Page 102 of Defended By Love

“I’ve learned a lot in this little time loop of yours. Namely, that I was right about coincidences—”

“What did you say?” he asks, his voice an ice blade that runs up my spine. Even red-faced and gassed, he can still turn on his villainic pheromones when need be.

“Coincidences are just the happy bedtime story people tell themselves to feel better about their lack of mental fortitude.”

“The other thing,” he says. I guess that means he’s serious if he’s saying something instead of asking questions in circles.

I look him dead in the eye. “The time loop? Your godforsaken time loop that’s had me spinning my wheels for ages.”

Reinhold takes a deep breath and turns towards his enforcers. Before I can call out for Grant, Reinhold waves them away.

“Leave us.”

He doesn’t even watch to see that they listen. He just moves to another painting, opens it, and pulls out two cigars from the cavity within.

“Cuban?” he asks.

For the first time on this today, I’m thrown off guard. I was pretty sure I was going to be hauled away and beaten. Instead, I’m finally getting invited to one of the boys-only lawyer cigar parties.

This is the weirdest thing to happen in the time loop since that thing with Grant in the bathroom at the opera.

“No, thank you,” I say. In another life, I would’ve been all over smoking it and pretending that it was better than oxygen. Now? I’m over kissing ass. The Reinholds and Dominics of the world can all kiss mine.

Reinhold stares at me. I’m guessing he wants his spot back. Too bad. It’s mine.

“You seem very comfortable in my office,” he muses. “Most people find it… off-putting.”

I shrug. “Not my first time in here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “In the interest of being more thorough, I have some questions for you.”

What a surprise—Reinhold has questions.

“Then it would seem we’re ready to deal because I have some of my own.”

I answer about a million of his. They’re all basic variations of ‘how many days have I been in the time loop?’ He takes notes furiously as I speak, despite the fact that he’s recording on his phone.

“And the loop starts precisely at midnight?” he asks, again.

“Precisely.”

“And each time, your body is just as it was?”

“Even after I died, I was back exactly as I was.”

Reinhold’s eyes flick up to mine. This is the first time I mentioned that I died during one of the loops. “Fascinating.”

What a psychopath.

“Were you ever carrying anything when the time loop reset? Was it carried back with you?”

His last question makes me realize that, despite the fact that I have my feet up on his desk, he’s playing me. He’s not interested in my experiences, except in a guinea pig sort of way. He’s debriefing me like I was the first trial run in something.

“Enough with your questions,” I snap. “Onto my own. Like, was it worth it?”

“Define ‘it’?”

“Blowing up the building to protect your company from an environmental investigation. A girl died in there, I hope you know. Well, she usually dies in there.”

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