Page 180 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

“Get off me!” she screamed. Emma couldn’t use her arms, so she pushed her legs into the carpet, trying to buck him off.

“Just stop,” he growled, slapping her face so hard it made her ears ring.

Emma sobbed, still fighting, but it was weaker now.

Fletcher might not have been a strong man, but he was stronger than her. When he hit her a second time, the ringing stopped and her head lolled, her cries muffled, as if they were coming from a great distance.

For one terrifying moment, the world flickered, darkening. But the pain didn’t lessen. Emma clung to it, clawing her way back to consciousness, continuing to cry out until her voice strengthened, turning into a scream.

“No, no, quiet,” he begged.

Spittle fell on her face as Fletcher wrapped his hands around her neck.

Emma screamed louder, the noise a roar in her ears. The world began to blur at the edges and she couldn’t breathe. Scrabbling, she dug her nails into his cheek, going forhis eyeballs.

Suddenly, the weight was gone. Fletcher flew to the side as a booted foot rammed into his side.

Coughing, she looked up, expecting and praying to see Garrett. But the dark-haired blur was too vicious and sharp.

Elias.

He turned to her, a quick split-second check before rounding on Fletcher, growling. The sound could have come from a demon straight out of hell.

Garrett had told her a secret once when he’d had one too many whiskeys. Elias was former black ops.

She shuddered. This look on his face—like Fletcher was prey. This expression had been the last thing some men had seen before they died.

Elias snarled, stalking the smaller man. “What thefuck do you think you’re doing?”

Taking a deep pained breath, Emma rolled onto her hands and knees, scuttling backward.

Fletcher rose but went down with one punch. He landed with a meatythunk.

Emma kept crawling away, her brain remaining unconvinced that she was safe until she hit one of the little tables next to the fireplace, knocking it over.

“Emma.”

Strong hands reached for her, helping her up. Elias’ face sharped into clearer focus.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes latching on to her neck. “Fuck. No, you’re not. It’s okay. Don’t try to talk.”

Before she could answer, there was a distant crash.

They both turned in time to see Garrett come in the front door. His coat hung off one shoulder and he kept glancing behind him toward the elevator.

“Fletcher nearly mowed me down. What’s wrong with him?”

Elias spun and swore when he saw her assailant was no longer on the floor. He sprinted for the door. “Stay with her!” he yelled.

Emma could see the moment Garrett realized she was hurt. His face went blank, icily remote.

It was far more terrifying than Elias’ more explosive anger.

He snapped his head to the open door and for a split second, she thought he was going to run after Elias. But he didn’t. He ran to her instead.

The moment Garrett’s arms wrapped around her, the dam broke. She burst into tears, noisy sobs that were barely muffled against the muscles of his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

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