Page 8 of Crawl
She only likes him because he’s a teacher too. “I broke up with him almost a year ago.”
“But I thought you two stayed friends?” she asks, a hopeful lilt to her voice. “I was hoping you’d get back together.”
I groan. Nothimagain. The ceiling creaks; Cash crosses from his upstairs office to another room. Honestly, Cash is an option too, but dealing with him outside of this estate makes my head hurt. The maintenance man from this morning fills my mind: a nameless, faceless stranger with rippled eyes. If I askhimout on the double date,thatis the best option. Hell, I can even pay him for getting my mother off of my back for once. Maybe I can even screw him afterward. A one-night stand with no feelings attached means there’s a better chance that he’ll be willing to give me what I want.
How is it that I can fantasize about a faceless maintenance man screwing me while I’m tied to a chair, but when it comes to my boss, an actual fairly attractive, wealthy businessman, I can’t stand the thought of him touching me?
“I date around,” I say.
“Hooking up is not dating,” she says.
I laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I got to go. Boss is coming,” I lie.
“Remmie, wait—”
I hang up before she can say another word, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. She still believes there’s hope out there for me, and maybe there is, but I’m not going to search for it. Why waste my time on that when no one watches out for you anyway?
And besides, I have enough to deal with right now. Cash.Cassius Winstone.A man who can do horrible things without any fear of punishment. Jenna is the last person to deserve what he did, and I hate him for it. He may be more like my stepbrother in his assaults, but his mindset isexactlylike my stepdad’s. My stepdad ran away, but Cash won’t be able to leave. Not with me around.
I flip open my laptop. A message comes through my agency email: instructions from Cash on delivering a proposal to the city council. So far, work is easy enough, but the hard part will be putting him in jail where he belongs. Jenna won’t be ruled by his presence anymore.
And if I have to kill him, I will.
CHAPTER 3
Remedy
The phone vibrates on my nightstand like a jackhammer. Jenna’s selfie—all bright red lips and bleach-blond hair—illuminates the screen. I focus my eyes, squinting at the bar on the top of the screen; it’s past eleven o’clock. She never calls this late. My heart races. Something is wrong.
“Hey—”
Her sobs interrupt me, and a sharp pain impales my chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as tenderly as I can.
She heaves between each word: “Are—you—home?”
Her sobs ricochet through the front door, practically blasting it from the hinges. I swing it open as fast as I can. Her hair is matted to her face, a crop top and leggings on like she’s been crying since she left the gym. Sweat beads her brow, mascara streaking her cheeks, her eyelashes practically glued together. She smells faintly like body odor and cheese fries, which means she probably visited her mom at work; it must be really bad. I pull her close, holding her as she cries, her small frame trembling against me, and I bring her inside, sitting her down on my bed. My throat tightens. I hate seeing her cry. She’s my rock. It’s not supposed to be like this.
“What happened?” I ask.
She opens up her phone, clicking her call log. Her last few received calls areLavish PA,but the most recent call is from hours ago. Has she been crying this entire time?
“They don’t believe me,” she says through each breath. “They need proof.”
I close my eyes. Of course they do. That’s what my mom said when I tried to tell her about my stepdad years ago.It’s hard for me to believe that,she said.He loves you, sweetie. Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean he’s hurting you.
My ears pounded, my heart squeezing in my chest. Why don’t they believe Jenna?
“What about your arm?” I ask. She lifts it up, but it’s flawless now; the bruises have healed, the evidence of Cash’s assault gone with them. “Damn it,” I whisper. This is a complete and utter mess.
“What do we do?” she asks. She shifts to the edge of the bed, her palms clutching the comforter. “They said they can’t do anything with him. If they say anything, he could drop the contract. And then what will we do about rent? It’ll be full price, and you know none of us can afford that.” Her breaths are shallow, the veins on her neck throbbing with each word, like her body can’t quite figure out whether to fight or retreat. “They told me I could either keep my new placement or find a new agency, letting go of the contacts I’ve made within LPA.”
Her words jumble and my vision tunnels as my mind focuses on him.
Cassius Winstone thinks he can get away with this because he’s rich. And he will do it again, and again, until someone forces him to stop.
Jenna is locked into place. But me? I’m his current personal assistant and the only person allowed on his property.
