Page 83 of Degrading Her

None of it mattered, anyway. Once I got in touch with Fiona, I’d sign over the papers and she’d be the owner of New Host Library, the one responsible for letting this place shine, or burning it to the ground. She had finally lost the game, saying those words that I had longed to hear. But she had shot the gun, willing to sacrifice herself for her library. As if she wanted her dream career more than anything, even me.

Or had she pulled the trigger to save me, somehow?

That must have been why I wanted to get out of this place. If that was the case, I truly didn’t deserve her.

I scanned the building. Three empty desks in the staff room. My windowed office. The tall aisles of books. The computer room. At least she would finally have her library.

And what did I get out of all of this?

I knew the literal answer: Hatchcom Focus’s men and contracts. A family business that would continue to obliterate the competition. A brother and employees that were loyal to me. And a woman who hated me, even if she had gotten what she wanted.

None of it was worth it.

I went to her desk. A hot pink sticky note hung on the bottom of the monitor:Maisie?and another that read,BooksAll,thenNHLPierce,the username and password for the library’s system. I took out my red and silver dice, placing them underneath her monitor, a symbol of my defeat. My attorney would bring her the documents of ownership. That would be the easiest way to deal with this.

Did she realize she had won the library? Or was she too furious to accept her victory?

I stopped at the back door, my fingers on the light switch. I turned it off, then glanced at the rest of the building again. The dice on her desk loomed like red embers of a dying fire. My fingers twitched in my pocket, itching for them.

I could go to Fiona. Apologize. Say that I was stupid. That she didn’t deserve any of this. That I was a cruel bastard for doing this to her. And she might never accept my apology.

My jaw clenched.Fuck it.It wasn’t about her acceptance. It was about making this right.

In the SUV, I drove to her apartment by myself again, both eager to see her, and dreading it. I hated admitting I was wrong. It was a loss. Defeat. Surrender. And perhaps I was surrendering to Fiona. She was stronger thanIhad expected. And it wasn’t her fault that she had failed to see who I was. I had made sure that she wouldn’t, because I wanted her to fall in love with me, like I had fallen for her. To make her just as weak as she had made me.

And that wasn’t right.

I cruised through the open gate to the parking spaces outside of her building, but her car wasn’t there. I dialed Fiona anyway, holding my breath. It went straight to voicemail.

I drove over to the satellite campus, circling the parking lot twice before deciding she wasn’t there either. I even went to that stupid nightclub, but the owner said he hadn’t seen her.

As a last resort, I dialed Maisie.

“What?” she snapped.

“Where’s your sister?” I asked.

“I doubt she wants to talk to you.”

“I need to see her.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she said. “If you weren’t my brother-in-law, I’d make sure you knew exactly what?—”

I cut her off: “She’s not at her apartment. Not at the library. Not at the college. You dropped her off last night?”

Maisie paused, noticing my tension. “Yeah,” she said hesitantly. “It was pretty late. I don’t know where she would have gone. You said you checked the college?”

“Yeah. She didn’t mention anything to you?”

She cleared her throat. “No.”

“Can you call her?” I asked. There was a better chance that Fiona would pick up the phone for her sister.

“I’ll call you back,” Maisie said.

I sat in the front seat, focusing on the nightclub. The seconds ticked by, making my head spin.

Finally, my phone vibrated.

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