Page 2 of Rush of Jealousy

“Yes!”

“You are the one sneaking into my building, and I can only assume tricking and manipulating my employees. You are attackingme. On my turf, might I add. So if you think you are going to control this situation now, think again.”

“Don’t you dare play the victim!” I scream, pushing my bound body forward.

Graham releases my wrists.

“You need to calm down,” he warns.

“Did you,” I start in a shaky voice, “drug me the night at The Shack?”

“Of course not!” he snaps. “Are you out of your mind? How can you even think that? I’ve been spending all of my energy trying to protect you! I am in love with you and you have no freaking clue just how much. I would never hurt you.”

“Love?”

“Yes, dammit.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and glances away from me for just a second. “I tried to avoid it, trust me, I did. But there can be no more denying the feelings I have for you.”

“You are inlovewith me?” My words come out so slow. “You have got to be joking!”

“It’s true,” he admits without hesitation.

“No.” I shake my head adamantly. My nose runs with my watery eyes. “No, Graham. None of this”—I sweep my hands out—“is love. This is lies. Betrayal. Secrets. And even when caught, you have no concept of telling the truth. This is not love, you lunatic! This is some demented emotion you fabricated in your head that I am not interested in accepting.”

“You need to calm the hell down. And then we can discuss this like adults.”

“No.” Minutes ago I wanted an explanation but not anymore. I won’t trust whatever he has to say anyway.

“Yes, Angela.” He sighs. “Let’s go chat in my office where it will be more comfortable.”

“No! Do you not even hear me? I do not want to listen to you spew lies and try to cover up this crap! I need to clear my head and—”

My words are halted as he grabs my elbow and guides me out of the room. Several of his employees are hovering around a coffee maker whispering what I can only assume is speculative gossip about me. Tears burn my eyes as I try to make sense of everything. Nothing adds up. But I need time to think. The only way to clear my head is to have time away from Graham.

“If you all still want to have a job after you come back from your break, then I would advise you to keep your mouths shut!” he snaps over to the snack area.

Instantly the room goes silent, and for that I’m thankful. Graham’s hand still clenches my elbow, but the emotional hold on me has already been shattered. I tug my coat around me tighter, crossing my arms at my chest.

When we get to the elevator, I twist out of his hold and shove him with all of my force. He stumbles backward as I dart into the waiting car and slam my hand against the close button. Graham yells my name and hits what I assume are the metal protective doors with his fists. The echoing sound and the string of muffled curse words fill my ears. I punch the lobby button and wait for the descent.

I cannot believe I fell for the devil disguised as a white knight. Just when I think it is safe to leave my heart unprotected, it gets broken. Again. I dig through my bag for another pill to help some of the pain fade away. I look down at my wrinkled attire and try to remember this moment in time. I guess this is what rock bottom looks like. I commit it to memory, so when I feel like slipping into it again, I will know better.

The doors open, and I exit in a hurry. I hear my name being called by voices I don’t recognize, but I keep walking my fast pace. I stomp past the water fountains. Then I cross in front of the section of couches. I approach the security checkpoint with determination pumping through my veins.

When I get to the metal detectors, I stumble backward, as an arm grabs at me. “Hey!” I resist and flail, only causing my body to be pulled into a wall of hard muscle and detained.

“Miss McFee,” the stranger says, out of breath. “Stop fighting.”

“Let me go!” I demand, spinning my body around to see a man wearing a headset and security badge that is pinned to his uniform. “Please,” I beg.

“I’m not at liberty to let you leave this building, ma’am.”

“Please,” I plea. “Please just let me go. Tell your boss I’ll text him.” I try to sound convincing.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracks just enough to show a sliver of sensitivity.

“Please,” I say again. “I just need to breathe.” I look toward the windows to the outside world, my freedom. “I just need some fresh air.”

I wait for the sympathetic look to fill his eyes, and then I jerk to the side and run toward the emergency exit door. I am almost there when out of nowhere, Graham appears from what I assume is a stairwell door. He moves to block the exit I am on a mission to get through. As soon as my mind can catch up and I realize it is a futile attempt, I stop and hunch my shoulders in defeat.

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