Page 14 of Revenge of the Forgotten

After gathering her things off the floor, Vega reached up high to pass them over, realizing they were still soaked. “I swear it’s not pee,” she blurted out, biting her lip hard enough to cause a bit of pain as punishment for her stupid mouth. “A bottle of wine broke.” Definitely should have started with that.

“Good to know,” Oliver responded with a chuckle, putting her bag to the side. “Okay, your turn.”

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Her nails dug into her wrist again. Vega coaxed herself to the open door, willing her eyes not to look down—only up to the hero saving her. “Please don’t drop me,” she whispered, lifting her arms above her head.

“I promise I won’t,” he responded, wrapping his large hands around her forearms. “But I can’t guarantee this is going to be a very comfortable position. I’m going to make it as quick as possible, okay?”

Vega’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, giving him a single nod. “Okay.” As soon as the word slipped through her lips, Oliver hoisted her up. It happened so fast Vega had no time to register she was even suspended in the air.

The dirty floors of her apartment building were underneath her quickly, and if she didn’t know they’d never been cleaned a single time since living here, she would’ve kissed the fucking floor.

Oliver and another fireman helped her up. “You good?” His face was welcoming, a little stubble around his sharp jawline. Damn it, Vega, you’re married—to a cheater. She threw those thoughts out of her head, focusing on the fact she was finally free.

“Great,” she said with a small smile. “Thank you.” Vega looked around at the other firefighters, thanking them as well.

“Our pleasure. The elevator repairman just got here, but I’m sure you’re not interested in using this one ever again, huh?” His laugh was soft, his lips settling into a warm smile.

“This one or any other for that matter.” Vega hoisted her bag over her shoulder and glanced up at the number outside the elevator door. Of course she’d gotten stuck a half floor away from her exit. “Thanks again,” she said as her nails dug into her wrist for the umpteenth time.

Oliver’s eyes grew wide. “You’re hurt.” He reached out to her with gentle hands, but Vega pulled away, burying her arm against her chest.

“Oh no, it’s nothing. I…” Vega quickly searched her brain for an excuse. “The chemicals at work.” She rolled her eyes, brushing off his worry. “Have a great night!” Vega turned on her heels, her shoes squeaking against the old, checkered linoleum.

She looked down at her wrist, where droplets of blood had started to dry and crust up.

As she slid her key into the door of her apartment, it flew open, and she was face-to-face with Chase.

His mocha eyes scanned her body, his short blond hair gelled back in his typical after-work style. “Vega.” He sounded relieved, a sigh leaving his lips as he took in the scene behind her. “What the…” His round face was riddled with worry, dark bags clouding his under eyes, and for the first time in years, Chase had stubble forming on his jaw.

I can’t do this right now. Without a single word, she turned around and padded away from her apartment and the man she’d once thought she might grow old with. Oliver, the handsome firefighter, and his co-workers watched in silence as she stomped past them. Their eyes flicked behind her, landing on the husband trying to keep up.

“Vega, we need to talk about this!”

She skidded to a stop, spinning around with her finger in Chase’s face. “We’ll talk when I’m ready. Until then, give me my space, leave me alone, and maybe go stay with your little girlfriend,” Vega snarled.

Chase reached out and wrapped his hand around Vega’s finger, pushing it down and away from his face. “Vega, please. This is all just a big misunderstand?—”

Her hand connected with the side of his cheek, the crisp slap pulsating down the thin hallway. Vega pulled away from his touch. “A misunderstanding?” Her jaw dropped. “A misunderstanding?” Her voice grew shrill with each syllable. “What am I not understanding about finding your face between another woman’s legs? Hmm? About finding out that you’ve been cheating on me for over a year?”

Chase’s hand rested on his cheek, rubbing at the sting that was surely there. “Vega, lower your voice. People are listening.”

She peeked over her shoulder and was surprised to see she felt no shame knowing there was an audience. Vega laughed, but the sound rang hollow. “Oh, am I supposed to try to protect your reputation?” She shook her head. “If you think for one second I care about your feelings right now or what anyone thinks of you, then you obviously don’t know me as well as I thought.” Vega ignored the look lining the faces of each fireman as she walked by and slammed the stairwell door shut.

Vega hoped some fresh air would do her good after hours of feeling like she might suffocate to death inside an elevator.

The rain still dripping from the clouds above was finally starting to come to an end, turning into a cold mist, but the horizon was dark with more rain. This time of the year tended to be rainy, but the dark sky in the distance seemed heftier than typical spring showers.

There was a storm coming.

Storms always seemed to follow her worst days, clouding her like a blanket. Vega should find it ominous, but strangely enough, it felt calming.

Vega shifted her eyes down to her feet as they shuffled down the sidewalk—her body knew exactly where she wanted to go.

The lake was about a twenty-minute walk, but the sound of the waves rolling to shore was exactly what she felt she needed to help drown out the buzzing in her head.

Vega took a seat, the wind whipping her hair around as the storm started to churn the lake up. This bench ought to have a Vega-sized butt imprint by now. She had been coming to this spot since she moved to Chicago. Whenever Vega needed to clear her head or when she needed a moment to herself, this was her spot.

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