Page 25 of Lace 'em Up

It doesn’t seem to affect him, expression recalcitrant when he says, “How about you can stay safe in the house while you do what you need to do?”

“I am safe,” I remind him. “Considering you’re the one who told me that Phillip’s been arrested.”

He scowls.

And…I’ve had enough.

I shove by him, start moving down the hall, my shoes in hand.

I’ll put them on for the walk to my desk and nothing more.

There. Good plan.

“Fine,” he snaps, following me. “How about the fact that if you do go in, you’ll get me in trouble with Jean-Michel?”

Nine

King

I get her with that one.

Finally.

And relief is heady as she slides to a stop, turns to stare at me over her shoulder, that beautiful face covered in makeup.

Covered because of the bruises beneath.

I grind my back teeth together, fight against the urge to punch something.

I’ve done enough of that, the hole in the wall in my bedroom, the sore knuckles I’m sporting from the fight I got into last night more than enough reminder of that.

But it’s her snapped out, “Fine,” that actually pulls me back from the edge.

Then she lifts her brows.

“What is it?” I mutter.

She tosses her hair, gives a frustrated exhale. “Where’s this office of yours?”

“Oh.” I shake myself. “Right.”

I move by her, snagging those stupid ass heels she has in her hands as I go.

“Hey!”

But I don’t stop, just chuck them down the stairs in the vague direction of my shoe rack.

“Hey!”

And I keep walking, turning the corner around the stairs, starting down the hall. “I’ll grab them later.”

She huffs out a sigh but doesn’t stop following me.

I’m aware of every step, every breath, every quiet hissed out murmur of pain.

And then I open the door and I’m aware of…

So. Much. More.

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