Page 54 of The Savior

CHAPTER TWENTY

When Chelsea had tracked down Mac, she could tell that Calhoun already looped him in. Maybe the entire floor knew that their boss thought she was drinking while doing paperwork in the basement.

Chelsea had swung by Dr. Casper’s office, also, crossing her fingers that the doctor would relay to Calhoun the pointlessness of her forced time off, but Calhoun had headed her off there too. The doctor was waiting and ready for her, making the trip futile—unless you counted Dr. Casper repeating her nowrequiredtime off and handing her a filled bottle of Xanax.

The anxiety medicine made Chelsea incrementally more anxious.Should I take it? Why would I? Or do I now have a reason to?The bottle was more anxiety inducing than she could’ve imagined, and it took Chelsea all of two minutes at home to dump the pills down the toilet.

The moment the pills whooshed down the drain, her worries melted away. But she would go nuts without anything to do. She even had strict instructions not tothinkabout Zee Zee until she came back. Mac seemed positively gleeful, and she didn’t know if that was because Chelsea had, technically, never taken a vacation, or maybe Mac hoped Calhoun would release him from their partnership.

Boredom had already planted its claws into her shoulders, and she didn’t know what to do other than clean. That finished quickly, so Chelsea paced. First, she walked laps around her condo, then she moved outside, striding through the parking lot, and the open grass area that the condo complex centered around.

Finally, she gave up and lay on a park bench, staring at the bright-blue sky, which swirled with big cotton-ball clouds.

Another storm would come in later, most likely much like the thunderstorm from the night before, but for now, she would wait until something besides Zee Zee Mars inspired her.

“What are you doing down there?”

Chelsea turned toward the voice, and the condo’s maintenance manager ambled down the path. Something safe and knowledgeable always shined in Raul’s face. He knew how to fix every problem, many of them having nothing to do with the condo’s physical property.

Raul tilted his head as though she were a curious subject lying on the park bench in the middle of a workday.

To be fair, she probablywascurious-looking. “I’m… getting some exercise.”

Chelsea stretched as if she’d recently finished a workout.

“Is that what Marshals call ‘pacing’? Exercising?”

Busted!She sat up. “Maybe. But today, I’m officially on vacation.”

His nose crinkled as though the air stank. “Sounds awful.”

“I’m bored,” she replied.

“I can tell.” He gestured across the street. “Go work out. It’ll clear your head.”

The neighborhood gym, Muscled Up, suddenly called to her despite the fact that she felt like a half-dunked muffin. Hours ago, a workout would’ve been torture, but now she needed to push herself. Calhoun could allude to her lack of fitness for duty, but she could prove otherwise, even if it was only to herself.

“Go on.” Raul shooed her. “Before you pace again, and I have to seed the lawn.”

They shared a laugh, and she waved goodbye to go change into workout clothes. After she’d finished a protein bar and an apple, she grabbed her bottle of water and headed out the door.

Gone was the pure-azure sky, and thunder echoed distantly as dark clouds churned. Just as quickly as her day had changed, the sky had, too, and Chelsea opted to drive to Muscled Up, even if it was close.

She parked in front of the gym. A large Popeye arm served as their logo, and a young couple stepped out as she waited to go in.

The sign for Smokey’s caught her eye. The bar was only a few storefronts down. She stared, letting the door to Muscled Up close.

The previous night, with its memories of hands brushing, looks lingering, and the warmth of their close proximity, held her spellbound. Goose bumps burst down her bare arms, making her shiver. A two-second-recall of their unrestrained hug looped through her brain.

When the door to Muscled Up opened again and jarred Chelsea, she snapped from the delicious moment where Liam’s thick arms wrapped around her.

She shuffled in and swiped her plastic key chain card.

“Is the temperature dropping again?” the desk girl asked.

Chelsea paused, realizing that shiver bumps covered her arms. “Maybe so.” Then she rushed away.

Reacting to Liam was shaking everything she fundamentally understood about herself—her loyalty, her likes and interests, and her ability to control the most basic of responses.

Another round of shivers danced down her spine.Whoo boy. That had to stop.A run or maybe pull-ups could clear her mind of the vivid, visceral, highly inappropriate recollections.

Otherwise, Chelsea was nothing except traitorous and horny. Nothing good would come of that combination.

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