Page 17 of Whatever It Takes

I snatch up my suitcase—suddenly manifesting superhuman strength—and throw it next to the duffel bag with no trouble. Pure, unadulterated fury will give a person an extra power boost, apparently.

I tell myself not to look, but Steffanie is in a long T-shirt and nothing else.

Damn.

She’s got really nice legs. They’re long and toned.

Jameson is in his suit pants with his button-down on but untucked, and his head whips in my direction at the sound of the suitcase hitting the floor. “What the hell, Briar?”

I scoff.

Or snort.

It’s some undignified combination of the two, and I ignore it as I snag the remaining bag, tossing it next to the others.

“I’m pretty sure I should be asking you that,” I snap, swiping my hair back from my face. “But I actually don’t care. Best of luck to the both of you. By the way, Easton said if you don’t get your shit together, you’re fired.”

I finally let go of the door, and it closes as I dig in my pocket for his key.

Steffanie grimaces, closing her door as soon as he’s fully outside of it.

“Her hot water heater has been leaking all day. I was helping her clean up the mess,” Jameson says, crossing the hall.

I grab the keyring from my pocket and chuck it at him. “Oh, I’m sure something was leaking all right, but we both know this building has twenty-four-houron-sitemaintenance.”

“What the hell is this? I don’t answer a few of your calls, so you throw a fit and move out?” He growls, stepping closer.

I slide backward, and my head bumps the wall.

“Just go back inside her apartment. I’ll be gone by the time you come back out,” I hiss, tilting my chin into the air. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

I hate that he’s so much bigger than I am and that I just retreatedfrom him.

If anyone should have to back up, it should be him.

I haven’t done anything wrong.

Well, aside from stealing his duffel bag and leaving with no warning, but by my estimation, that’s the least he deserves. Wherever I end up, I’m going to take self-defense lessons.

I’m never going to be this vulnerable again. When Briar ceases to exist, so does this version of me. Gone will be the woman that men wanted weak, so I couldn’t fight back or defend myself.

Jameson’s face betrays his anger.

If I wasn’t backed up against a literal wall, I’d take another step away.

“I told you what happened. If you don’t believe me, that’s on you, but don’t call me a cheater.” He grabs my arm, tugging me toward the door to his penthouse. “You’re not fucking leaving.”

“I am!” I pivot, slamming my knee into his balls. He lets out anoomph, which is satisfying, but he slams my shoulder into the wall and twists my wrist in one painful movement.

A yelp escapes as I try to correct my balance enough that I won’t fall over when I slam my palm up and into his jaw. It’s one move I saw on a video about easy ways for women to escape. I hope that instructor knew what he was talking about.

“Unless you’d like me to break your neck right here in the hallway, I suggest you release Briarright the fuck now.” Easton’s voice sounds extra deadly. The man always sounds dangerous, but a low growl rattles around the hallway as he approaches, and it makes me shiver.

Thank God.

I’m not too proud to admit that I could really use some backup. Jameson is acting a little too unhinged for me to trust that he’ll calm down and let me go.

“Stay the fuck out of this, East,” Jameson snarls back.

---