Page 73 of My Grumpy Billionaire Protector

In my own room, I sit down in front of my desk and wait for the laptop to start. While it does, I drum my fingers against the desk as my knee is bouncing up and down.

What the fuck am I doing?

Am I really sticking my neck out for the man who took Evie away from her family?

I, of all people, know what it’s like to be separated from my family, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Evie is lucky enough to have a good relationship with her family, but it has taken hard work and effort on both ends. My parents, on the other hand, wrote me off not long after I was taken, and I have struggled to make my peace with it. They used to cross my mind a lot.

They still do, too often for my liking.

Being around Evie has brought up all sorts of baggage I want to leave unclaimed.

Yet, I find myself staring at the screen as I pull up the search engine and look my parents up. The last time I did that had been a year after starting my company, and I spent hours beforehand drowning my demons in a whiskey bottle. I remembered the blood pumping through my veins and the rush of air as I found their Facebook pages and studied every inch of them.

Nowadays, their wall is filled with pictures of family gatherings and holiday cards with the three of them posing in front of a large tree. I sit back in my chair and keep one hand on the cursor while the other rakes through my hair. As far as I can tell, they don’t look any different than I remember, albeit with a few more wrinkles and graying hair at the temples. My brother, on the other hand, looks nothing at all like I imagined. Then again I’ve avoided looking at him too closely because it stirs up a swirling vortex of emotions I don’t want to face.

Why the hell are you doing this to yourself? Turn off your laptop and go do something else. You are not Evie, and as nice as that was to watch, it’s not your reality. Plus, Isaiah is monitoring you and limiting access to everything, so it’s not like you can message them, remember?

My finger hovers over the cursor, every instinct in me screaming to get up and walk away. But I still sit there, combing through every inch of their pages and allowing myself these indulgences in the hopes that it will calm the fire burning inside of me. Instead, each picture makes me angrier until I’ve leaned all the way back. I dig my nails into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

Fucking idiot.

I don’t know what I am hoping to find, but it certainly isn’t a picture-perfect family with no room for me whatsoever. Years ago, when I returned and stood on the other side of that picket fence, I knew that I no longer belonged there. I’d forced myself to walk away. Being forced to relive it all over again isn’t at all what I expected.

It is worse.

“Hey.”

I glance up and find Cory lingering in the doorway, his eyebrows drawn together. “What’s up?”

“You good?” Cory shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and steps into the room. “You’ve been a little out of it the past week.”

I shrug. “Got a lot on my mind.”

“It’s Evie, isn’t it?”

I frown. “What makes you think that?”

Cory stops in front of the desk and leans over it. “I’ve seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

I blow out a breath and stand up. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Cory raises an eyebrow. “It’s obvious. You have to stay away from her until this is all over. When we all get out of here, you can do whatever you want.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

Cory takes his hands out of his pockets and runs a hand over his face. “No, I guess not in this case, but you have to try.”

“I have been trying.” I step out from behind the desk and stop in front of him. “But the harder I try to stay away from her, the more I find myself drawn to her.”

“Pussy whipped.”

I scowl. “Fuck you.”

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