Page 35 of Quinlan

The office light makes it real fucking easy to see the damage I did to my fists. My busted knuckles are bright red against my black keyboard. It doesn’t hurt anymore, which is a shame.

Pain soothes me. The constant companion I’d had throughout my childhood. The thing I’d welcomed into my life once I understood that owning it is better than being its bitch.

The emotional pain was what hurt the most. For Anne’s tears and hunger and agony.

That was when I became truly angry. Furious to the core. I punched every available surface. Walls. Punching bags. People.

The relief it brings is unparalleled.

My phone buzzes on my desk. A message from my sister.

Anne:God, I hate my boss. Loathe him.

I sigh, shaking my head. The story is an old one. She’s been struggling at Caldwell Mullins. The lack of appreciation of her in the small-time marketing company she works at is infuriating.

Their attitude toward her has to have something to do with Langford Marketing, our family company. Since Joseph is the CEO of the biggest company in the States. Anne’s bosses seem to get a kick from showing her that her name means nothing to them.

She stays there to prove to them she can do it anyway. Handles it with grace.

Most times.

When these texts come, I know she’s reached her limit.

My need to snap her boss’s neck is as fiery hot as my obsession for Quinlan is. This girl I’ve never seen in person.

Ridiculous.

Unavoidable.

Me:What’s wrong? Do I need to kill him?

Three dots dance on the screen. If it were really bad, Anne would’ve called. She’s fine, then. No one’s touched her or harassed her.

Nothing major to worry about.

That’s what I tell myself as I grab my bag from under my desk. As I get up to change into my running gear.

They’re just bastards.

My phone buzzes the same moment there’s a knock on the door. The person on the other side doesn’t wait for me to let him in.

Damien never does.

He saunters in, jerking his chin toward the bag in my grip. “Going somewhere?”

My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I read the message before I decide what answer I want to give him.

Anne:Nothing punishable by death. He promoted his wife’s cousin instead of me.

Anne:She doesn’t deserve it. She goes home every day at fucking three, Rome.

“Is that her?” At fucking last, I hear jealousy from my friend. Good to see I’m not alone in this.

“If byher, you mean my sister.” I look up from my phone at him, tilt my head. “Then yes. It’s Anne.”

Damien stares at me for all of two seconds. Straightens the cuffs of his suit jacket. Sarcasm isn’t something he expects of me. Well, tough shit. I never expected my two best friends to lie to me.

“Right, Anne.” He lets out a laugh, and I see it in his eyes. He knows I might be talking to Anne. That’s not where I’m headed. “Everything okay? You scowled back there.”

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