Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Hallway
“I need to use the restroom.” I stood suddenly. “Sit down.” Derek’s voice cracked like an order. “I need to use the restroom.” I said it again. Stronger this time. It was a small act of defiance. It was all I had. Derek exchanged a look with Mr. Henderson. Then he waved one hand dismissively. “Five minutes.” He looked at me. “Then you come back and sign.” His expression sharpened. “Or tomorrow I file for a restraining order.” My blood went cold. “I’ll tell them you’ve been stalking me.” “Threatening me.” Derek smiled. “Who do you think they’ll believe? A successful sales manager?” He let the question hang. “Or a broke waitress with a history of running away?”
I walked out on shaking legs. My cheap heels clicked against the linoleum. The hallway was dim. Half the bulbs had burned out. The building’s old heating system hummed somewhere inside the walls, mixing with the smell of mildew. The entire building felt as if it were rotting from the inside. The restroom was at the end of the hall. I pushed through the door and locked it behind me. The mirror showed a ghost. Hollow cheeks. Dark circles. Hair pulled into a severe ponytail that did nothing to hide how much weight I had lost. At twenty-eight, I looked forty. I turned on the faucet and let cold water run over my wrists. An old trick for slowing a racing heart. It did not work. Nothing worked. I was trapped. Derek knew it. If I refused to sign, he would make good on his threats. He would try to get me fired. Destroy what little reputation I had left. Maybe even— No. I would not let my thoughts go there. Not to the memories I had spent three years trying to bury.
I dried my hands on rough paper towels. I would sign. Walk away with nothing again. At least I would be free. At least— The restroom door rattled violently. “Time’s up, Emma.” Derek’s voice came through the wood. “Get out here.” I gripped the sink. Just a few more seconds. A few more breaths. “I said now.”
May you like
I opened the door. Derek was standing far too close. His breath smelled like whiskey. Of course he had been drinking. That was when he was worst. “I’m done playing games with you.” He grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my skin. I already knew there would be bruises tomorrow. There were always bruises. “You’re signing those papers.” His face was inches from mine. “Then you’re going to disappear from my life. Understand?” He dragged me down the hall. I stumbled in my heels. “Derek, please.” I tried to pull away. “You’re hurting me.” “I’ll show you hurt if you don’t—”
The elevator chimed. Such a small sound. Almost lost beneath Derek’s breathing and my own heartbeat. But both of us froze. The elevator stood at the opposite end of the hallway. The doors slid open with a mechanical whisper. A man stepped out. Even from that distance, in that bad lighting, I could tell he did not belong inside this building. His suit was black. Perfectly tailored. It moved around him like liquid shadow. He looked to be in his early thirties. Dark hair styled with effortless precision. A face made of sharp angles and classical beauty. But his eyes stopped me. Dark. Assessing. Cold as winter frost. Two men flanked him. Both large. Both dressed in dark suits. They looked like walls beside him, yet somehow disappeared into the background. The man in the center was all I could see. His scent reached me as he approached. Expensive cologne. Bergamot. Cedar. Something darker beneath it. Something my body understood as danger before my mind could name it.
