2. Eve
CHAPTER 2
Eve
C ould this building possibly go up any slower? Eve never worked on a project with so many stupid delays, and she’d been in this business for thirty goddamn years.
Well. Sort of. She helped her dad on jobsites every weekend and summer for as long as she could remember, until she grew old enough for him to hire properly. So yeah, maybe five-year-old-Eve’s memories of the particulars were a little on the hazy side.
This job still sucked ass, though.
“Tommy, what on earth are you doing?” she asked, staring down her nose at one of their newest employees.
The gangly nineteen-year-old froze in place, the orbital sander in his hand stilling and falling silent. “Uh, I’m, uh...” He made random sounds for a few more seconds before Eve lost her patience.
“Did someone tell you to do that, Tommy?” she asked, her tone firm but kind.
“Um, yes ma’am. Mr. Talley did, first thing this morning.” He frowned at her. “Is that bad?”
Eve held in a frustrated groan. Everywhere she turned, someone else was doing something either monumentally stupid, or a complete waste of fucking time. And almost without fail, they had been instructed to do so by none other than Frank. At this point, it almost felt like he wanted to fuck up the project.
Didn’t mean the poor kid was to blame. “Go talk to Jake and figure out what he needs done.” At least she could still count on her foreman to do things the right way. “And if Frank tells you to do anything else...” God, she couldn’t believe she had to say this, but she didn’t feel like she had a choice anymore. “Come find me or Jake before you start. I want all assignments going through us, understand?”
The idea of ignoring orders from the big boss clearly didn’t sit well with Tommy. He fidgeted for a few seconds, not quite meeting her eyes anymore. “Yes ma’am, Ms. Hutchinson. Sure thing.”
“Please stop calling me that,” she said with what she hoped was a kind, not frustrated smile. Frank insisted everyone call him Mr. Talley, but she hated that shit. “Eve is just fine.”
And he didn’t even have to see me naked.
The thought popped into her head out of nowhere, and she was glad when Tommy scurried off in search of the foreman. It meant he didn’t see how furiously she blushed. Because now all she could think about was how hot Jonathan was naked.
Not even hot—that was such a basic bitch of a word. Jonathan was the most intensely sexy human being she’d ever seen. And not just his body (though holy shit, what a body), but every single thing about him. How his gaze seemed to burn the surface of her skin. The way he moved, like a predator about to take down his prey. His deep, commanding voice, always so perfectly controlled, a world of emotion lurking just below the surface.
And, of course, the way he completely fucking worshipped that woman out by the pool. Holy fucking fuck. So much power as he yielded a thick leather strap against her bare flesh, never losing one iota of control. He comforted and soothed that beautiful woman, encouraging her through the pain until it melted away into pleasure.
Pain. Ecstasy. Escape.
Salvation.
It was everything she ever dreamed of.
Everything she wanted when she got involved with Frank all those years ago. What he convinced her he could give her .
She even believed him for a while. But somewhere along the line, things started to devolve. By the time their relationship turned into this , she’d been with him so long that she wasn’t even sure how to go about leaving.
Fuck, she really did need to leave. But she’d lose literally everything she had in the process, and not just her home and security. Her father and Frank founded DHFT Construction a year before she was born, and virtually all her memories of her father involved this company. Losing her job would be like losing her dad all over again.
Besides, they had joint banking. She knew damn well Frank wouldn’t let her take anything out of the accounts without a fight. Everything with him was a fight these days.
Jonathan, on the other hand, never allowed his anger to reach the surface. Even last night when she told him about Frank and those stupid fucking tiles.
That had been a mistake. She knew it even as the confession tumbled out of her mouth last night. Frank was going to go fucking ballistic when he found out.
She couldn’t bring herself to regret it, though.
Maybe Jonathan wouldn’t tell Frank where he got the info. Or maybe?—
The thought died away as Frank stormed into the room, fury flashing in his eyes, his lips in a tight line.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She needed to leave before things got out of hand. If she could just slip around back and head into town for a cup (or five) of coffee while he got his temper under control.
Too late. Frank spotted her across the room, and he took three long, way-too-loud breaths as he stared daggers at her. “I need to speak with you. Privately.” Barely contained rage vibrated beneath the words.
Her heart pounded so hard and fast in her chest, it felt like a hammer slamming against her ribs. “I think we should talk after you’ve had a chance to calm down.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say. The expression that flashed across his face scared her so much she took several steps back, until a wall stud halted her progress.
Stalking across the room, Frank grabbed her upper arm in a painful grip. “Don’t you dare embarrass me more than you already have,” he hissed under his breath.
Eve knew exactly what would happen if she followed him outside. And she was fucking done .
“No.” The single syllable seemed to reverberate through the room. “Let go of me.”
Frank’s eyes widened for the space of a heartbeat, before narrowing into tiny slits. “Everyone go outside and take a break,” he said, raising his voice so people in the adjoining rooms would also hear.
“For God’s sake.” Eve rolled her eyes and tried to follow her crew out.
His grip on her arm tightened even more, making her gasp at the pain. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Frank spat down at her as the last of the workers filed through the door.
She looked pointedly down at his fingers wrapped around her arm, then back up into his eyes. “Same question.”
“Don’t get cute with me.” He gave her arm a little shake, making her teeth rattle. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me?”
Eve tried to yank her arm out of his grip, but his long, thick fingers were too strong. “I’m not doing this again,” she said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, without much success. “If you have a problem with me, talk to me about it. Don’t grab me and yell at me and...” She let the sentence trail off. Neither of them acknowledged the rest of it out loud. Never. “This is exactly why I keep trying to get you to go to couples therapy with me.”
“Fuck couples therapy.” His standard response any time she brought it up.
She took a steadying breath, willing herself to stay calm and not give in to panic. “We need to learn how to communicate in a healthier way.” She sounded cold and detached, like an AI voice relaying directions through a GPS app. “A calmer way.”
“Stop.” Danger lurked deep within that one word. “I don’t know how you expect me to be calm when you went behind my fucking back and cost me twenty grand.”
“Twenty grand?” Eve repeated, surprised. As far as she was concerned, he was lucky DHFT wasn’t fired from the project. That would’ve lost him a hell of a lot more than twenty thousand dollars.
Frank shook her again, and she ground her teeth together this time, so hard her jaw hurt. “Because of your big fucking mouth, Hale said he’d sue me if I didn’t cover the difference between the old tile and the new one. And the prick picked the most expensive fucking tile in the box.”
Some part of him had to know his shady actions caused this. Had to understand that when you do dishonest or illegal shit, sometimes it bites you in the ass.
When she looked into his eyes, though, she saw nothing there but raw fury, one hundred percent of it directed at her.
“I understand why you’re angry,” she said, using that Siri voice again. “But I couldn’t stand by and let you screw these people over.”
“So you decided to screw me over instead?” he demanded.
You screwed yourself over. It was right there on the tip of her tongue, but Frank was already a stick of unstable dynamite, fuse burning away. She had to proceed carefully if she wanted any chance of stopping the explosion. “My dad was an honest man. He’d turn over in his grave if he knew I didn’t speak up.”
“Your dad was an idiot.” It felt like a physical blow, right in the stomach. “His stupid fucking honesty cost us a goddamn fortune. Or did you forget he left you nothing but debt? You should be thanking your lucky stars he died.”
“Fuck you.” She tried to dig her fingers beneath his and pry them away from her arm. “We’re done, Frank. Let go of me right the fuck now.”
He scoffed. “Oh, please. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“ We’re done, ” she repeated. “I don’t ever want to see you again. Now let go of me before I scream.”
Something new entered his eyes then. Shock, quickly replaced by a severe, almost obsessive possessiveness. That scared her even more than the anger did. “You’re never leaving me.” His voice was a low, dangerous growl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Her instincts screamed at her to acquiesce. To just agree with him until this was all over and sneak away the first safe chance she got.
Her instincts could go to hell.
“That’s not up to you, asshole. And I hope they do sue you. I’d rather see my dad’s company fall apart than see it in your hands for another goddamn second.” Leaning down, she bit the fleshy part of his hand just below the thumb.
“ Fuck! ” Frank yelled, yanking his hand away. The instant she straightened, the back of his hand slammed into her face.
Pain exploded across her cheek, behind her eyes, in her whole fucking head. Motherfucking fuck. It felt like her skull was shrinking, squeezing her brain so much it wanted to burst.
“You fucking bitch!” Frank snarled, drawing his hand back for a slap across the other cheek.
Cowering away from him, Eve put her arms up to protect her face. But the blow never came. After a few seconds, she peeked between her forearms, and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw.
Jonathan stood behind Frank with his hand wrapped around the older man’s wrist. He bent Frank’s arm back so far, it looked like only a tiny bit more pressure would snap bone.
A new sound hit her ears, and it took her several seconds to realize it was Jonathan’s low, beautiful voice. Dropping her arms to her sides, she forced herself to focus on the sound until it changed into words—her name, repeated again and again.
“Yes?” she said, looking up into the man’s intense brown eyes.
“Do you want me to call the police?” he asked, not even blinking as he watched her.
“I—what?” Her head felt unbearably fuzzy, blocking any coherent thoughts from forming. “The police?”
At that moment, Frank tried to whip around, aiming a wild punch in the vicinity of Jonathan’s face. With a little sigh, almost like the attempt bored him, Jonathan easily blocked the punch, kicking Frank’s legs out from under him. Frank hit the ground with a loud thud that made her wince.
“Yes, the police,” Jonathan said, kneeling down and pinning Frank’s hands behind his back. “He just assaulted you. Do you want to press charges?”
“I—I’m not—” Her mind raced. “I don’t know. ”
Frank tried to buck Jonathan off his back, then gave up and half-shouted, “No, she doesn’t want you to call the fucking police. Now get the fuck off me.”
“Shut up,” Jonathan said, not even glancing down at his captive. With his free hand, he pulled an honest-to-God handkerchief from his pocket, holding it out to her. “Here. You have blood on your cheek.”
Blood? A hand flew up to her face before she could stop it, her fingertips gently prodding at the place where the heavy gold ring on Frank’s finger had collided with her cheek. She gasped at the sudden burst of additional pain and pulled her hand away. Sure enough, her fingertips glistened red.
“Thank you,” she said softly, taking the handkerchief and pressing it gently against her cheekbone.
“You ungrateful little slut!” Frank yelled, trying to twist his neck around to glare at her. “You had nothing after your father died. Every single thing you have is because of me, and this is how you repay me? After everything I?—”
“Enough!” Jonathan’s deeper, more powerful voice easily carried over Frank’s. “Fucking Christ. Be quiet or I’ll gag you.”
Frank made a sound of disgust. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You fucking perv. You get off on hitting women, but you have the fucking nerve to come at me about?—”
Not bothering with a second warning, Jonathan yanked his tie off, balled it up, and shoved it into Frank’s mouth. She watched her ex gag and splutter around the fine silk, clearly trying (and failing) to spit it out.
How had everything in her life gone so utterly and spectacularly wrong?
“Eve, I think you need to sit down.” The words sounded strange, as if she heard them underwater. “Eve?”
She tried to meet his gaze, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Frank’s struggling, prone form.
“ Eve. ” A new sharpness in his voice snapped her out of it.
“Yes, Mr. Hale?”
“Sit down.” It wasn’t a suggestion anymore. “You look like you’re about to pass out. ”
She plopped ungracefully onto the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Good girl.” He pulled his cellphone from his jacket pocket, holding it up for her to see. “I’m going to make one of two phone calls. I’m either calling the police, or I’m calling one of my partners so he can escort this piece of shit off my property. Your choice.”
God, she just wanted this to be over. For Frank to be out of her life once and for all, and to find somewhere quiet to curl up and cry for the foreseeable future.
But when she looked down at him, everything changed. His expression held no regret, no fear. Not even a hint of pleading lurked in his eyes.
Frank Talley looked like he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze as hard as he could.
Revulsion coursed through her body, making her feel physically ill.
It wasn’t the first time he’d hit her.
But it would sure as fuck be the last.
“I want you to call the police,” she said, voice little more than a whisper.
Jonathan’s small smile of approval washed over her, filling her cold, numb body with warmth. Unlocking his phone, he dialed 911 and hit send. Just before he brought the phone up to his ear, he looked her in the eye and once again said, “Good girl.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
Just two simple words.
With the power to change her entire world.