Chapter 16 Allie #2
“Listen, Craig. That was my attempt at turning you down politely, but since it seems you have trouble understanding, let me make it clear. I’m not interested.”
If this were Ashton, his lips would turn up into that smug grin of his, and he would chuckle before spouting some lame comeback.
That’s not what happens.
Craig’s nostrils flare, the vein in his forearm twitching as he takes a threatening step forward, crushing the tiny bit of space he gave me earlier.
“You know how easy it is for me to get pussy? Women practically bend over for me the minute I step into a room.” He puts his mouth to my ear, the invasive move making my skin crawl.
Nothing like when…
Stop, Allie. Fucking focus.
“You should go find those women then.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You think you’re so different, huh?
You think you’re better than them? Smarter because you can string a sentence together?
” He taps the side of my computer as I try not to gag, his words and the stench of alcohol causing bile to rise in my throat.
“Guess what? You’re not. You’re a piece of trash from Rocky Falls, and you need to learn your fucking place. ”
Before I can even register what’s happening, he reaches out and grabs my shoulders, pushing me into the desk. His arm comes around my hip, his fingers gripping the zipper of my skirt. He attempts to tug it but fumbles with it instead, cursing in frustration.
As much as my mind and body are screaming at me to beg him to stop, I won’t do it. I refuse to be a victim.
“Wait, wait, Craig,” I say, taking on as calm a tone as I can muster.
“Let me help you.” As he looks around in confusion, I take the opportunity to slip my hand into my purse that tipped to the side when he pushed me down onto the desk.
I feel the small bottle right away and conceal it in the palm of my hand.
He sways back and forth. “Help me?” he slurs, as he abandons the zipper and reaches out to unbutton my blouse. There’s a banging sound in the distance, but I ignore it, too laser-focused on the only way I have out of this. Craig makes it through three buttons before I rest my hand on his.
“Yeah.” I gently guide his hand away and unfasten the last two buttons of my blouse with my right hand, keeping my left behind my back.
He’s confused again, staring at my lacy bra and licking his lips.
“You were right. I was playing hard to get,” I say in the most disgustingly seductive voice I can manage.
His anger momentarily melts now that he’s getting what he wants, but he won’t let my admission go. Ashton was right. Craig thrives on making people feel insignificant.
They prey on those they deem weaker. They make examples out of them.
“See, was that so hard?” he mocks. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist for this long.
You just needed a little kick in the ass.
” This time, I actually do gag, but Craig doesn’t notice as he reaches out to touch my breasts.
At the same time, I slide the bottle down my hand so my finger can reach the nozzle and whip my arm around, pressing firmly as I aim straight for his eyes.
He screams in pain as the spray hits his irises, his hands flying to cover his eyes as he stumbles backward. I’m on him right away, taking the opportunity to grab his arms and bring my knee up, jamming it straight into his groin before elbowing him in the jaw.
Thank you, kickboxing classes.
“Fuck,” he roars as I let him go, and he falls to the floor.
“You will never lay a finger on me again. Is that understood?” I’m hovering over him, his height not much of a concern now that he’s curled up on the floor in the fetal position, his face twisted in agony.
“You fucking bitch. I’m gonna put your ass in jail so fas—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because there’s another loud bang and what sounds like glass breaking.
My eyes fly to the front, just in time to see a hand snake through a jagged hole and unlock the door, which opens a second later.
I blink once, and Ashton is in front of me, his concerned eyes scanning me for any signs of injury.
“Are you okay?” he grits out. “I’m so sorry. It was locked and…I tried to get to you.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. I’m not entirely sure I am, but now is not the time to let my defenses down.
“You won’t be…fuck,” Craig moans as he tries to sit up.
He manages to open his eyes and I recoil at the literal nightmare staring back at me.
The angry red splotches in the whites of his eyes have started to spread to the skin around them, creating scarlet bruises above his lids.
“You won’t be fine when you’re locked the fuck up.
Bet you won’t even be able to make bail,” he spits.
Ashton slowly turns his attention from me to the sorry sack of shit still writhing on the floor. “What did you just say?”
His tone is calm, but there’s a slight edge to it.
“She fucking attacked me. Didn’t you see?”
Emory once told me about a time when Luke and Ashton almost got into a fistfight because of a misunderstanding.
In other words, Luke was being his usual possessive self.
At the time, I cackled, unable to even imagine Ashton in a fight, let alone with Luke Collins, who was essentially a backup bouncer at a rowdy New York bar for years.
But Emory said Ashton held his own. When Luke threatened him, his eyes went all dark and he had this tone she had never heard before.
Luke backed down immediately. I’ve never seen Ashton respond in that way to anything.
Until now.
Something stirs in my chest as he walks slowly over to where Craig is still lying on the floor, his attempts at standing up having been unsuccessful. Ashton crouches down, placing his forearms on his thighs.
“Seems like you’re not really in a position to be making threats right now, buddy.” He speaks in a high-pitched voice as if he’s explaining to a five-year-old why he can’t have any more candy.
“But she—”
“I did see,” Ashton answers his earlier question. “I saw how you tried to assault an employee of mine, and I saw how she defended herself.”
A dumb look passes across Craig’s face. “Why do you even care? Your family is one of the wealthiest in the county. She’s fucking trash.”
Ashton’s jaw clicks, his eyes turning the deepest shade of liquid amber as he laughs softly to himself.
“You’re right. My family is wealthy. And powerful.
So that means…” He snaps his fingers in front of Craig’s face when his bloated gaze lands on me and continues speaking when Craig looks back at him.
“That means it would be really fucking easy for me to ruin your entire career with one phone call.” He turns to me, his expression softening for a moment before looking back at Craig.
“If you contact anyone about tonight, lawyers, police—anyone, I will make that phone call, Craig. You will never own, work in, or even see the inside of another restaurant. Is that what you want?”
Craig looks between me and Ashton. Well, “looks” is generous. More like his eyes turn up, sliding painfully behind his swollen lids. “You’re fucking her,” he announces.
Ashton’s eyes somehow get even darker as he stands up and rakes a hand through his hair.
Ignoring Craig’s accusation, he calmly walks over to a nearby desk and grabs a scarf that’s hanging off the back of someone’s chair.
He starts wrapping it around his other hand, and that’s when I see the blood dripping from his palm.
“That’s none of your business and it doesn’t answer my question,” he says as he returns to Craig.
“No lawyers. No police. Unless Allie decides to press charges, in which case you will stay quiet and accept your punishment. Do we have an understanding? Or would you rather deal directly with her? It didn’t seem like she was completely done with you before I came in. ”
Craig twists in his spot, obvious pain running through his body. “Whatever. Just get me out of here. You’re both fucking insane.”
“I’d love nothing more than for you to get out of my office,” Ashton says as he extends his uninjured hand.
Craig reluctantly takes it, but as Ashton pulls him up, he brings him closer and whispers something in his ear.
I don’t catch what he says, but Craig nods slightly as he limps toward the door.
“Oh, and Craig?” Ashton calls out, stopping the man in his tracks. “If I ever see you near her again, I won’t stop at you. I’ll go after your whole fucking family.”
Craig shakes his head, muttering something about “psycho journalists” as he takes his phone out of his pocket, presumably to call for a ride home…
or to the hospital. Either way, I don’t really care.
What has my attention is the man who just put his reputation on the line to stand up for me.
The man who took my side without a second thought.
The man who was willing to let me finish the job if Craig didn’t comply.
The man who put his hand through fucking glass to get to me.