Page 79 of Power Twist

The distance between us feels like miles as I stare at his broken posture from across the porch. Every muscle screams to run to him, to wrap my arms around his neck and ease the pain he's clearly going through. But I can't. I won't. I deserve the time to process it all. He's had months to work through it, to come to terms with his actions. I've had fifteen minutes.

“Just don't tell me we're over,” he whispers, the words barely audible over the birds’ cheery morning songs.

“Of course not,” I say with force so he knows that's not even a consideration. “I just need a second to think this over. I know you meant well, Trey, and I know you did it for both of us, but I still need time to process it all, you know?”

His shoulders slump, rounding further. I swallow back the building tears and take a step toward the back door. Once inside, I shut the door behind me and lean against it, tugging the blanket tighter around my shoulders and resting my chin on my fists. For the first time in my life, my mind is silent, no internal conversations to decipher through.

Around me, the beta team scuffles about, their loud voices and heavy footsteps barely registering as more than distant background noise.

I almost died.

Trey almost died.

Trey’s engaged.

Raising my shoulders, I take shelter in the thick blanket as I move toward the stairs to get ready for my meeting with Kyle.

First I’ll handle Kyle, and then I’ll process this morning’s conversation.

One thing at a time.

Chapter Twenty-One

Randi

Itake a deep inhale of the stale warm air. I’d actually prefer it to be colder than this stuffy, germ-breeding hotness. Careful to keep my movements inconspicuous, I slide two fingers beneath my stiff collar and give a slight tug away from my sweaty skin. Maybe it’s not that warm in here to everyone else, but to me, with my body on high alert, I’m not sure an ice bath would be enough to cool me down. My pulse races beneath my skin, making my core temperature soar even higher.

My tongue sticks to the roof of my dry mouth as my palms dampen with a slick sheen of sweat.

The thick mahogany door stands before me. With a quick glance right and then left, I rap my knuckles against the solid surface. I smooth my palms down my jacket and ensure the bright blue dress shirt remains tucked in on the sides of my black tailored pantsuit. I have a love for good suits, but this one is my favorite by far. The tailor cut it to accentuate the curves I have while hiding the areas that still need 'filling out.' Even with the muscle-building workouts Trey planned out and the self-defense lessons with Sarah, I've only gained ten pounds and have several more to go. Even at five foot seven, my frame is still too thin. Where most see a woman dedicated to her appearance, I see a woman still clinging to her past life. Strange how those two contradict each other in this world. They see someone thick and beautiful where the reality is the person is only eating just enough to stay alive.

Two years ago, when Kyle pulled me from the desolate spot I was in, I hated the idea of the woman I am now. But now that I'm here, I want more, think I deserve more than I was given. A good thing or a bad thing? Who knows.

I knock again, this time putting a little annoyance into my three sharp taps. Before my hand can fall back to my side, the door whooshes open. I take a hesitant step back at the wild look in Kyle's bloodshot eyes. His suit is wrinkled, tie askew, and hair disheveled like he's run his fingers through it too many times.

It’s not even 8:00 a.m.

Not the typical perfectly styled Kyle I'm used to.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Squaring my shoulders, I step into the Oval Office, barely squeezing between Kyle and the doorframe without touching either. My steps falter when I find Shawn lounging completely relaxed along one of the love seats. I give him a quick once-over but find nothing amiss, unlike Kyle.

Shawn’s gaze cuts to Kyle, his smirk growing to a full grin.

“Yeah, man, what's wrong?” he asks innocently, but the hint of a taunt laces his words.

“Get out, Shawn. Go do your fucking job,” Kyle barks.

The two men engage in a stare-off as Shawn meanders to the door. Before he steps out, he glances back to where I still stand, unmoving, in the middle of the room.

“Good to see you in one piece, Trailer.” That sinister smile of his pulls his lips up. I suppress a terrified shudder. “Maybe next time you won't be so lucky.”

I suck in a quick breath and hold it.

His chuckle continues as he marches down the hall until Kyle slams the heavy wooden door shut, cutting off any noise.

“I heard about last night,” Kyle grumbles as he brushes past me to sit behind the most important desk in history. “How'd you make it out alive?”

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