Page 22 of I Am Salvation

Now’s my chance.

I wrap my arm around his back and then knee him right in the balls. He yells out in pain and doubles over.

“You fucking bitch,” he chokes out.

I walk over him to my computer, and with a few clicks, the email is sent. I turn to the writhing piece of shit on the floor in front of me. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. See you around, Rod.”

He stands up, and the look on his face is pure anger. “You spoiled little cunt.”

I swallow as it hits me.

Not the word he used. I was expecting that.

I acted in haste, and I wasn’t thinking. I’m glad the client will know about the issue, but I wasn’t thinking about Marcus or anyone else.

I don’t care how this affects Rod or Mr. Lund or Mr. Lopez.

But Marcus and my other junior colleagues on this project?

Oh my God…

What have I done?

“You’ll never work in architecture again,” Rod says. “You can expect a call from our attorneys.”

“Yeah? And you can expect a call from mine.”

He rolls his eyes. “Your mother and your brother? Small-town attorneys?”

He thinks I’m a spoiled little brat who has money shooting out her ass? Fine. I’ll make it work for me. “Yeah, small-town attorneys with the Steel fortune behind them. Good luck with all that.”

My heart is thundering. My purse is still around my shoulder, and I walk out, trying to maintain an air of calm as I pass reception and leave the office. The rest of the office doesn’t seem to have heard my altercation with Rod. Or maybe they did. Maybe he’s such a fucking creep that they all looked the other way.

Once the elevator doors open and I’m inside, even though I know they’re monitored, I slide down to the floor, put my head in my hands.

I did the right thing. The thing I had chosen not to do after the talk with my father.

There’s no reason to feel guilty.

I don’t need the job. Even if they blacklist me.

I’ll start my own architecture firm. One built on Steel values.

I’ll leave the state of Colorado if I have to.

But I won’t let the snakes here beat me.

The elevator dings, and the doors open on the first floor.

I’m still sitting on the floor and the two people waiting for the elevator eye me suspiciously.

My cheeks are hot, probably as red as a candy apple, but I don’t give a shit. I silently get to my feet and walk out, my head held high.

I may have just doomed my career, but at least I’ll never go hungry.

And I’ll make sure that if Marcus needs anything, an anonymous donation will be sent to his family.

As for Rod and Lund and Lopez?

---