Page 21 of Was I Ever Here
I’m about to answer, the words almost out of my mouth when I realize the absurdity of the situation. I scoff out a laugh.
“What amIdoing? What areyoudoing here? This is employee only.” I point to the door and glare at him, hoping he doesn’t notice the small tremble in my voice.
I’m also painfully aware that I’m far less intimidating than I’d like to be, standing there in a yellow cotton bra and wet jean shorts. But I refuse to break eye contact, even if my skin itches with the desire to cover up.
His silver rings catch the light as he drags his hand through the scruff of his day old beard, looking at me almost pensively. He unnerves me and he knows it. I swallow loudly, my arm still stretched out, signaling him to get out. But he doesn’t move an inch.
“Employees only, yeah?” he says smoothly, a barely there grin sliding across his lips. “Well.” He rakes his eyes across the length of my body as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans on the wall near the door, one foot crossing over the other. His posture is casual but predatory. “Lucky for me, I now own this bar.”
His words slam into me as soon as they leave his lips, and I’m unable to form a single coherent thought. I stare at him in shock. Did I just hear him correctly?
“I think that gives me access to this room, don’t you think?” He winks—fucking winksat me. “And if I ever catch you likethis,” he hisses with a flick of a wrist. “Where anyone can just walk in and see you, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”
His upper lip curls, seemingly appalled.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to and I believe you have a shift to punch in for.Chop, chop.” he says, clapping his hands condescendingly. He pushes off the wall and turns on his heels, walking out of the staff room and taking all of the oxygen in the room with him.
I try to suck in a breath but fail. The signs of an anxiety attack clawing at my throat and chest. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I stand there—half-naked—for several minutes in shock until I force myself not to unravel. Finally, I pull a dry shirt over my head, my head still spinning.
Byzantine is now the owner of Sammies?
Chapter 14
Byzantine
Thedoorslamsbehindme as I tramp inside the small dingy office that used to belong to Gary. The desk sits close to the back, two couches lining the opposite walls in front of it. The place is crammed with old files and invoices and smells like grease.
I dive towards the bottom drawer where I know I’ll find a bottle of whiskey. Taking it out, I ignore the small tremor in my hand and twist the cap off, lifting the bottle to my lips.
I take two—okay, maybe three or four—large gulps and wince as the cheap alcohol burns down my throat and lights my stomach on fire. I slump down behind the desk and try to catch my breath.
Fuck.Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. I needed to be close to Sunny and buying this run down bar seemed more logical than stalking her forever. Connor rolled his eyes when I told him of my plan. He knows this is more than just me keeping tabs on Sunny—a kindling obsession, he must think. But still he let me have it, we’re always looking for nondescript businesses to launder our money through, so he conceded.
First, Gary had to turn up dead. You can’t buy property from a missing person. The red-tape should have taken much longer, luckily Bastian’s connections reach the highest places in Noxport. We had the deed turned over to us in mere days.
Funny how that works.
But now, while trying to regain my senses like a fucking schoolboy with a crush, things don’t feel so cut and dry. It feels more like being tied up, lying across the tracks while I wait for the train to run me over. I can feel the rumble of disaster in the distance.
How did I ever think this was a good idea?
And then—then—I find Sunny half naked in the employee room and nearly fucking lost it.
Years of hiding my facial expressions barely helped as I watched her body flush at the sight of me.
Was it anger? Lust? Both?
Either way, I just wanted to see it happen again. I wanted to watch her skin paint a story her lips refused to tell. My pull to her is unbearable. Undeniable.
How can I remember lifetimes between us and fucking pretend?
Pretend I don’t know her. Pretend I don’t know how it feels to watch her fall apart as she comes underneath me. Maybe there are parts of Sunny I no longer know, but her soul—I know inside and out. No matter what, I willmake her mine again.
This time it will work.Wewill work. There will be no heartbreak, or inexcusable deaths. Or anything of that fucking tragic bullshit.
The door slams open, the handle burrowing itself into the already existent hole in the wall. I flinch but keep my features neutral as Sunny storms her way into the office.
“What do you mean youownthe bar?” she says, glaring at me, her arms crossed against her chest, trying to look as angry as possible. But I can tell she still fears me. Not as if I’ve done much to quell her fears.