Page 28 of Boss Daddy

“Oh my God! Are you okay?”

My gut tightens. She should be at work at the bar. Dammit. I was hoping to get in and out with no complications.

Why is she here?My mind flashes to Misha, to his obsession, to the way he always seems to be two steps ahead. Did he send her? Is she here to keep tabs on me?

I shove the paranoia down, forcing myself to breathe. My fingers loosen their grip on the doorknob.

“Hey!” I try my best to sound chipper, like I’m totally happy to see her. “Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be? What’s up, girlie?”

I catch my reflection when I follow her gaze toward the hallway mirror. The slap from earlier still burns, a faint red mark acrossmy cheek, stark against my pale skin.

Tiffany sets her phone down on the coffee table. “Oh my God,” she repeats. Her eyes are locked on my face. “What the hell happened?”

I let out a breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on me. The truth is acid in my mouth, but there’s no point in hiding it.

“Misha sent someone after me.”

Her eyes flash. “Are you fucking serious?”

“One of Misha’s goons tried to take me to him. He crept up on me when I was walking to the subway. When I refused to go with him, he slapped me.” I glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction. “My new boss took care of it.”

Tiffany’s eyes widen again, her lips parting slightly. Shock registers on her face, clear and raw. For a second, she just stares at me, the color draining from her cheeks. “Hehityou?”

“Yeah. It’s fine now. Like I said, my new boss took care of it.”

I head straight to the bedroom, my steps heavy, my mind a blur. The walls of our tiny, shared space seem to close in on me, suffocating. I reach under the bed and grab my duffel bag. As I unzip it, I glance around the room. I need to cram my whole life into this bag and I have no idea where to start.

I begin by throwing random clothes in—shirts, jeans, a couple of hoodies, underthings. My movements are quick and mechanical. I don’t have much, but suddenly it feels like a lot.

“What’s happening?” she asks, watching me as I pack. “Misha sends some asshole to hurt you, your bosstakes care of it,whatever that means, and now you’re packing a bag. Erin, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

I take a deep breath before turning around. Tiffany leans in the doorway, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I’m going away for a while,” I say, my tone clipped. “If you guys need a new roommate, go ahead. I’ll figure something out later.”

She gasps. “You’re moving out? Just like that?”

Tiffany and I aren’t that close, but I should tell her the truth. “I know this sounds insane, but I’m going to stay with Samuel until Misha cools off.”

“Your boss. Seriously? You’re going to stay with him? Like, at his place?”

“Like I said, I know it sounds insane. But I’d hoped Misha was done with me. Apparently, he’s not. So, I either have to leave town or stay with Samuel until this all blows over.”

Tiffany sits down next to me. “You’re right, this does sound insane. But you do have to get somewhere safe.”

Samuel’s still a big question mark, but right now he’s my safest bet. “Exactly. Anyway, listen, he’s waiting for me outside, so I need to go.”

She springs up and rushes to the window in the living room.

I sling the duffel bag over my shoulder and head to the bathroom. I grab my toiletries and personal effects and toss them into a smaller bag.

“Holy shit, nice ride. He’d better not idle it there for too long in this neighborhood, though. I bet every pair of eyes on the block is on it right now.”

I laugh to myself at the idea of some punk coming up on Samuel, getting a swift punch to the face—if they’re lucky. I shove the rest of my stuff in the bag and head back to the bedroom.

My social work books are there, practically staring at me. I know it’s stupid, I know I don’t have the room. All the same, I rush over and scoop them up, cramming them into the last bit of free space in my duffel bag.

Tiffany is standing at the door again. Her face is glum. Something’s wrong.

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