for-himself basis, protecting and building what I have to support those outside of this cutthroat life.

Nate, Eva, and Gen. Now Jenson, Mel, and Milo.

My lips press flat as someone new comes on the screen. I recognize her immediately—Marie. We’ve met twice now under the care of her exhausted father and the detective on her case.

In the video, her hair is in a ponytail, hands gripping the straps of her backpack. She could be any other teenager.

Except, I know what happened to her.

And I see the way she glances nervously over her shoulder.

The threat isn’t behind her, though. It’s only seconds, and Reid McCarty steps out of a door to the left and reaches out. Marie sees him, flinches away, and there’s the fuzzy audio.

“No—”

It’s muffled, but she says it again. Throws a “please” in.

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