Page 34 of Cruel Titan

“She asked me for a job here, so maybe you should get her under control.”

My hands slap against the desk. “Control. That’s all you want from everyone and everything around you. What really pisses you off is she can’t be controlled … just like her father.”

“Are you really ready to go down that road? Because if you do, there’s no turning back.” His furious tone is a deeper cause for concern than the actual words of his warning.

“Where is she?”

“Third floor with Marsha.”

Abruptly turning, I head out the office as he speaks, the smile in his voice evident. “She has more control over you than I ever had.”

Halting in place, I turn to look at him over my shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, I rotate and pace back to his desk, bending forward to glare at him. The vile monster that taught me evil was real. “Maybe so,” I confirm. “But she isn’t some weak, pathetic little man who locked a kid in a dark closet until it was time to beat him senseless again for not bowing down to every whim and fucking command.”

“I made you a stronger man.” He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, not wanting to think of all the nightmares I’ve lived at his hand.

I step back, keeping my eyes on him, “No, you made me weak because you wanted to feel like a stronger man. She makes me weak because I want to be a better man but never will be.”

“You know this doesn’t end well for either of us.”

“I don’t give a fuck as long as it ends well for her.”

Turning my back on him, I walk out of his office, and head in her direction, knowing she won’t listen to me, especially after the way I’d hurt her again.

Stepping off the elevator, I spot Marsha sitting in her office. “Where’s she at?”

“Last office,” she points, not paying me much attention as she resumes her work.

Shoving the door open, I spot Quinn sitting at a desk stacked with papers and envelopes. She startles and reaches to turn off the music coming from her phone. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re leaving. Let’s go.”

Of all the things she could do, she laughs. Full-blown belly laughs before resuming her music and continuing to stuff a paper into an envelope.

Walking over to her, I grasp her arm, pulling her up as she shoves me away. “I’m not leaving. You wanted to play dirty. I’m playing.”

“No. You’re playing dangerous, not dirty.”

“So. What.” She stands, moving in front of me to get in my face, whispering, “Is my car going off a cliff?”

“Stop it.”

“Or maybe something more creative to kill me.” She casually sits back at the desk, recommencing her mundane task. “Either way, I’m a little busy here, so I’m not leaving.”

Every muscle in my body is tense, straining, as I haul my arms across the desk, sending papers flying around the room. She gasps, jumping away from me until her back hits the wall, fear covering her face for the first time since I’ve walked in the room.

Her body is flush upon mine as I move against her, pressing her into the wall. “I can’t decide if I want to strangle you for making me so fucking weak or bend you over the desk and fuck you until you’re the weak one.” The fear on her face morphs into that pissy look she gets when she’s had enough of my shit. “But I won’t fuck you here. There’s a camera watching, and your body is only for me to enjoy, taste, and fuck.”

“Even if there wasn’t a camera, it wouldn’t happen. Or did you plan on paying Connor to take care of that too?”

“We both know I make you feel good, wet and moaning, like no one else ever will.”

“Just because it feels good doesn’t mean it’s not bad for me.” Her bluntness snaps me out of my lust because she is right. I’m no good for her.

“Just because we’re bad for someone doesn’t make us stop wanting … or loving them.”

“I’m not leaving because this is as much your doing as it is mine.” Her eyes rapidly blink as she looks away. “And this isn’t how people treat each other if they actually love each other, so just leave me alone.”

“You’re right.” Pushing off the wall, I do as she asks. And it takes every ounce of my self-command to leave her behind as I walk out the building.