Page 37 of Never Let You Go

“Correct. You need to go over your definitions, Isaac.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Chris.”

“Right. Yes, Chris.”

“Alexandra,” Christopher says.

“Y-yes?” I’m trying to write everything Isaac just said in the margins of the booklet.

“Relax. It’s all there in the manual. No need to scribble all over the damn thing.”

“Oh—I thought…” I thought I was supposed to take freaking notes?

“I was just messin’ with you.”

Isaac bites his bottom lip, a silent chuckle shaking him.

Christopher slaps Isaac on the back. “Having fun?” He keeps his hand on the teenager’s shoulder and shakes him gently. “Alright, son, show our rookie around. Treat her good, yeah? We don’t want to scare her away.”

ten

Alexandra

The next few days go by in a daze. Mostly, my body needs to adapt. My feet are killing me. My arms are killing me.

The work is hard.

They never said it would be easy. And Red Barn offered me a lot, and I mean a lot of money to turn it down.

That’s not the problem here.

“Alexandra.”

That’s the problem.

My hot boss. The way he says my name, rolling off his tongue like a dirty word whispered between sheets we might want to share at some point. A code of sorts.

I tilt my head up.

Yup.

He’s looking at me like I’m puzzling and fascinating to him. “You gonna be okay?” He brushes off the snowflakes caught in his hair.

Isaac came in with a bruised jaw this morning, and I talked him into telling me what was going on. What’s going on is, his father is an asshole. The major league kind.

I didn’t take it too well.

“Me? I’m great. It’s Isaac you need to ask.”

Christopher leans on the doorjamb. Drops his head. Studies his feet. Looks back up at me. “He knows we’re here for him. I had a talk with his asshole of a father just now. I need to be careful. Can’t break the link, you know. He’s under eighteen. His father says he can’t work here anymore, then he can’t.”

“Can’t you report it?”

He clicks his tongue. “Isaac won’t. He wants to look after his mom and his younger sister. The way he sees things right now, he’s the punching ball, they don’t get hurt.” He looks up at me, and there’s pain in his eyes. It sears through me. “We’re working on changing how he sees it. So. Thanks for talking to him too. That means a lot to me.” He looks at me, and all of a sudden, we’re not talking about Isaac anymore. His eyes are talking about how he sees me, and that scares me a whole lot.

“Course,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say, and the moment is getting too intense for me. Full-on belly clench. It doesn’t help that his eyes roam my body, and my nipples don’t get the message that it’s technically wrong to perk up under these circumstances.

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