Page 94 of Hate You Forever (Hate 1)

“What is?” I’m not sure what he’d find interesting about sitting in a restaurant for hours, doing nothing. He wouldn’t even eat when I offered to take his order.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.” He’s watching me as I round the corner to sit at my desk. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, never wavering for a moment.

“A waitress bussing tables for tips?” I joke.

“Free.” It’s one word that actually stuns me. I know he’s been trained to watch his surroundings, but I didn’t realize he was paying that much attention to me personally. “You get lost in your work, and you seem happy. Like the shadows clouding your vision evaporate and you can let go of the tension for a while. The place where most people are usually stressed—work—you seem to be the happiest.”

“This place is important to me. It’s where I can truly be myself, without feeling the judgment and pressure from the outside world. Even though it’s crumbling to the ground, the place holds meaning in my heart.” My voice cracks a little, giving away the emotion the restaurant brings out in me.

“I can tell. It’s not a bad thing to care so much about it.” He’s looking at me with soft eyes.

This is something I feel like Rush probably understands. From what it seems, he’s extremely close with his family, spending as much time as he can with them when he’s not working. He’s from the West Side, so he understands what it’s like to not have much, always needing to work hard to provide, and keep the things that are important to you close.

Instead of responding, I just nod to keep from cracking under the sudden rush of emotions flooding me at the thought of losing this place. He holds my gaze a moment longer, before I drop my attention to the work books in front of me.

I’m not sure how long I spend working through our budget for the next month. Rush sits there, quietly scrolling on his phone, going through work emails and checking up on security for the house.

Leaning back in the chair, I stretch my arms above my head, groaning at how stiff my body is. Rush’s eyes narrow in on my stomach, and I realize my tank top has ridden up, exposing my skin. My cheeks heat at how intensely he’s looking at me. His eyes flare like he wants to see more.

“Find that interesting too?” I joke, but his face drops, his eyes snapping to mine guiltily. “I’m just messing with you. Don’t look like you’re going to shit your pants.”

“I... My bad.” He gives me a lopsided grin, but I can see the nerves in his eyes.

“You need to relax a little. I’m not going to run off to Marnix and snitch on you for having eyes.” He visibly relaxes at my admission. Not sure why he’d think I’d tell Marnix anything though. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah. Got everything taken care of?” He’s looking over my books, seeing the numbers and items I’ve written into them. Most people use a computer system for this stuff now, but I prefer my handwritten books. It helps me remember exactly what’s coming in and out of the restaurant.

“I think so. If not, it can wait. I’m tired.” Looking up at the clock, I see that it’s already four. My brain feels exhausted, and I could easily go for a bubble bath right now to relax. I get up from my desk and head out the door, with Rush following right behind me.

Before I make it more than a few steps, I stop dead, my heart jumping into my throat, and my stomach feeling like it hit the floor. Rush runs into me, causing me to stumble forward a bit, but he latches onto my biceps before I fall.

No. This can’t be happening.

My mind has to be playing tricks on me. I can feel my body going numb at the sight in front of me. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

I blink rapidly, desperate to see if I’m just imagining him again, but every time I open my eyes he’s still there. Still looking like the devil in disguise.

Zayan’s tall, broad frame looks imposing, taking up most of the hallway space as he casually leans against the wall with his foot propped against it.

My monster.

My nightmare.

He’s really here.

All I want for this is to be some kind of sick joke. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe this is my mind playing games with me again. He can’t be here.

I look back at Rush, and find him glaring at Zayan. He has no idea who he is, but he can obviously tell I’m not okay. I can feel the tension radiating off of him as he tightens his grip on my arms.

“Tara?” Rush’s voice is questioning.

“It’s okay, Rush. This man was just leaving,” I reply, loud enough for Zayan to hear the warning in my tone.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. You’re with another man? Hmm, I wonder what your husband would think.” Zayan’s cold, dead eyes stare at where Rush’s hands are holding me up. His words are filled with malice that anyone else might not pick up on, but I can tell. I know when he’s pissed, when he’s ready to burst, and he’s treading a fine line right now.

I wiggle out from Rush’s hold, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to hide Zayan’s effect on me. Pretending that seeing him doesn’t fill me with fear, like I don’t want to bolt right now and never look back.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

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