Page 61 of Decoded
Understanding, she nods, “But do you think maybe before you head that way you could point me in the direction of some of the single men in this town? If I’m not going to spend the day with you, I may as well spend it under someone else.”
Chapter forty-one
Keaton
I
roll over to press myself into Anna’s soft body, but the cold side of the bed is just a reminder of what I’ve lost. Everything from the past few days comes rushing back into my brain. I really am such a fucking idiot. I should have talked to her, but instead I chose to believe that she betrayed me.
Groaning, I move my sluggish-from-too-much-bourbon body to the bathroom and get ready for another rough day at work, knowing the woman I love won’t be there. I’ve been working in Lincoln’s office this week to avoid seeing her empty desk. I don’t want her to quit. I don’t want her to leave. But I don’t know if I want to see her right now, either.
“I can’t be the assistant for both of you. And I refuse to be his,” Amanda complains to Lincoln, jerking her thumb in my direction.
“What did I do?” I ask, but I know what I did. I fucked up. I didn’t talk to Anna when I had the chance. I pushed her away with drunken lies I only typed to try and protect myself.
Amanda glares at me. “You sit here playing the victim, when you have no idea what that poor girl has been through.”
“I do know. She told me about the messages he sent. But she didn’t tell me about the fact she slept with the man.”
“Because she didn’t, you idiot!” Amanda shouts at me, making Lincoln smile so big I want to slap it off his face.
“I asked her if it was true and she said yes. You were standing right there, Amanda.”
“You asked her if he touched her. You asked her if he tasted her. Did you ask her if she wanted it?”
Her question leaves me frozen and sick to my stomach. I knew the man was a lot of talk and she even told me that he would occasionally touch her back or run his hand across hers. But is the man so evil that he would force himself on her?
“What do you mean?”
Amanda shakes her head, “It’s not my story to tell. You need to ask her.”
I grit my teeth. “Well, she won’t fucking talk to me, so if you know something about Anna, then you better fucking tell me or you’re out of a job.”
“The fuck you will. She’s my assistant, asshole,” Lincoln interjects.
“And I own the majority share of the company. I’m the CEO. I can fire her if I damn well want to.”
“Now you’re playing that card? And people think I’m a dick,” he grumbles,
I take a deep breath and try to calm my tone, “Amanda, please tell me.”
She looks at me with heavy eyes and sighs. “I can’t Keaton.” I go to say something, but she holds her hand up to stop me. “Not because you’re being a massive dick right now, and the fact you threatened my job when we both know your brother wouldn’t be able to function without me,” I look over at Lincoln and we both shrug, “But because I promised Anna. If you want to try and hear it from her before she leaves, she texted me earlier today asking if you were at the office. She’s going to your place to get the rest of her things before she leaves.”
“Before she leaves?”
“She’s moving back in with her parents for now.”
“But that’s where he is,” I say, stating the obvious.
Amanda's next words slice right through my heart, “But it’s where you’re not.”
November air nips at the back of my neck, and I can smell that rain is coming. It doesn’t matter. It can pour sheets down on me for all I care. Nothing will stop me from having the opportunity to talk to Anna. I need to convince her to stay. Convince her she still loves me. Convince her that I still love her. That I never stopped. That I never will.
I think back to all the signs she gave me that Daniel had taken things too far. The box. That time in the kitchen when I called her “sweet girl.” The way she tensed up in my office when I tried to have my way with her. Why wasn’t I able to decode these things sooner?
Heavy drops begin to fall, but I don’t mind. The only thing I care about is that Anna is here and I desperately need her to hear me out before it’s too late. I storm into my house and call out her name but am only answered by silence. “Anna!” I shout again, darting between the rooms, but finding the house completely empty.
Defeated, I walk outside and take a longful look down the road, but that’s when I see it. Her small, white sedan sitting in my driveway. She’s here. I turn and find myself racing down the stone path to the guesthouse where I pray she’s double checking to make sure she has the rest of her things.
