Page 97 of Octane

He continues to look at me but stays quiet.

“It’s just, I was a little winded on my walk earlier today. I haven’t been exercising as much as usual. I’m starting to feel out of shape.”

“Hmm.” He makes a sound.

Wiping his face with a napkin, he takes a drink of his water before saying more.

“I suppose that would be alright,” he answers.

I’m honestly surprised that he said yes. I’m able to keep the shock off of my face, but I can’t help getting caught up in the fear over actually going to see Jackson now.

“Thank you,” I respond, offering him a small smile so I don’t seem ungrateful.

Daniel gets up from the dinner table and walks to his office. I can hear him take the stopper off of his decanter and pour himself a glass of scotch. I feel a little more relaxed as he begins his nightly routine. Scotch in his office while he goes over whatever business that may require his attention. Checking his stocks to make sure he’s still rich. Reading the newspaper will come last before he goes to sleep.

I busy myself with clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen. I work diligently, but I make sure not to rush through it so I don’t raise any suspicion.

After the dishes are all put away, I change into some of my workout clothes then walk into his office to let him know I’m leaving.

“I’m going to the gym now,” I begin. “Thank you again.”

“You have twenty minutes,” he informs me.

I nod my head and leave the condo. I keep my composure until I get about halfway down the hall, then I break out into a jog. Hitting the up arrow when I reach the elevator, I don’t have to wait very long before it arrives, thankfully. I enter the access code to get to the penthouse then the elevator rises. When the doors open, I run to his door and knock hastily.

“Jackson! It’s Sawyer, are you there?”

It doesn’t take him long to answer, and when he opens the door, I’m hit with both fury and sorrow. I thought Daniel looked bad. Jackson has a black eye, a fat lip, and his fingers are scraped to hell.

I inhale sharply at the sight.

“Oh, my God!” I screech as he waves me inside. “Are you okay?”

I place my palm on his uninjured cheek.

“I’ll be fine.” He gives me a small, unconvincing smile. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“When Daniel came in, he told me that you jumped him in the parking lot.” Jackson’s good eye narrows. “I knew he was lying. He thinks I’m at the gym, I just needed to see if you’re okay.”

He leads me to his sofa and we sit down.

“Have you put anything on it yet?” I ask.

“I put some ice on my hand.”

“Here, let me get you something.” I walk to his kitchen and poke around in the freezer. He has an ice pack in there, so I grab that and a wet paper towel, then I join him once more on the sofa.

“Here, this is for your face,” I hand him the ice pack, “let me see your hand.”

I wrap his ring and pinky fingers in the wet paper towel to try and soothe some of the scrapes and clean some of the dried blood off.

“What happened?”

Jackson sighs. “It was my fault. I saw him getting out of his car. I shouldn’t have said anything to him, but I snapped and couldn’t keep my mouth shut. After I said what I needed to say, I walked away, and he jumped me from behind.”

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

“It’s not your fault. But I’m glad you’re here. I spoke with your father today, and—”

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