Page 111 of Happily Never After

Luke rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck. “I’ve hired a private security team,” he said quietly. “They should be here any minute.”

This shit again. “Luke, I don’t need private security. Remember I had a PI and police detail the first time I got abducted.”

“You do need them. Because I won’t be here.”

A ball of lead dropped into her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to stay at a hotel. I can’t keep watching you do this. I can’t be in love with someone who doesn’t care if she lives or dies.”

The weight of his words hit her like a Mack truck. What was he saying?

“Luke, please?—”

“It’s done, Claire. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” He turned and left the room without looking back.

The room echoed with his absence.

She collapsed onto the couch. This couldn’t be happening. Her entire world was crumbling beneath her. She was losing count of the number of times douchey frat boys had tried to kill her. Her biggest client had fired her. And Luke had just effectively dumped her. Where could she go from here?

Dog tags jingled. Rosie jumped onto the couch next to her and shoved her head under Claire’s arm. She sighed like she had been the one with the long day.

Her throat still burned from the pepper spray. Claire reached for her glass of water, but her fingers were trembling too hard.

Smash. Water splashed her feet. Glass shards glistened on the floor.

Perfect. Just perfect. She dropped to her knees and picked up the shards, cradling them in her palm. A creeping sense of doom was setting in.

“Stay,” she said to Rosie and Winston. She’d run the vacuum cleaner over the hardwood floors to suck up the tiny fragments.

The edges of her vision blurred as she tossed the glass into the garbage can. One of the shards sliced across her finger.

“Ouch.”

A well of crimson rose, dribbling down her finger onto the floor. She gripped the sink and breathed forcefully through her nose, willing her galloping heart to settle. Her hands shook.

There was a clatter behind her. Something wheeled across the tiles in the entryway. So he really was leaving. The wheels paused for a moment, and she lifted her head. A sliver of moon peered back at her through the kitchen window.

Would he change his mind? The front door opened, then slammed shut. The silence in the house was palpable.

She was alone.

The weight of the day hit her all at once. Tears she had been holding back for weeks dribbled messily down her cheeks. Her chest heaved, and she bit her tongue to fight back the sobs that threatened to erupt. Blood dripped into the sink, swirling with water and disappearing down the drain.

How much more was she expected to take? Her knees gave out, and she slid down the cabinet until she sprawled on the floor.

The pitter-patter of paws announced Rosie and Winston’s entrance. Rosie laid her snoot on Claire’s trembling thigh and whined. Winston plowed into the kitchen island before curling up at Claire’s side.

She had almost died today. And it was partially her fault. Why didn’t she just wait? What had she even gained from today? Sure, Brad’s proposal was falling apart. It was what she had hoped for. But that didn’t give her the satisfaction she thought it would.

The only “win” was unmasking another member of ESA. Her eyes closed. In fact, she would never forget that face. The cold eyes, the humorless smile. Contempt oozing from every pore. Hooked nose. Greasy, matted hair. Eyes blacker than coal.

Her heartbeat sped up to a full gallop, and pain flared across her chest. Was she having a heart attack on top of everything?

“Count to ten,” she instructed herself sternly. She counted, taking deep breaths. “I am not dying.” The chest pain begged to differ. Maybe she should call Dr. Goulding.

Oh, wait, that was right. She couldn’t call Dr. Goulding. She couldn’t call anyone, actually. Her waterlogged phone was sitting in a bowl of rice on the counter.

Forcing breaths in and out, she climbed to her feet. Her laptop sat on the island. She connected to the Wi-Fi and made a video call.

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