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My irritation grew as Vanessa took her dishes to the sink and then headed back to her room. I wasn’t truly mad at her; I just didn’t want to think about what she’d said. I didn’t want to confront the reality that I was doing something I’d promised myself I’d never do.
I was seeing myself through the lens of how people like those cops viewed me. A whore. Someone beneath others. Not worthy of time or attention.
“Dammit, Vanessa,” I muttered as I pushed back from the table.
I needed to escape.
Instead of doing chores around the apartment like I usually would until it was time to head to the club, I got dressed and went straight in. I told myself it was to get a jump on some work because, with Christmas less than a month away, it was wise to work ahead. I just hoped that if I repeated that enough times, I’d start to believe it.
Except, thirty minutes later, when I told Laila why I’d come in early, I knew it was a lie. And when she followed me to my office, I realized she didn’t believe me either. So, I gave her the truth.
Sort of.
“My roommate and I are having a bit of a disagreement,” I said as I sat down behind my desk. “I thought it’d be a good idea to come here and let things cool down.”
“Anything I can help with?” Laila asked, concern lacing her voice.
I shook my head. “It’ll blow over.”
I fully expected Laila to either leave or start talking about work, but she lingered in the doorway, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure she should.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” I forced my voice to stay polite. No need to snap at her because I was having a bad day.
“Look, feel free to tell me to butt out and mind my own business,” she began, “but I can’t help noticing that things seem to have changed between you and Fury Gracen.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“He seems to do an awful lot of sitting and waiting for you or watching you, and you’ve been ignoring him.”
Irritation surged within me. First Vanessa, now Laila? While I respected and liked Laila, I felt like she was crossing some kind of line. I was getting my work done, and that’s all she should’ve cared about.
I swallowed all that down. The thing I liked about the club—the way we all looked out for each other—was exactly what she was doing. I couldn’t let them have my back in one instance and then get pissed when they tried to get involved in another.
“I know Gavin and Fury are friends, but I don’t really know him, so I’m going to ask you if he’s done something. If he has, I’ll tell Gavin we need to bar Fury from the club, no matter their friendship.”
“No,” I said quietly. “He didn’t do anything. I’m fine. I just want to focus on my work.”
Laila stood there for a few more moments before nodding. “All right. But if you need anything, even just a listening ear, you let me know, okay?”
I agreed, even though I never planned on taking her up on her offer. But I appreciated the sentiment.
Yet, as the day dragged on, the restlessness I felt overwhelmed any positive emotions I’d experienced that day. I hated this. My mind felt scattered, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I kept scanning the crowd for Fury or glancing at my phone, wondering if he’d try to reach out again. While I should’ve felt relieved when I reached the end of the night without seeing or hearing from him, I didn’t. I was left only with annoyance over how the day had unfolded.
As I made my way down the sidewalk toward the subway, I took a couple of deep breaths, using the chilly November air to clear my head. That’s when I realized that I’d been hearing something behind me for the last two blocks. I didn’t want to glance back and give anything away, but I quickened my pace, checking my wrist as if I had a watch.
Ahead of me, people were moving toward the entrance of the subway. If I could reach the stairs, there’d be enough people around to look back and see if my imagination was running wild.
I never got that far. When I was still a block away from my goal, pain exploded across the back of my head, and I felt a dim sensation of falling before everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Fury
The last time I looked at my phone, it was two forty-seven in the morning, but I had no idea how much time had actually passed as I drifted in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. I’d always despised that feeling more than the inability to sleep at all because it felt like I was neither productive nor truly resting. I was just kind of existing—neither asleep enough to dream nor awake enough to think.
That had been my reality since I turned in after the late-night news finished.
As the piercing shriek of my phone shattered the tranquility, I jolted upright. Despite the ungodly hour, relief washed over me. Finally, a reason to be awake. The darkness beyond my tightly drawn curtains hinted at pre-dawn, but I snatched up the phone anyway, squinting at the unfamiliar number.
