I scream against the back of his hand. He squeezes my jaw so hard my teeth grind together.
“Shut up, bitch. I know what’s going on now. I saw the check, Emma. You can drop the innocent act.”
I stop struggling momentarily. He knows about the money? I didn’t think Mr. Marshall would have told anyone about it. Isn’t it illegal to do stuff like this? Then I realize he’s a very rich man and probably used to giving people large sums of money all the time.
I struggle against him and try to elbow him. He snickers. “I just figured you were cozying up to the old bastard so he’d pay your rent for a while. Or give you some money for tuition. But a million dollars? You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
His arms tighten around me. I can feel his breath, hot on the side of my face. A ripple of disgust rolls through me.
His hand has finally loosened slightly so I wrench my head to the side. “I don’t want it! If you’re the one who sent it than you can take it back.”
“Let me guess, you want more? You probably figured a million isn’t enough for a rich old codger like Mr. Marshall. Well, I protect him from greedy bitches like you every day.”
In his mania, his grip has loosened enough that I can lift my leg a bit. I raise my foot and stomp down on his toe. He stumbles and I run to the other side of the room, so the couch is between us.
“Protect him? You’re stealing from him.” I look back and forth between where he’s standing and the door. My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely breathe.
“You’d better not be thinking of going to the media with this.”
“That’s not why I’m here. Just tell Mr. Marshall that I don’t want any parts of this. I’m tearing the check up.”
He leaps forward over the couch and manages to snag the edge of my coat. I fall backward into the coffee table.
“Get away from me!” I roll away and try to pull out of his grasp. Then he’s on me, holding me down. I can feel the imprint of his arousal. He laughs and grinds it against me. As we struggle, something falls and crashes to the ground. Pieces of crockery land next to me.
Voices sound outside the door in the hallway. Jon looks up and I grab one of the sharp pieces on the floor and swipe out blindly.
“Aah!” He falls to the side clutching his face.
I jump up and race for the door, pushing past the redheaded woman who has just entered.
The bellman in the hallway jumps out of the way as I burst through the doors and run for the elevator that just opened. I know what I must look like with a fresh bruise on my cheek and my blouse hanging open. I bang the buttons rapidly until the doors close.
“Get back here, you crazy bitch. She attacked me. Stop her!”
I can hear Jon’s voice getting smaller and smaller as the elevator descends.
When the elevator car finally reaches the lobby, I run past the small crowd waiting to get on. There are a few shouts and gasps as I shoulder my way through. Outside, I step directly into a cab at the curb.
“Go! Quickly.”
The cabbie pulls out into traffic. I turn back to see Jon racing out of the hotel. He stands on the curb looking in both directions.
Back at Tank’s place, I immediately go to the bathroom and strip. I just want a shower. I step into the stall before the water is fully warmed up. Cold water splashes over me and I duck my head, allowing the stream to saturate my hair. After a few minutes the water warms up and I rub my arms briskly, trying to lose the chill.
“Emma? I heard you come in.”
It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I’m here.”
There’s the rustle of fabric and then the curtain moves to the side and Tank steps in behind me. As soon as he touches me, I turn and plaster myself to him. He pulls back slightly and holds my shoulders. Suddenly, his entire body goes rigid.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
A sob escapes my lips and Tank brushes my wet hair back. He tenderly lifts one of my wrists. Black and blue bruises are already showing up.
“Emma? Did Jon do this to you?”
I nod silently then bury my face in his neck. He holds me and then suddenly squeezes me tightly. “I am going to hurt him. He will pay. I promise you that.”
“I don’t want you fighting.”
“There’s no stopping this, Em. He hurt you. I can’t stand it, can’t live with knowing that he did this to you. Why did you go back there without me?”
My muddled mind finally comprehends that he thinks Jon was at my house.
“You don’t have to talk about this. Come on. You’re shivering.” He cuts the water off and extends his hand to help me out of the shower. He wraps a thick towel around me and gently blots all the water off. Then he scrubs himself quickly with the same towel and wipes it over his head roughly.
“You need to rest.” He picks me up and carries me to his bed.
I curl around him. I push my face right up against his broad chest, reveling in the scent and warmth that is uniquely Tank. Just a few weeks ago, I barely knew him and now he feels like my lifeline. A soft melody reaches my ears and then words. He’s singing to me.
His voice is warm and rich. It wraps around me as tightly as the blanket. It’s not until the tears flood my eyes and drench the pillow that I realize I’m crying. I don’t deserve this beautiful man. Because he has opened his soul to me and I’m lying to him.
It hurts imagining what it'll be like once he knows. He'll hate me. I never knew I could be devastated by something that hasn't even happened yet. But that's what this feels like. Devastation.
“Shut up, bitch. I know what’s going on now. I saw the check, Emma. You can drop the innocent act.”
I stop struggling momentarily. He knows about the money? I didn’t think Mr. Marshall would have told anyone about it. Isn’t it illegal to do stuff like this? Then I realize he’s a very rich man and probably used to giving people large sums of money all the time.
I struggle against him and try to elbow him. He snickers. “I just figured you were cozying up to the old bastard so he’d pay your rent for a while. Or give you some money for tuition. But a million dollars? You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
His arms tighten around me. I can feel his breath, hot on the side of my face. A ripple of disgust rolls through me.
His hand has finally loosened slightly so I wrench my head to the side. “I don’t want it! If you’re the one who sent it than you can take it back.”
“Let me guess, you want more? You probably figured a million isn’t enough for a rich old codger like Mr. Marshall. Well, I protect him from greedy bitches like you every day.”
In his mania, his grip has loosened enough that I can lift my leg a bit. I raise my foot and stomp down on his toe. He stumbles and I run to the other side of the room, so the couch is between us.
“Protect him? You’re stealing from him.” I look back and forth between where he’s standing and the door. My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely breathe.
“You’d better not be thinking of going to the media with this.”
“That’s not why I’m here. Just tell Mr. Marshall that I don’t want any parts of this. I’m tearing the check up.”
He leaps forward over the couch and manages to snag the edge of my coat. I fall backward into the coffee table.
“Get away from me!” I roll away and try to pull out of his grasp. Then he’s on me, holding me down. I can feel the imprint of his arousal. He laughs and grinds it against me. As we struggle, something falls and crashes to the ground. Pieces of crockery land next to me.
Voices sound outside the door in the hallway. Jon looks up and I grab one of the sharp pieces on the floor and swipe out blindly.
“Aah!” He falls to the side clutching his face.
I jump up and race for the door, pushing past the redheaded woman who has just entered.
The bellman in the hallway jumps out of the way as I burst through the doors and run for the elevator that just opened. I know what I must look like with a fresh bruise on my cheek and my blouse hanging open. I bang the buttons rapidly until the doors close.
“Get back here, you crazy bitch. She attacked me. Stop her!”
I can hear Jon’s voice getting smaller and smaller as the elevator descends.
When the elevator car finally reaches the lobby, I run past the small crowd waiting to get on. There are a few shouts and gasps as I shoulder my way through. Outside, I step directly into a cab at the curb.
“Go! Quickly.”
The cabbie pulls out into traffic. I turn back to see Jon racing out of the hotel. He stands on the curb looking in both directions.
Back at Tank’s place, I immediately go to the bathroom and strip. I just want a shower. I step into the stall before the water is fully warmed up. Cold water splashes over me and I duck my head, allowing the stream to saturate my hair. After a few minutes the water warms up and I rub my arms briskly, trying to lose the chill.
“Emma? I heard you come in.”
It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I’m here.”
There’s the rustle of fabric and then the curtain moves to the side and Tank steps in behind me. As soon as he touches me, I turn and plaster myself to him. He pulls back slightly and holds my shoulders. Suddenly, his entire body goes rigid.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
A sob escapes my lips and Tank brushes my wet hair back. He tenderly lifts one of my wrists. Black and blue bruises are already showing up.
“Emma? Did Jon do this to you?”
I nod silently then bury my face in his neck. He holds me and then suddenly squeezes me tightly. “I am going to hurt him. He will pay. I promise you that.”
“I don’t want you fighting.”
“There’s no stopping this, Em. He hurt you. I can’t stand it, can’t live with knowing that he did this to you. Why did you go back there without me?”
My muddled mind finally comprehends that he thinks Jon was at my house.
“You don’t have to talk about this. Come on. You’re shivering.” He cuts the water off and extends his hand to help me out of the shower. He wraps a thick towel around me and gently blots all the water off. Then he scrubs himself quickly with the same towel and wipes it over his head roughly.
“You need to rest.” He picks me up and carries me to his bed.
I curl around him. I push my face right up against his broad chest, reveling in the scent and warmth that is uniquely Tank. Just a few weeks ago, I barely knew him and now he feels like my lifeline. A soft melody reaches my ears and then words. He’s singing to me.
His voice is warm and rich. It wraps around me as tightly as the blanket. It’s not until the tears flood my eyes and drench the pillow that I realize I’m crying. I don’t deserve this beautiful man. Because he has opened his soul to me and I’m lying to him.
It hurts imagining what it'll be like once he knows. He'll hate me. I never knew I could be devastated by something that hasn't even happened yet. But that's what this feels like. Devastation.
