16. Lauren
16
Lauren
“Dad, I’m telling you. He started that fire.”
The passenger door closes gently as I slide into the backseat, stuffing my EarPods in. This conversation is about to get heated; I know it. Dad might think I’m being over-the-top, but I won’t back down until he takes me seriously.
“Lauren, sweetie,” he says soothingly, like I’m five years old with a temper tantrum. “The fire department already assessed your office and concluded it was an electrical issue.”
“Impossible. I saw him with my own two eyes. He must’ve splashed something in the office then lit a match.”
“Something?”
“Yes. Gas. Maybe kerosene. I don’t know.”
“Did you smell it?”
I hesitate. “No.”
Dad sighs. “Okay, honey. Let me give you the benefit of the doubt. Let’s say someone did sneak into your office and light the place. How do you know it was Oliver? ”
“There’s no one else with a motive to get rid of me. He’s still mad that I’m running the company, not him.”
“Rosy Cheeks, there was no sign of any foul play. You’re stressed. You should probably take a couple days off. Maybe a week. Oliver can take over until you get back.”
Over my dead body . “I’m not taking any time off. I’m fine.”
“Rosy—”
“I have to go, Dad. Love you.”
My temple throbs from a headache that arrived soon after Oliver laid me on the carpet. “Joe, can we stop at that convenience store? I need something for this pain.”
He nods and swerves into the filter lane.
My cellphone rings as I join the long line to the cashier. “I hope you’re not calling to tell me I’m acting like a spoiled little brat,” I mutter.
“Dad told me what happened,” Gabriel greets me. “Are you okay?”
“Besides someone trying to kill me by setting my office on fire? I’m just a burst of sunshine and rainbows.”
“Well, your sarcasm is all the answer I need,” Gabriel replies with dry humor as a man wearing a baseball cap suddenly cuts in front of me. I glare at his broad back, open-mouthed. The audacity!
I tap at his back impatiently. “Excuse me. You cut the line.”
“What line?” Gabriel asks in my ear.
The man doesn’t even look back at me, and an instant chill run up my spine. My body startles as someone suddenly grabs my arm. Joe. Before I can even open my mouth, he pulls me with him, making his way to the exit. Gabriel is in my ear, still asking me who just cut in front of me, as if he can do anything from three thousand miles away.
“Wait,” I protest, pulling back. “The painkillers—”
“Can wait,” Joe mutters, glancing behind us and picking up speed. It feels like déjà vu when I trip over my legs on our way to the car.
“It can’t wait. I have a headache—”
The rest of my retort gets stuck in my throat as Joe throws the back door open and thunders, “Get in, Lauren!”
There’s something about the urgency in his tone that makes me almost dive onto the backseat. I settle in the middle as Joe runs—I’ve never seen him do more than a brisk walk—around the front of the car and gets in the driver’s seat. He starts the car and goes off even before putting his seatbelt on.
“Lauren, what’s going on?” Gabriel queries, sounding as puzzled as I am.
“I don’t know,” I reply, glancing behind me and seeing nothing amiss. “Joe just dragged me out of the convenience store.”
“Let me talk to him,” Gabriel says.
I shimmy forward and turn Bluetooth on, then hold back of the front passenger seats to keep from being flung around. Joe’s grip is tight on the steering wheel as he darts in and out of traffic.
“Joe, what’s going on?”
“I’m not quite certain, sir. Just erring on the side of caution,” Joe replies grimly.
I glance behind me again, expecting to see another car speeding after us, but Joe is the only one driving like he’s got a death wish. I’m even more puzzled as I turn back around.
“Meaning?” Gabriel pushes.
He doesn’t respond right away, not until the car slows down at a stop light. “That man.” He directs the question to me, his voice carrying that same urgent edge. “Did he look familiar to you?”
“No. I only saw the back of him,” I reply .
“Well, he’s the same guy who ran into you the other day. I find it odd that he showed up to the convenience store when you did.”
“Is that weird, though? I’ve run into people more than once in this city. Haven’t you?”
“No.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Gabriel bellows.
“Joe finds it odd that I ran into the same guy who knocked me over a week ago.”
“Someone knocked you over a week ago?”
“For God’s sake, pipe down,” I reply. “It’s not that serious; it was just a simple accident.”
“I don’t believe it was,” Joe speaks up. “Neither was his presence in that convenience store.”
“Agreed,” Gabriel replies. “Do whatever you think is necessary.”
“Does anyone even care what I think?” I ask, knowing I sound whiny and not caring one bit. I hate that they keep making decisions without checking for my opinion. “I want to feel valued, goddamnit!”
“You are valued, which is why we’re going to such lengths to keep you safe, Lauren.” Gabriel sounds like he’s talking to his toddler Liam, which irritates me even more.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a baby.” I pout, although he can’t see me.
“Well, stop acting like one. Don’t get on Joe’s nerves either. Just do as he says.”
Gabriel stays on the phone as Joe drives around the city, doubling back, checking his rearview mirror for any sign he’s being followed. Half an hour later, he’s satisfied that all is well, so he takes me home.
Gabriel still instructs him to spend the night and keep watch, just in case. I still think they’re overreacting, but hell, I don’t mind Joe being around, especially if it will stop me from doing something stupid, like asking Marcus to come over. A game of Mortal Combat could lead to a whole lot more now that I know he’s attracted to me.
The thing is, I’m in the mood for ‘something stupid’.
I reach for the phone, my thumb running over the keys. All my life, I’ve been a good girl, coloring within the lines, never putting a toe out of line. I’m a twenty-six-year-old who has never had sex. I wasn’t ready, but maybe I am now. Maybe I don’t want to be a good girl anymore. I want to bring Marcus to his knees, weakened by temptation, left with no choice but to take me.
To wreck me.
God… Would it be so wrong to take a bite of the forbidden fruit?
Just a little taste?
Taking a deep breath, I start typing, then think better of it and dial his number instead. After two unsuccessful tries, I throw the phone down on the couch.
The forbidden fruit is already sharing someone else’s bed.