Page 59 of It Starts With A No

Tipping her head back, she pressed a hand to her face, only to wince when she felt the rough fabric of the bandage against her skin.

She glared at the bandage, then got up and grabbed a letter opener. She’d just stuck the tip of the knife through the packing tape at the top of the box when a sharp chemical stench hit her nose.

Her nose twitched, and Clary took a step back from the package. Maybe I shouldn’t open it. She pursed her lips. “Don’t be silly.” She slid the knife all the way down the center of the box.

Chapter 12

Seth was checking his email on his phone while Clary’s assistant entered the passcode into the office lock.

His chin jerked up when a scream came from inside the room.

The assistant looked up as well, but instead of heading in to find out what was wrong, she moved away from the door.

Seth pressed down on the handle and stepped into the office, just in time to see Clary push a box off her desk and onto the floor.

As the box hit the floor, something tumbled out of it.

His gaze followed the round object as it rolled.

Then he realized what it was—a human head.

He strode forward, his movement catching Clary’s attention, and she pointed a golden letter opener at him.

Seth held his hands up in peace. “It’s just me.”

Her throat bobbed, and she turned her gaze to the package and the head, but she didn’t say a word.

He extended one hand toward her. “Stay there.” He moved closer to the head. A second look made it obvious the thing wasn’t real. He turned the head around.

The head and neck were splashed with red paint, mimicking blood. But the parts without the paint revealed rubbery beige skin.

“It’s fake,” Seth said.

Clary closed her eyes—he thought in relief. But when she opened her eyes, she threw the knife in her hand toward one of the watches on display.

The knife knocked one of the watches off the shelf and onto the floor.

Seth held his hands up when Clary turned to him.

She closed her eyes again, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He shifted uncomfortably. His feet turned toward the door, and all his instincts screamed at him to leave. He couldn’t deal with a crying woman. He didn’t want to. He had enough of that with Holly.

Holly Eolenfeld had always used tears to guilt and manipulate them. When he saw tears, or even just the glistening of Holly’s eyes, he knew it was time to plan an escape.

Run and hide. That had always been the best option.

“I’m going to burn this place down.” Clary turned away and swiped at her face.

He wanted to laugh—he almost did. Only the concern that she might take something and throw it at him next stopped him.

“That’s the second time I’ve pointed a knife at you,” she said as she whirled back around. “I’m sorry.”

“Try to make sure there isn’t a third time.”

She dropped into her chair. “I can’t wait for this day to be over.”

“Are you okay?”

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