Chapter 36
Sloane
The corner of his mouth lifted higher, a satisfied grin replacing the smug one. This was precisely what he wanted.
Me.
Alone and vulnerable.
Even worse... Pliable.
He was prepared to force my hand to get what he wanted, and the twisted, deranged look in his eyes was terrifying.
"Come on in.” He stepped out of the threshold, gesturing for me to step inside his office.
I took a breath big enough to calm me, but just small enough that the shakiness of my exhale was easily concealed by the shuffle of my feet as I took slow steps into his office.
Doing everything I could to avoid his touch, I made myself as small as possible, my back sliding against the heavy wooden door. Despite my attempts to pass by untouched, his hand reached out to rip the purse off my shoulder.
Keeping my composure when I was this close to him was hard. The pungent smell of his cologne burned my eyes and stung my throat, bringing back an unwanted slideshow of horrible memories. Even his smell triggered my fight or flight, my heart thrumming wildly inside my chest.
I stood incredibly still as he reached into my bag, fumbling around with loose hairpins, receipts, and wadded-up gum wrappers. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't recognize the pen tucked into the side pocket.
"What are you doing?" I snapped, thankful my voice sounded much stronger than I felt.
Stu rolled his eyes while he sifted through my belongings. "I'm not an idiot, Sloane."
My heart sank, worried that he'd identified the mic as easily as Zoey did.
"I have to make sure you aren't recording anything," he replied matter-of-factly, taking just another second to look around before thrusting the bag back into my chest. "I'm glad you aren't."
It took almost all of my willpower to prevent the look of relief from showing on my face.
He didn't find it.
I stood with my back still pressed to the door, watching him closely as he walked further into his office. His finger traced the wooden top of his desk like he was swiping for dust. I shuddered thinking about the fact that his hands used to touch me.
Stu perched on the edge of his desk, crossing his legs at his ankles. "Take a seat," he nodded towards the chair placed in front of him, and my jaw clenched to keep my face from twisting with disgust.
If I sat where he was directing me, it would put me at eye level with his groin. It's without a doubt what he intended, but I refused. "I won't be staying."
His molars ground together in silent frustration, his hands clenching against his desk before relaxing. It made me sick to my stomach that I was just now seeing these tiny movements for what they were: giant fucking red flags.
How could I not tell before just how hard it was for him to control his anger around me? I'd been in the room for less than sixty seconds, and he was already fighting against the violence raging inside of him.
"Why are you here?"
"You know why I'm here."
His arrogant sneer returned, seemingly satisfied with the giant mess he's created in my life over the past couple of days. "It didn't have to be like this."
I concealed the rage boiling within me, not at all interested in playing his games.
But my hands were tied. "What exactly did you expect, Stu?
I mean, honestly." I softened my voice and relaxed my shoulders, trying to appear genuine.
"Did you expect that I'd come running back to you after locking up my boyfriend? "
His eye twitched at the mention of Rhys, the muscles under his blue button-up shirt tightening as he fought for control over the demons that haunted his mind. "He took you from me."
"We didn't start dating until long after we broke up. You know that."
"That's not–" His teeth clenched together to quiet his voice. "That's not what I mean."
Somehow, I knew exactly what he meant. I knew that with his delusional thinking, he was beginning to believe that the stalking was starting to work. He truly had himself convinced I was just a surprise visit or two away from falling back into his arms before Rhys "showed up.”
The fucker probably thought he was being chivalrous.
"I've sacrificed so much for you, Sloane. And then you throw it in my face by trying to fuck him in some hallway like a common whore?" He spat, his mouth twisting in disgust as his eyes flitted over my body.
I was starting to lose it.
The hard exterior I’d erected was slowly crumbling with each hateful word and clench of his hands. I'd been the victim too many times when it came to Stu, even after I packed my things and left.
His words and insults floated freely through my mind until Rhys proved every single one of them wrong. He spent three months kissing away every last hateful remark from Stu, and I had no intention of letting all that work go to waste.
I was no longer the same woman who backed down from this fight all those months ago. Not when Rhys was at stake.
Before I could collect my thoughts and stop my mouth from running faster than my brain could think, words were pouring out.
"You wanna call me a whore because I finally found someone who worships my body and makes me feel wanted and desired all hours of the day?
Fine! I will not be ashamed of that. Rhys loves me for who I am; all you ever wanted to do was morph me into some spineless, scared little girl.
You wanted me weak and begging for your approval, and you fucking got it before I realized my worth and left your sorry ass.
And once I'm finally happy, you frame him and have him sent to jail?
! Are you kidding me? You couldn't stand the fact that Rhys is ten times the man you will ever be, so you STOLE from the fucking evidence locker and planted it on him?
! You're a goddamn coward, Stu!" I was seething, my chest heaving as I clutched the bag closer to my body.
Pure, apoplectic rage flickered through his eyes as he stood, my heart almost stopping when he closed the distance separating us, shoving me back against the door, and knocking the air from my lungs.
I hadn't even realized that I had taken a couple of steps toward him during my explosion. I gasped for breath, my bag dropping to the floor when Stu crowded in front of me.
"Have you learned nothing?!" Stu roared, his face only inches from mine.
My hands clenched into fists to stop them from trembling, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. His eyes locked onto me, searching for the weakness he spent months drilling into my brain.
But I wouldn't give him anything.
I couldn't.
The door to his office was still open. Sure, his office was a little off the beaten path, but if he didn't get control of his temper, someone would overhear, and there was no way a building full of cops wouldn't investigate this level of screaming from his office.
"What am I supposed to have learned from this, Stu?
! That you're a fucking psychopath? A coward?
Because mission accomplished! I know you're crazy!
Sane people don't stalk their exes and then frame their significant others!
" I was pushing his buttons, I knew that.
And I also knew that I shouldn't be. But I needed him to admit what he did.
Before I could stop it or register his movements, Stu's hand came up, crushing around my throat. My eyes widened as his grip tightened, cutting off my airway. I clawed at his hand, tearing at his skin as I desperately gasped for air.
He lowered his voice, "I hold Rhys’s life in my hands.
And now yours–" He squeezed a little tighter as if to prove his point.
“And you come into my office and insult me?
! You think that planting some drugs in some asshole's suit jacket and under his bed is the worst thing I can do?
" Stu bared his teeth like a rabid dog. "I am capable of so much more. "
The edges of my vision blackened as I fought against his grip for a breath. "Stu–" I choked out, my fingernails digging into his skin.
"You keep pushing me like this, Sloane, and framing him for some drugs will be the least of your concerns. I will end him. Permanently."
"Chief Moore!" A deep voice barked from the hallway, but I was too busy fighting for my life to pay attention to who it was.
Seemingly unaffected by the person who walked up, Stu's grip held tight, his arm digging into my chest as he held me against the door.
"Moore! Take your hands off of her!" The voice yelled out to him again, my eyes fluttering as I struggled to remain conscious, my lungs burning and aching for oxygen.
I tried to speak, to call for help, or beg him to let me go, but nothing came out.
Just as I began to slip under, a firm hand clapped on Stu's shoulder. "Now, Stu! Hands off her neck!"
I used the momentary distraction and the last of my energy to drive a knee into his crotch, his hand immediately falling away from my neck.
He backed away, a string of creative curse words spilling from his mouth as I crumbled to the floor, gasping for air. Without thinking, I grabbed my bag and stood, shoving past Stu and the man who unknowingly came to my rescue, coughing and gasping to catch my breath.
My throat burned, the muscles in my neck ached, and tears clouded my vision, but I kept running.
“Sloane!" Stu growled after me as I disappeared around the corner from his office.
Fuck that, fuck him. I needed to get to IA. I had what I needed; there was no reason for me to ever be in the same room as Stu again.
I had already been running on fumes when we got here, and being strangled to the point of almost losing consciousness was quickly depleting whatever energy I had left.
The dim hallways passed by in a blur as I fled toward the lobby, my ears tuning in to the footsteps quickly gaining on me.
"Sloane!"
I blinked back the tears, coughing several times as I still struggled to catch my breath. Running through this dusty building certainly wasn't helping.
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but this building was full of corrupt cops. I wasn't stopping until I reached Internal Affairs.