Chapter Four
She didn’t look the worse for wear. If the bastard had laid one hand on her, he vowed to break both his legs then drop him off miles out to sea. Let’s see if the bastard could swim without using his appendages.
A moment later, Quinn stood at her desk, putting her purse away.
She looked calm and not at all how she looked yesterday.
He hoped she hadn’t made up with the asshole.
Now that she was a free agent, the need to have her gripped him.
Bringing her into his world, however, was off the table, so he pushed his personal feelings aside.
Shaking off the proprietorial desire was proving a little more difficult than he thought it would be.
“I take it things went smoothly,” he said, keeping a myriad of inflections out of his voice.
“No, it didn’t,” she corrected. Anger colored her tone and it pleased him. “He threw my stuff out. But he only told me that after ordering me to cook him dinner and give him a blow job.”
Did he just hear that correctly? “He what?”
“Oh, yeah. Mister Small Penis decided to exert his dominance expecting me to fall into line.”
He was going to kill him. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t bother. I did something very petty and yet, it filled me with immense joy. The word ‘prick’ is now etched into his car paint.”
It wasn’t enough, but he reminded himself she didn’t belong to him. He had to let her fight her own battles.
“I hope it was big enough that others could see it.”
“Well, definitely bigger than his dick.”
He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Atta girl.”
Right before lunch, he got a text message that his men had found out where Savage was holed up, so he told Quinn to order herself lunch and that he’d be back later. It was time to end the Voclain’s enforcer.
****
Once she got her lunch, Quinn turned on the phone’s answering service and scrolled through social media as she ate.
She heard a noise downstairs, almost like yesterday, and this time she knew no one was supposed to be there.
The gallery itself was only open Thursday through Monday, and since it was Tuesday, that meant she was alone.
Just as she reached for the phone to call the police, Bryan appeared in the doorway.
And he was pissed.
“You bitch!” he roared.
Quinn surged to her feet, and for the first time since she started dating him, felt true fear. She never thought he’d hurt her but with his fists clenched tightly at his sides and the veins in his neck popping out, there was a good chance he just might.
“Get out,” she ordered.
“You fucking cunt!” The only volume on his voice seemed to be screaming rage. “You fucked up my paint, Quinn! Humiliated me in front of my coworkers. I am going to break you.”
As he charged forward, she had only enough time to pick up her metal stapler and smash it into his skull.
He staggered back enough so she could climb over her desk in an effort to get away, but a hand caught the back of her shirt, and she came to a dead stop.
Panic, fear, desperation, it all blended together and she swung around and slapped him across the face.
“Let go of me!” she yelled.
“You stupid slut!”
“I’ve been called worse things by better men,” she seethed. Anger had quickly taken over. “All the insults, the coercive control, the manipulation, throwing out my stuff! The name fits! You are, undoubtedly, the smallest prick I’ve ever met!”
He pulled his fist back and she had no time to try and duck. It connected to her cheek and the lights went out.
Apparently, she didn’t stay passed out for long because her eyelids fluttered and she found herself staring at the ceiling.
Hot on that heel was the pain that bloomed across her face, and she moaned as tears welled up in her eyes.
They rolled down her temples to disappear into her hair.
Quinn gently probed the area and came away with some blood, and her eye was rapidly swelling.
She’d never been punched before. Pain rolled into agony. How did boxers do this for a living?
Then she remembered who hit her, and terror flooded her system.
She tried to listen to see if Bryan was still in the building, but the ringing in her ears made it difficult to determine if she was safe.
How did he get inside the building? Slowly, she pushed herself up and the room spun dizzily around her.
Bryan wasn’t there, and she held onto her desk as she looked out the window.
His car wasn’t there. Still, she couldn’t chance it.
Grabbing her cell phone, she went into the bathroom and locked the door.
Then she slid down the wall since her shaky legs couldn’t hold her up.
The cool tile felt nice on her hands, and she bet it would feel nice on her hot face, so she laid down.
Vaguely, she wondered if she had a concussion, then that thought disappeared into the ether as she blacked out once more.