Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
What the fuck?
As the door slams in my face, I fall to the floor writhing in pain. I clutch my balls first, then my stomach, which feels like it’s turning inside out, burning and getting ripped to pieces all at the same time. My vision blurs. My head spins.
As my thoughts get muddled, most slipping away, one remains clear.
I’m going to make sure Violet pays for this.
Chapter Six
Violet
Maybe I shouldn’t have done that to Asher.
Remorse pricks me like a dozen needles as I crouch under the covers of my bed, which is where I’ve been hiding since I kicked Asher out of my apartment.
Kicked out? No. That’s not the right word. Slapped. Shoved. With my knee. To his groin.
Just the thought of how that must have felt for him makes me grimace as I lie on my back.
I am such a horrible, horrible person.
I didn’t mean to do it, I swear. I just… panicked when I realized I was doing the one thing I shouldn’t be doing. My adrenaline kicked in. Fight or flight. I tried to flee but Asher wouldn’t let me so I fought back. I slapped him. And then buried my knee in his groin.
I grip my hair. What have I done?
No matter what my excuse, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just slammed the door in his face after telling him I didn’t want to play neighbors instead of falling under his spell again, getting myself carried away to the past before he broke my heart. I didn’t send him away soon enough. I lowered my guard, so he attacked. I let him in and then remembered I wasn’t supposed to so I tried to throw him over the wall. Which I did. And now, I feel sorry for it.
Not the slapping. He deserved that for not pulling away immediately when I started pushing him back. But the attack on his balls. That was too much.
What if his balls got broken? I mean what if they ruptured? What if he can never ejaculate again?
The more I think about it, the more the guilt gnaws at me. I get an urge to go next door to check on Asher, make sure he’s alright, but no. I have a feeling I’m the last person he wants to see right now. What do I do, then? Call 911 just in case he needs a doctor? What if he’s bleeding to death right now? Then again, if I call 911, the police might find out what I did. I could go to jail.
Fuck.
On second thought, I might not go to jail if I plead self-defense. But if I do that, won’t Asher be in trouble?
I shake my head. No. I’m not going to call 911. And I’m not going to check on him. He’s fine. I’m sure he is. Well, maybe not right now. Right now he must be in a world of pain. But he will be fine after he gets some rest and takes some pain relievers. Right?
Right. Asher is a strong, well-built man. He’ll be fine. I’m sure he’ll show up for work tomorrow. And when he does, I’ll apologize profusely. I’ll even bow my head and all and offer to do his work for him. He’ll have to forgive me, right?
I sigh.
Just to be on the safe side, maybe I’ll make pancakes.
~
I grip the container filled with a week’s worth of pancakes in my hand and take a deep breath before knocking on the door to Asher’s office.
“Come in,” he says.
I step inside. I find Asher behind his desk just like last time, in another crisp suit. Good. He looks fine.
He turns his head to look at me but says nothing. I open my mouth.
“I…”
“You should find somewhere else to stay,” he blurts out as he turns back to his computer screen.
My eyebrows arch. What?
“You’re old enough to find a place of your own, aren’t you? Besides, you’ve been in Chicago for… two weeks already, right? You should know the city by now.”
Not really. I’ve been mostly staying either here at the office or in my apartment. I haven’t had time to go sightseeing.
“Don’t worry. Wherever it is, it should be cheaper than the Mistral. In the meantime, you can stay at a hotel, which the company will pay for. Sounds good?”
Good? He wants me to move out of the apartment that I’ve fallen in love with and stay at a hotel until I find somewhere smaller and farther away from here. How can that be good?
“That’s…”
“You can take the afternoon off to move your things.”
Wow. He really can’t wait to get me out of his building, can he? Plus it seems he’s reached a new level of being unreasonable.
I know I did something wrong. I’m willing to apologize for it, to make up for it. I promise never to do it again. But it’s not like what happened is entirely my fault. And it definitely doesn’t warrant a punishment this severe.