My stomach twisted, and I felt nauseous. “I don’t,” I whispered.
“What?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. You know you do. I’m a nice guy. Come on.” He took my wrist, his fingers tight around it. “One day, you’re going to stop playing so hard to get.”
“Let me go,” I hissed.
I tried to wrench myself away, but his fingers were tight around my wrist and growing tighter by the second. I felt enough pain to know his grip would leave a bruise and I twisted away, pulling my hand free. A trick my ex-boyfriend, bless him, had taught me: twist your wrist so that the thumb-side lines up with the clasp of the fingers, making a thinner side with your wrist that can break the grip easier.
I broke free. I ran and made it to the front door.
I didn’t look to see if he’d followed me. I stood in line at the front desk.
“Ready to order?” a sweet voice asked.
“Yes.”
Once I had my orders, I hung around in the restaurant, waiting to see if he’d left. I could see the girl at the front desk watching me. I knew she was about to ask something, but I didn’t want to have to explain myself. She was younger than me, and frankly, I felt stupid. I wasn’t normally afraid of things, so why was I afraid of him?
Because he found me here, and I don’t know how.
I swallowed hard. Seeing him there, right in the middle of my new safe haven, was shocking. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I took a breath and headed outside. A pause on the step, the food boxes in my hands, showed me that he wasn’t on this side of the parking lot. I crossed the street and reached my vehicle.
It was only when I sat down in the driver’s seat that I could let myself start shaking.
I was still shaking when I got back to work.
“Why can’t he just leave me be?”
I felt a tear stream down my cheek. Damn it! I was crying. I sniffed, grabbing a tissue quickly. I wasn’t going to let him make me cry! I blew my nose.
The door opened.
“Amelia?”
I stared. There, in the doorway, was another man I didn’t want to see. Carter.
“What is it?” I whispered. Damn it, my voice had gone all shaky. I coughed to clear it. To my surprise, he didn’t go away. To my even greater surprise, I was pleased he was with me.
“Amelia… you’re shaking. What happened?” he asked. His voice was low and gentle and stroked the edges of my frightened heart. I shut my eyes, not believing how good it felt to have him here.
“Nothing,” I sniffed. He might make me feel safer, but I wasn’t about to confide the less-pleasant parts of my life to my boss. Not just like that. “I’m fine, Carter. Please… it’s fine.”
“Amelia,” he said gently, “it isn’t.” He bent over my desk, putting a hand on the surface. Then, to my surprise, he sat in the chair next to me. His hand stayed where it was. His legs were beside mine, under the desk. It felt good, having them there. I took a deep breath and calmed down.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I, um… saw someone I knew. From my past. A guy.”
“An ex-boyfriend?” he asked. I looked into his gaze, but there was no judgment in his expression. I sniffed. Somehow, that was so off-topic it was funny.
“No,” I sniffed again. Damn nose. “Please, Carter. Let me just be alone for a bit. This isn’t anybody else’s drama.”
“No,” he said. I waited for him to go away. He sat silently for a long moment. When he still hadn’t left yet, I sniffed and smiled.
“No, what?” I asked, blowing my nose on a square of folded-up tissue-paper.
“I want to help, Amelia,” he said gently. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happened… I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
I sniffed. “It’s a guy,” I said, feeling relieved to be able to finally talk about it all. “It’s my mom’s boyfriend, actually… he… he has a thing about me.” I felt my stomach heave with nausea, thinking of the creep.
“I see,” Carter said carefully. I glanced at him, but again I could detect no judgment in his expression, only waiting. He was waiting, I thought, for me to tell him more. I cleared my throat.
“He was outside the restaurant, almost as if he knew I was in the neighborhood. I don’t know how... Mom doesn’t even know where I’m living or working yet.” I sniffed. “And he… well… he confronted me and we exchanged words.”
I felt my wrist. It was throbbing now. When I looked down, I noticed a bruise there. I ran my fingers absently over it, feeling for signs of swelling.
When I looked up, I found myself staring into a mask of rage.
I shivered. The expression on Carter’s face was angry and stern. He was staring at the marks on my wrist. His eyes bulged slightly, and his cheeks paled.
He looks like he wants to kill whoever did that.
I felt my throat tighten with emotions. On the one hand, I felt scared. I had never seen a violent man before, but I knew that I was in the presence of somebody who could, at that moment, commit murder. On the other hand, I knew that Carter normally reined in his temper. I had never seen him look angry, even though I’d sure pushed him now and again, just as he had done to me. So seeing him this mad, for something that had been done to me, was arousing. And moving.
“Did he do that?” he asked softly.
Swallowing hard, I tried to find my voice.
“It’s okay, Carter,” I said gently. “It’s fine.”
“Tell me his name,” he said. His voice sounded like nothing I had ever heard before. The suppressed anger in it was terrifying, but also tender and sexy. I swallowed hard.
“It’s okay,” I said gently. “Please. I don’t want to make an issue out of this.” Suddenly, the tiredness I felt—the aftereffects of shock and trauma—was crippling. Closing my eyes wearily, I shook my head. “Please, Carter. I don’t have the energy right now.”
There was a desperate edge to my voice, and I fought down tears. Carter looked at me. His rage seemed to fade.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “I understand. I’ll leave you be. But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please, let me know.”
I nodded, feeling too weak to move. “I will,” I said softly.
I looked up into his pale eyes. They held mine. I saw genuine concern and empathy in those eyes. I saw a tenderness in him that I had never seen before. At that moment, that was almost more than I could bear.
“Please? Amelia?” he added softly. “You don’t need to be strong all the time.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten as I held back tears. I nodded. “Thanks, Carter,” I whispered.
I waited until he had gone out of the office before I let myself cry.
I tried not to stay quiet, aware that, even though the door was shut, everyone could still probably hear me. I couldn’t help it, though. I was upset on so many levels.
I blew my sniffly nose again, starting to feel calmer. I leaned my elbows on the desk and took a long breath. My heart was racing, and emotions pulled me in so many directions. I immediately realized it was Carter, not the experience with Luke, that had me so out of sorts.