Page 229 of Pretty Little Lies

“Leave it,” Ramsey orders, the first sign of annoyance seeping through his words. “I’m not going to go back and forth with you when you’re fucking with my future wife.”

Torin flicks his tawny eyes to Emilio, and I can see the confidence blanketing over his features. “You might want to cover your ears for this. We wouldn’t want you to stroke out like Bay’s old man.”

My whole body deflates as if he just punched me in the gut.

Does he know? Did Emilio tell him that my dad died?

My sperm donor slowly pushes back his chair and rises in his expensive suit and haughty demeanor. I don’t need him to save me, would rather him not, but Emilio knows that I’m not a stranger to losing my shit and Torin is the wrecking ball that might have me throwing this whole deal away.

“You may leave the room, Torin. Your level of disrespect has reached its limit today.”

Pretty Boy surprisingly doesn’t fight, pushing off the back of the wooden chair and striding backward. With two fingers, he salutes me, and when he pushes off, gives me the middle finger.

My nostrils flare and tears start to creep back up to their familiar place before Emilio takes a seat again and plucks the marriage contract between Ramsey and I, from in front of me, to place it in a folder out of my peripheral.

But I can’t stop staring at Torin until he disappears behind the door and leaves me alone yet again.

Literally and emotionally.

“Read this later when you’re not going to be distracted,” Emilio mutters. “And take your time. I’ll text you if we receive any word on your sisters.”

I nod curtly. “I’ll have this brought back to you tomorrow.”

“Would you like me to come pick it up?” Ramsey asks me. “If you feel comfortable, maybe we can grab a coffee.” I open my mouth to tell him that I have plans to scramble my brains with a fork when he adds on, “In a public place, of course.”

Coffee is thirty minutes, tops. And I can feel him out more, I guess.

“Sure.”

“I’ll get your number from Dad, and we’ll plan a time.”

I stand from my chair. “Sounds…great.”

“And I’ll bring the marriage certificate for you to sign so we can get it recorded.”

My body cringes, and I think he sees it because he frowns.

Oops.

“Bring a pen,” I tell him, trying to lighten the awkwardness. “I never carry one.”

“Don’t you go to school still?” Emilio asks me, sounding as though it’s as big of a deal as it was Dad’s.

“Don’t need to anymore.”

Emilio doesn’t press the matter and begins to rise again. “I’ll walk you out.”

“I know my way.” And I know Torin is waiting for me out in that foyer.

If it’s one thing, it’s that he’s becoming predictable, and I couldn’t miss that look of challenge when I said I’d put a slug in him before Emilio Wildes in his eyes.

I exit the room before I suffocate, shoving my hand into the pocket of my sweatshirt while I stride for the door of Emilio’s office.

And, what do you know, I’m grabbed from behind.

A large arm wraps around my middle and yanks me back against a hard body in the middle of the foyer, where no one is magically around. I can smell the melon and cedar scent off his body. The soft strength that he has around me when he wants me to stay, but it’s just enough to where I can leave.

He shouldn’t have done that.

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