Chapter 7
Audrey Tripp
I vowed to never view him as anything other than my boss, yet here I stand, wrapped in his arms and fighting against the urge to cling to him as my coworkers watch us from the hallway.
Brennan’s suit and tie are nothing like my ex-stepfather’s—and his shoulders are way too broad—but the violence echoing through the room erases the separation between today and that horrible night ten years ago.
My skin crawls even as my soul silently begs for Brennan to tighten his arms around me. The bruises forming on my ass from Mr. William’s fingertips reawaken memories of the deeper, more humiliating pain from my ex-stepfather. My knees threaten to buckle as the smell of blood fills my nostrils.
Visions of my mother sprawled, beaten, and left to bleed out on the floor mingle with the recent sight of my big brother punching Mr. Williams.
Vomit climbs up my throat. I curl my fingers around Brennan’s lapels and lift pleading eyes up past his corded throat and masculine chin.
The world blurs. Faces flash by. Doors shut. A lock clicks.
I dart across the CEO’s office, lunge into the private bathroom, and retch into the toilet until fire scorches my throat, tears trail down my face, and my head hollows.
When I flush and lean back against the wall, broad shoulders block the light, and despite my exhaustion, I flinch.
Brennan squats beside me and offers me a damp paper towel.
“How can I help, baby doll?”
The concern in his low murmur soothes the ache in my chest.
“Take off the suit.”
The words escape my raw throat without my permission. Without hesitation, he shrugs out of his jacket, takes off his tie, unbuttons the collar of his shirt, rolls his sleeves, and tosses the removed articles of clothing onto the edge of the sink.
If he was handsome in the suit, he’s pure perfection with his forearms on display and his shirt stretched across his chest muscles. His cinnamon-and-clove scent clears away the coppery hint of blood, and when he cups my chin, the sharp tang of baby wipes and hand sanitizer wafts from his hand.
“Anything else?” he asks.
I grit my teeth together and swallow before other ridiculous demands sneak past my defenses.
I don’t need him to take off his shirt and let me cuddle against the hard planes of his chest. I shouldn’t want to crawl into his lap and demand he wrap me in his arms. I can’t ask him to comfort me until I forget the feel of Edgar’s hard hands on me, and it’s not right for me to crave him when he abandoned me to his abusive father.
It’s been less than seven hours since I swore to see him as only my boss, and already I’ve given him my first kiss, hugged him in front of the entire office, and imagined crawling into his lap.
A broken half laugh, half sob wrenches from my throat. I bring my knees up to my chest and press the heels of my palms against my eyes.
Warmth replaces the cold floor and wall as Brennan lifts me onto his lap and surrounds me with his body.
By sheer force of will, I swallow my tears and elbow my way out of his arms.
“No, don’t touch me. I just need a few minutes alone,” I say as I use the sink to rise on unsteady legs.
Brennan towers behind me in the mirror. Even without his suit, terror roars through me and sweat drips down my temple.
He ducks out of the bathroom but stops with one hand on the doorframe and the other on the doorknob.
“Five minutes, Audrey. Do not lock this door. Understand?”
I nod. He tilts his head and lifts a demanding brow.
“Fine. I understand,” I snap.
A smile ghosts over his lips as he shuts the door, and I realize he goaded me into anger instead of despair.
I turn on the sink faucet, brace my palms on the counter, and hang my head.
Time blurs. The rushing water buffers me from the nightmares echoing in my mind.
My pinkie brushes against the soft silk of Brennan’s discarded tie. In a fit of madness, I lift it to my face and enjoy the smooth glide over my flesh and his scent wafting from the fabric.
The band around my chest relaxes. Warmth pools low in my belly.
I slam the tie back onto the pile of clothes, splash water onto my face, and dry myself using a paper towel before shutting off the water and grabbing the doorknob.
Today needs to be over. I can’t handle any more upheavals.
In fact, dropping to the bathroom floor and passing out sounds preferable to walking through the gauntlet of trials awaiting me on the other side of the door—I still have office gossip to manage and a police report to file—but life hasn’t killed me yet, so I twist the knob and wobble into the office.
Brennan presses an opened orange juice and a blue folder into my hands.
“We’re not leaving until you drink the entire bottle,” he says.
I drain it in one go and pass him the empty container before opening the folder. I slap it closed again when I realize it’s the papers from the printer.
“Ms. Baker said you left those in the copier room,” Brennan says.
“Oh. Did she say anything else?” I ask.
He quirks a brow. Part of me wants to ask if he looked at the papers, but most of me hopes he hasn’t. I scramble for an excuse so he doesn’t get suspicious.
“I mean, did anything else print after they cleared the jam?”
“She said the queue was clear when she put them in the folder.”
I nod and tighten my fist, fighting the urge to check if all the pages printed.
The last thing I want is to flash a practice GED test at my boss after he punched the daylights out of his predecessor for me. If I can’t keep this job, all my bravado will swirl down the drain like shit. His heroics—and our pact—will be pointless.
My mom will suffer most.
I tuck the folder under my arm and shuffle on rubbery legs to the box full of my things. After sliding the folder into my tote bag, I lift my tablet from the coffee table and sigh at the cracked screen.
“I suppose this’ll come out of my salary?”
“No, it won’t.”
The hairs on my nape rise at the coldness in his voice. I sigh and shake my head.
“It should. Hitting him with it was dumb. I should’ve dropped it before I swung,” I grumble.
“You swung. That’s all that matters.”
His response isn’t what I expect. I set the tablet down and turn to face him.
“You’re not taking the typical CEO stance right now, Mr. Diamond,” I scold.
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his hip on the back of the couch.
“We’re not CEO and employee right now, lil stepsis,” he states.
I scowl. He quirks a brow.
“I’m allowed to take whatever measures I deem necessary when your safety is at stake.”
“My safety wasn’t—”
“You swung, baby doll.”
My breath catches in my throat.
I close my eyes, grind my teeth, and fist my hands at my sides. After inhaling and exhaling through my nose a few times, my emotions calm enough for me to speak, so I open my eyes and meet bottomless blue orbs.
“The only way you could’ve shown up when you did is if you were watching me on the security cameras, and if you came to my rescue from this office, then you must have missed what happened for about thirty seconds before you broke down the door, so you didn’t actually see anything beyond him locking the door, right? ”
The barest hint of a smile tugs at his lips, and a small, quiet part of me glows in delight at his appreciation.
“I didn’t need to see, love.”
“Like hell you didn’t! You’re a businessman. You just bought a million-dollar company, for fuck’s sake. The liabilities and—”
“Audrey, stop. It doesn’t matter what happened. If you felt the need to use violence, then he deserved a beating. I’ll handle the fallout.”
Every ounce of defiance drains from me, leaving a vague hollowness behind. Exhaustion threatens to steal me away from the world, but I smooth my hair and grab an individual packet of snack nuts from my tote bag.
“Fine. If we’re being unprofessional, then I’m ready to leave the office. Please tell me the workday is over. I still have to go to the police station and file a report,” I snarl as I rip open the bag and dump half the contents into my mouth.
“I’ll drive you. Don’t argue. I’m going anyway to file my own charges, so there’s no reason to go separately.”
His amusement carries clearly in his tone. I ignore him as I eye the coffee maker, but more caffeine will only make me jittery.
“Great. Who else is coming with us?” I mumble through my mouthful of food.
“It’s just us,” he says.
I grunt, swallow, and pour the rest of the nuts into my mouth. When I tilt my head forward, I jump in alarm at Brennan’s nearness.
I didn’t hear him move closer, but between his silent footfalls, my crunchy snack, and the fuzziness in my brain, I might miss a bull raging through the room.
He takes my hand, lifts it to his face, and snarls.
“You need ice—”
I slip my hand free and shake my head.
“Don’t say you’re fine, Audrey. Your fingers are swollen,” he says.
“They’re just a little bruised from getting pinched between his jaw and the tablet. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
His scowl deepens. I don’t have the energy to roll my eyes.
“Honestly, they don’t hurt, and the worse they look, the better my case against him, right? Let’s just go. They’ll have ice at the station,” I say.
For a tense moment, he stares at me without moving. When he finally steps away, I blow out my breath and reach for my bags.
He takes them from me and hooks them onto his shoulder before grabbing my uninjured wrist and plopping two pills onto my palm.
“Anti-inflammatory and pain relief. Either take them or—”
I toss them into my mouth and swallow them dry before rushing out of the room.
After endless hours at the police station, I stand outside the automatic glass doors and fill my lungs with tainted city air.
The doors slide open and Mr. Diamond joins me on the sidewalk.
“He’ll be in the hospital tonight and jail for a day or two after that, so you don’t have to worry about running into him any time soon,” he says. “But if you decide going home alone is too much, I have several hotel suites—”
“No, Mr. D—”