“Yes,” Felicity said loudly. “He was trying to shove me into that utility closet and do god-knows-what with me, and he still hasn’t let me the hell go, so absolutely there’s a problem here.” She gave a pointed yank on her arm.

“You really need to let her go, Chuck,” Abby said.

Chuck seethed, whipping around to face her briefly. “You stay out of this.” He snapped his glare back to Felicity. “And you need to shut up and do what you’re told, Lissy. That’s not even a—”

Her stomach flipped promptly upside down and Felicity felt the world spin in reverse. “What … did you just call me?” She didn’t really need him to answer that, though. There was only one possible explanation. An explanation that brought with it an answer to the larger question and made Felicity feel like the biggest fool in the world. “Tristán got to you. He bought you off or something.”

“Didn’t I tell you, you need to shut up? Quit running your damn mouth!”

Felicity ignored him, a fresh wave of fear spiking the adrenaline in her system. She launched herself forward and to the side, hoping to grab up her phone from the chair where she’d so uselessly dropped it. Her angle was terrible, particularly with the hand still anchored on her wrist, but it was the only way she could get another message to Cristiano. It didn’t feel smart, or right, to abandon the lifeline that was her phone.

Chuck cursed and jerked her back, swinging the arm he had hold of out wide and throwing off the momentum of her lunge. “I ought to throw you in a closet, you damn bitch,” he snarled at her.

Felicity stumbled, her shoulder immediately screaming at her, and her body reared back and sideways as she suddenly found herself fighting to stay on her feet. She wondered, for a split-second, if she could somehow use her position to land a hit on her abusive landlord instead—maybe give him a good kick to the balls—but then the point was moot.

Abby moved forward and swiftly, seemingly effortlessly, knocked Chuck off of Felicity and onto the floor. She’d moved with pure efficiency, one smack to Chuck’s extended forearm all it took to break his grip, and two more hits dropping him to his knees. As soon as he hit the floor, she shifted her weight and planted a sneakered foot on his back, forcing him down. “Now, Charles, you have a choice. We can involve the police, and you will be arrested for assaulting an unarmed woman who was clearly not a threat to you, or I can let you up and you go on with your day pretending the past few minutes never happened. But you have to decide, right now.”

Felicity gaped at the scene in front of her, gingerly cupping her sore wrist against her chest and almost afraid to move. Was this woman also connected to everything going on? How had she done that?

Chuck rolled his head to the side, breathing hard, but Felicity couldn’t see his face. She barely even heard him when he spoke. “F-fine. But I want you gone.”

A sarcastic smile lifted Abby’s lips. “Yeah, I think we’re in agreement on that.” She lifted her gaze across to the Felicity and her smile softened into something nicer, more approachable. “Go ahead and grab your phone. Let’s get out of here before he tries something stupid again, yeah?”

Felicity nodded on reflex and side-stepped over to pick up her precariously balanced phone. She walked wide around Chuck as Abby stepped off him, and felt a notable amount of gratitude when Abby kept herself between them until they were both out of the office again. Felicity sucked in a breath and put her back to the wall, tears quickly building behind her eyes. Do not cry. She’d done so damn much of that talking with Dr. Laura not an hour earlier. This was supposed to have been her big, empowering moment.

She’d never considered there was any kind of link between her landlord and her goddamn half-brother.

“Hey, are you all right?” Abby’s voice was gentler, reminding Felicity she wasn’t alone and wasn’t in the one place that was safe. “We can still call the police if you want. Totally up to you.”

Felicity willed her tears away, proud of herself for keeping them inside this time, and let her focus drop to her wrist. Already, her skin was marred by an angry red ring, punctuated with deep, crescent-shaped indents. Dots of brighter red decorated the one in the area that hurt the most. Cristiano was going to be so mad. But until he got there, she needed to stay composed. So she lifted a smile to the woman who’d saved her. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

Abby’s brow furrowed. “You should take care of that, at least.”

“I will.” Felicity lowered her arms, telling herself it didn’t hurt. “I’ve got stuff in my apartment upstairs. But, really, thank you so much.” Not that she had her key on her, or was in any way adept at picking locks. She only didn’t want to force more of her problems onto anyone else.

Abby glanced behind her, toward the office they’d left, and met her gaze again. “This isn’t my business,” she said, “but if I’m not comfortable staying here after that, I can’t imagine how you are.”

A briefly hysterical laugh bubbled out of her and Felicity shook her head. “Oh, no. I already gave notice, actually. But if I hadn’t yet—” She raised her wounded left arm. “I think I’d be justified now.”

Abby smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Abigail. Most people call me Abby,” she said. “Want me to walk with you to your apartment?”

Felicity shook her hand politely. “Felicity, and thank you, but no. You don’t have to do that.” She didn’t want to further humiliate herself by revealing that she actually had no way inside. “But I’ll let you walk me to the elevator.” She tried to go for a grin, hoping to be friendly. When Abby chuckled, she thought maybe she’d managed. That, or the other woman was simply kind enough to play along.

“Tell you what,” Abby said as they turned, “I’ll keep you company all the way to the second floor.”

Felicity smiled a little easier. She was on four, so she presumed that meant Abby was on two and therefore wouldn’t see her dilemma. “Even better.”

fourteen

What Happens Next

Felicity entirely forgot about the damn misaligned elevator and she only kept from crashing onto the floor by twisting herself sideways and falling into the wall instead. All because of the three-inch difference between where the building’s elevator stopped and where the actual floor opened up. In her rapid stumbling she slammed against her injured wrist and had to bite back a cry of pain as the impact sent a shockwave up to her also sore shoulder.

Okay, silver lining. I didn’t drop the phone. And she was more grateful than ever that she’d talked Abby into letting her continue on by herself, because that would have been more humiliating than having needed rescuing in the first place.

Felicity dragged in a breath, pushed away from the wall before whatever tenant lived there could come see what had happened, and forced herself to continue down the hall. She actually knew the older man who lived there, come to think of it, and he probably hadn’t heard a thing. So maybe she hadn’t run out of luck yet. But as her own door came into sight, she found herself faced with a very ridiculous and uncomfortable question. What the hell am I doing here?

She’d come back to interrogate Chuck. She’d thought she could get answers out of him. In a sense she supposed she had, but not at all the way she’d meant to, so she felt incredibly dissatisfied about it. Worse than that, though, was the fragment of the answer she had uncovered. Chuck had some sort of connection to her stupid bastard half-brother, which probably meant he had a connection to the gang her stupid bastard half-brother apparently co-operated. All of which meant that this was not a place Felicity should be.