Page 14 of Addicted

“You can’t just leave.” His fingers were digging deeper and deeper into my skin.

“Watch me.” I yanked my arm, but he pulled me back towards him.

“Get off of me,” I screamed, my free hand slapping the shit out of him.

“No!” Curtis barely reacted as he shook me, moving to grab my other arm, and I kicked out, hitting his upper thigh. My fist was balled up, ready to punch him, when I heard the door slam into the wall. Cleo ran in, shoulder first, and threw all of her substantial weight into his chest.

Falling back, his nails scratched deep into my flesh as he hit the floor. I stumbled with him, letting out a pained yelp, as I fought to stay upright.

Taking advantage, Cleo grabbed her keychain and unloaded a can of mace in his face. My eyes and nose stung from the scent of it.

Curtis howled, holding his eyes, and blindly reached around the room.

Cleo pushed me out, slamming the door behind us as he screamed. She started pulling me towards the front door, but I pulled back.

“I need to pack my stuff,” I said, running toward the bedroom.

“Right now?! Bitch, we gotta go.” Cleo ran behind me as I grabbed two suitcases from the top of the closet.

“You saw him. Would you leave him in a room with all the shit you cared about?” I started throwing everything I could into one of the suitcases.

Cleo disappeared for a second and came back with a giant kitchen knife.

“This means diddly squat if the country bumpkin has a gun. And If I get shot defending you while you pack a bunch of bullshit, you are going to owe me tequila for the rest of my life. And a kidney. Maybe a piece of your liver too.”

I didn’t really look at what I was grabbing, I just grabbed what I could reach and zipped it shut. I put everything, hangars and all, into the second suitcase as we heard movement in the other room.

“Hurry up,” Cleo hissed, staring daggers at the closed door.

I zipped the second bag shut and dragged it forward as Cleo pulled the other.

As the office door jerked open, I let out a small squeal. A red and puffy-faced Curtis was splashing a water bottle over his head.

Cleo was holding my jacket and the knife as she stood by my side. We slowly backed up toward the open apartment door.

He glared at me as Cleo pulled me back through the doorway.

“Leave, or I’m calling the cops,”I said, sounding stronger than I felt.

I closed the door and blinked away tears, feeling the blood flowing down to my wrist chilling against my skin.

What the fuck.

CHAPTER 7

DENISE

I spent most of my day in the office with the door closed. Hugh had walked past a few times, but I nodded my head and returned to my work. I needed the distraction. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe without feeling like I was going to fly into a rage or cry. I’d barely slept, I was hungover and exhausted, and as much as I wanted to be anywhere but here, I felt safest here. At work. In a place where everything was familiar, and the days looked the same.

It was eighty degrees in my office with the sun beating on my back, but I kept my blazer on. I’d taken one look at my arm this morning and knew I had to cover it.

Someone knocked and opened the door. Not just any someone, it was Lucian Foxx. I blinked, confused.

Lucian was standing in my doorway. It would probably be more apt to say the manbecamemy doorway.Lucian was six-foot-five, I’d never seen him wear anything that looked dark and brooding. Today, his suit was a light gray that contrasted well against his caramel skin. If that wasn’t enough to get your attention, his sharp eyes were an icy cobalt blue. Blue enough that when he dressed up as a white walker last Halloween, I steered clear of him all night because it freaked me out.

“Do you have a moment?” It wasn’t a real question, but I nodded anyway.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

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