Page 18 of Learn For Me
ANARCHY: You’ve been busy this morning. Atticus is impressed but concerned.
SONIC: Atticus can go to hell, and take his friend with him. Leave me alone.
ANARCHY: I know what it’s like to have my heart broken by an insensitive jackass, Olivia. I ended up marrying him, but he hurt me a lot in the beginning. Will you let me come in so we can talk? Just me, I promise.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed on the screen, her suspicions rising quickly. Archie was a talented hacker now; some of Atticus’s best techs had taught her plenty before Olivia’s unplanned departure, so God only knew what she’d learned in the time since.
Switching over to the internal system, she tracked back to where she’d hidden the lock codes, and discovered that someone was very busy working their way toward them. Teeth clenched, she moved them again, throwing in a few diversions and firewalls to keep the intruder on their toes.
SONIC: I’m done. I told him I’m fucking done, so just leave me alone and let me work.
ANARCHY: I’m sorry, Olivia.
What the hell? What was she sorry for?
Olivia spun around in her chair, paranoid they were using blow torches to cut through the steel while she was distracted. Music screamed in her ears as she stared at the door, but there were no signs of a forced entry. Turning back to the computer with her heart slamming against her ribs, she read the next message.
ANARCHY: I didn’t mean to hurt you, Olivia. I only want to help.
Rage boiled in her blood, firing up her usually unflappable temper. Cracking her fingers, she set them on the keyboard and typed furiously.
SONIC:Take your help and shove it, Zeke. I left because my mother was sick, and she needed me to be there, just like I was for you. I didn’t ghost you the way you did to me, without a word for two years. I kept loving you like a fucking idiot, and when mom died, all I wanted was you. So fucking naïve. I get it, you don’t want me. That’s fine, but do me a goddamn favor and leave so I can at least salvage the one thing I have left.
Disabling the IM program a second time was a pettyfuck you, but this time the tears were unstoppable. Her emotions were so fragile, and she hated it. Her mom had raised her to be strong and independent; living with Jared had cemented those ideals deeper than Crystal probably intended, making her shy away from anything to do with men.
Yet her heart did the dirty on her, tumbling carelessly like a kid on a playground when she wasn’t looking.
Huddling into the robe, she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise. Like hell she was giving him the satisfaction of knowing she was breaking all over again. If she had to cry herself dry without a noise, she would.
Ripping the earbuds out, she tossed them on the desk, then lurched from her chair to the couch she’d often napped on after a grueling project. The pain in her chest was killing her, and it wasn’t all Zeke. It was raging mess of the fight to keep her mom alive, and the loss of her; the ruination of her home, the financial and sentimental destruction following on its heels; and then there was him.
The final nail in her coffin.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Olivia cried herself into a stupor. Curled on the couch in a tiny ball, she wept until she was sick, throwing up nothing more than bile and saliva, and the inevitable migraine struck like a hammer blow to her forehead.
Struggling to breathe, her vision blurred, she felt herself slide away into the space that wasn’t quite sleep, wasn’t really consciousness, but where she drifted in a mix of the two. Her brain registered the rapid ping of incoming IMs, but she was unable to flex her fingers, never mind cross the room to deal with the demands of a man she never wanted to see again.
The migraine consumed her, spiking through her brain until the screech of an alarm brought more tears to her swollen eyes.
God, she was a mess.
It was the last thing she thought before she surrendered to escape the pain.
Chapter Three
Zeke
“How long does it take to open a goddamn door?” Zeke demanded.
“As long as it takes to snake through all the neat little roadblocks she’s thrown in my way,” Anarchy replied absently, her gaze focused entirely on the screen of the laptop propped on her knees. “Don’t know what you said to her, Zeke, but you launched her defense mechanism in style.”
“I asked if she wanted to explore a dynamic with me, as per Atticus’s orders, that’s all.” Frustrated, he paced relentlessly outside the office door, scowling as the red emergency light above it continued to gleam.
“That’s never all. Judging by the message she sent, you fucked up good.”
He hissed between his teeth.
“Has she replied yet?” Atticus asked. He leaned against the opposite wall, one boot braced on the paintwork. Looking at him, anyone who didn’t know him would believe he was calm and in control, but worry and anger simmered beneath the façade.