Blind Devotion Page 12

  He looked as if he was going to argue but snapped his lips shut at the last minute. “Fine,” he conceded, looking none too happy. “But if he doesn’t get the message this time, I will take over. Understand?”

  “Okay. Agreed.” I watched him physically relax, his shoulders releasing tension while his expression softened. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to get done and you standing here looking all sorts of sexy isn’t doing me any good.”

  “Then maybe I should stay.”

  “Maybe you should go.” We were still standing close staring at each other, neither of us wanting to part ways until someone else joined our little party and finally forced us apart.

  “Is he the reason you tried to break it off last night?” Chris growled, entering my office and shooting daggers at me before turning his glare onto Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “She didn’t try,” Max seethed. “She did break it off with you, but obviously you didn’t get the hint, texting her all sorts of crazy shit.” Max clenched his hands, taking a single step toward Chris, ready to do God only knew what. I had to stop him, stop the situation from escalating out of control.

  “Max,” I warned. “Why don’t you give us a minute?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you give me and my fiancée a minute?” Chris took his own step forward.

  “Ex-fiancée,” I corrected. Chris’s face fell briefly before anger reddened his face.

  “So what? You’re just going to sleep your way through the firm? Is that it? First, Geoffrey, then me and now Max?”

  I gasped, disbelieving what I’d heard. I didn’t have a chance to remind him we hadn’t in fact slept together before Max lunged forward and threw him against the wall, landing a punch to the side of his face. I screamed, the sound involuntary and being ripped from my throat before I could stop it.

  Chris swung back, but Max moved out of the way just in time. My feet propelled me forward, and before I knew it, I was smack dab in the middle, trying my best to separate them. Thankfully, Max moved away from Chris, but his only intention was to keep me safe, ushering me behind him before he started shouting at Chris.

  “If you ever come near her again, you’ll regret it. Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even fucking think about her.” My hand rested on Max’s back, but my touch did nothing to crush his aggression toward the other man.

  “Your father isn’t going to be pleased with this,” Chris threatened, gesturing between Max and me.

  “That’s not your problem now, is it?” Max growled, attempting to move back toward Chris, but I grabbed his arm to stop him.

  “Chris, you need to leave.” He didn’t move. Hell, he wasn’t even looking at me, his anger directed at Max instead. “Now!” I yelled, finally making him look in my direction.

  “Good luck,” Chris scoffed, and I had no idea who he was talking to before he stormed out of my office.

  Max quickly shut the door behind Chris, locking it to ensure we had our privacy. Slumping down into my chair, I released a heavy breath before cradling my head in my hands. Before long, my body started to shake while tears traced their way down my cheeks. My emotions were all over the place, and I barely knew how to control them, let alone contain them.

  A firm but gentle hand lightly squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t be upset,” Max tried to soothe. “It’s over now. He won’t bother you anymore. I promise.”

  Without picking my head up, I responded, “I’m not worried about Chris.”

  “Your father then?”

  “Partly.”

  “I’m not following.” Max slowly pushed me until I was resting against the back of my chair, my face in full view, the tears drying up the more time I had to compose myself.

  “I know you heard what Chris said and I want to clear something up.”

  “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word. I wanted him to tell me I didn’t have to say anything I didn’t want to, allow me more time to dodge the proverbial bullet, but he uttered no such words, instead patiently waiting for me to address the topic.

  “What I told you was true. I’ve never slept with Chris, even though he just insinuated the opposite.” I tried to find the right words to continue. Talking about a man I’d dated, someone I’d foolishly trusted, was certainly awkward, but I wanted to confide in Max. Besides, the man’s name had been brought up a few times in his presence, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he showered me with questions.

  “I believe you,” he replied, moving my things from the other chair and taking a seat, focused fully on me and what I had to say. “Tell me about Geoffrey.” I knew the man didn’t miss a beat.

  Inhaling deeply, I started telling him about my past. “Geoffrey Paulson used to be a partner. I’d known him for a few years and we’d always gotten along, so when I started working here, I finally accepted his invitation to dinner. He was charming.” I averted my eyes for a brief moment, embarrassed I ever let that bastard trick me. I should’ve been more guarded, should’ve been able to see him for who he truly was but in reality, I’d been sheltered for most of my life, the skills necessary to spot someone like him never having been developed.

  I witnessed the tension in Max increase with each word I spoke, but I had to forge ahead. After today, I never wanted to mention Geoffrey’s name again.

  “Why do I get the feeling things ended badly?” He sat forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, seemingly bracing himself for whatever else was going to fly free from my lips.

  I nodded. “We dated for about six months when things started to change. At first, the indication anything was amiss was subtle. He’d cancel our plans, giving me no reason whatsoever other than he had stuff to do. Then other times he’d show up at my house out of the blue. No warning whatsoever, sometimes late in the evening when I’d already gone to bed. On a few of those occasions, he’d been drunk, never remembering his visit the next day. He acted like I was the crazy one when I’d mention it.

  “Eventually, the longer time went on, the more distant he became, his temperament switching in the blink of an eye anytime I mentioned the change in him. He’d rant and rave, telling me I was suffocating him and storm out the door only to come back an hour later and apologize. Having to deal with his mood swings eventually became too much, so one night I told him I thought we needed a break. He had other ideas.”

  “Like Chris?” Max sat up straight, the look of fury on his face barely controlled.

  “Chris is a cake walk compared to Geoffrey.” And it was true. Chris was a good guy, even though his behavior earlier wasn’t proof of it.

  Bringing the story back around, Max asked, “What did he do?” His face had gone blank, and I could only imagine what was running through his head.

  “The next night I came home to Geoffrey waiting for me in my home. I’d forgotten to take back his key, but since I hadn’t heard a peep from him all day, him being in my house took me by surprise. He started apologizing for acting so irrationally and begged me to give him another chance. He’d been drinking but didn’t appear volatile, until I refused. He became really angry, a side of him I’d unfortunately seen too many times, and demanded I take him back. When I continued to tell him no . . . he attacked me.” I wanted to stop there, but I pushed forward, needing to rid myself of every sordid detail.

  “What did he do?” Max’s hands were clenched.

  “I’m fine.” I needed for him to know I’d gotten through the ordeal and had come out the other side intact.

  “What did he do?” he repeated, his tension increasing with every second he waited in silence.

  “He fractured two of my ribs and broke my thumb.” I absently massaged my left hand. “I don’t think he intended on hurting me the way he did, but everything happened so fast. . . .” Pissed at myself for sounding like I was defending him, I drifted off for a moment before continuing. I hated reliving the ordeal, but my story was coming to an end, and my solace was I would never again have to talk about him
or what happened. I knew things could’ve been much worse, and that was what I focused on when my own anger started to bubble up inside me.

  “After he started screaming at me, I told him to leave, and he refused. When I attempted to run up the stairs, I only got halfway before he grabbed my hand, catching and twisting my thumb so hard it broke. Then when I started screaming at the top of my lungs, he shoved me. I hit my head on the way down the steps and must’ve passed out because when I came to, he was gone.”

  “Did you report him? Where is he now? What did your father do?” So many questions flew out of him I didn’t know which one to answer first. By the time he stopped talking, he was standing, pacing in an effort to quell his anger.

  “As soon as I was conscious, I called 911. I was taken to the hospital, which was where I found out I had a slight concussion, two fractured ribs, and a broken thumb. And because I needed to have someone watch over me, waking me up every so often because I was concussed, the police called my father.”

  Max stopped pacing and turned toward me. “I know you have a strained relationship with your father, and I won’t even pretend I understand the dynamic between you two, but surely he was outraged at what that bastard did to you.”

  “He was.” It was one of the few times I saw the protective side of my father. “The police found Geoffrey at his home and arrested him. The next day when he walked out of the station, my father confronted him. Needless to say, he fired him on the spot. Geoffrey, in turn, threatened to sue, and even though he had no grounds, my father gave him back his buy-in money. I guess he figured it was the quickest way to get rid of him, even though I’m sure he would’ve been disbarred. My father had done some digging and found out Geoffrey had been gambling quite heavily and owed some unsavory people a lot of money, which was probably why he took the money and left. I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “Last year.”

  Alina

  I MANAGED TO convince Max to give me some time to prepare a game plan for when my father eventually confronted me about ending the engagement to Chris. After the day I’d had, mental energy was certainly in short supply, and there was no way I would be able to wrap my head around what to say to my father if I also had to contend with Max, on top of all my feelings toward him and our current situation.

  Warm water surrounded me, the smell of lavender doing wonders at relaxing every part of me, mentally and physically. But it was short-lived because as I felt myself about to doze off, not a smart move I knew, my doorbell rang and was followed by a succession of knocks. The small clock resting on the counter indicated it was ten in the evening, rather late for someone to show up unannounced. Reaching over the tub, I snatched my phone and checked the volume. Maybe I’d missed a call, but there was nothing. I waited twenty seconds to see if whoever it was had left but sure enough, the doorbell rang once more, and again there was more knocking that followed.

  “This better be important,” I mumbled to myself, toweling off quickly before throwing on my comfy fleece robe. I didn’t look particularly sexy in it, but I wasn’t about to answer the door in anything else. Slipping my cell into the pocket, I exited the bathroom and proceeded down the hallway.

  More knocking.

  “I’m coming!” I shouted, bounding down the steps toward the front door, the relentless pounding irritating me beyond measure. As I approached, I saw Chris standing out on the stoop, running his hands through his hair while waiting for me to answer the door. To say I was surprised was an understatement, especially after the scene at my office earlier that day.

  Before I turned the handle, second guessing my decision to open the damn door a few times within the span of five seconds, our eyes connected through the glass pane on the sides of the heavy wood. His were full of apology.

  “Can I come in for a moment?” I stared at him, unmoving while determining what action to take. What could he possibly have to say to me in person that he couldn’t over the phone? Or even in text? “Please. I promise I won’t be long at all.” I figured I owed him at least a few moments, given I’d broken things off only for him to find out about Max and me the following day.

  I nodded, unlocked the door and opened it.

  Chris stepped over the threshold and walked past me into the sitting room, the silence he carried behind him almost deafening. When he finally turned to face me, I noticed something was amiss. He looked regretful, almost guilty, but of what I had no idea.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, cinching the robe’s belt a little tighter. Suddenly, I’d wished I was fully dressed.

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head before taking a seat on the couch, a position which meant he intended to stay longer than a few moments.

  “You should be,” I countered. “I realize I may have hurt you and I didn’t mean for you to find out about Max that way, but what you said was spiteful, Chris. And totally out of line.” I continued to stand because I didn’t want to give him the impression I was completely comfortable with his visit.

  He ran his hands down the length of his thighs a few times before picking his head up to meet my stare. “How long have you been messing around with him?”

  “I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

  “It just did, right? Is that what you’re going to say?” He took a breath before standing, his steps faltering as he drew near. “Did you sleep with him, Alina?” Before I could answer, he spoke again. “Not once did you give yourself to me. Why? What was so wrong with me?” Chris didn’t appear angry. It was an entirely different emotion which emanated from him. Wounded.

  “There is nothing wrong with you. I’m sorry.” There were so many things I could’ve said, should’ve said but nothing else drifted from my lips. I never answered his question about sleeping with Max, mainly because I didn’t want to discuss Max with him, guarding whatever it was between the two of us and keeping my feelings for the man close to my heart.

  “Yeah, me too,” he said despondently. After a brief bout of silence, he opened his mouth once more. “I wanted to warn you about something.”

  My brows drew downward. “About what?”

  “Your father knows,” he blurted. When my eyes widened, the words came barreling out of his mouth so fast I was surprised I understood him. “I was hurt and pissed off at you. Even more so at Colter, so I called your father and told him everything. He’s livid.”

  “Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.” I sighed. As I was about to say something else, something probably berating, my cell rang. The sound startled me at first, but then I welcomed the distraction. Pulling it from my pocket, I turned it over and saw Max’s name flash across the screen. Better his name than my father’s. I had no idea why I didn’t let the call go to voice mail, but my finger swiped the answer key, lifting the device to my ear. “Can I call you back in a bit? It’s not a good time.” No greeting, no idle chitchat, just right to the point.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” As I was about to end the call, Chris spoke up.

  “I’m sorry again, Alina.” His voice carried even though he hadn’t spoken loudly.

  Closing my eyes and preparing for Max to flip out, I released air from my lungs and shook my head.

  “Who is that?” Max’s voice was hard, knowing damn well who it was without asking. “Is that Chris? What is he doing there? Is he threatening you?” Loud puffs of air came through the phone. “Fuck! I’ll be right there.”

  “No, you don’t have to come over. I’m fine. He’s leaving.” I’d walked around the corner and into the hallway to give myself some sort of privacy, even though I knew Chris could hear every word, at least on my end.

  “I’m. Coming. Over.” He hung up before I could respond.

  “Great,” I muttered, walking back into the sitting room to join Chris. Not two seconds later, there was a fierce pounding on my front door, a knock that wouldn’t subside until whoever was outside was
let in. There was no way Max had made it to my place so quickly, unless he’d been sitting outside. Which would in turn pose the obvious question . . . what was he doing waiting outside my residence, and how long had he been there?

  Prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of his stalking ways, I flung open the door only to come face-to-face with my father.

  “What is this I hear you’ve ended your engagement?” he shouted, brushing past me into the foyer. “Are you out of your mind? Do you not realize what a good match you and Chris are?” His face was red, and he was out of breath, no doubt from barreling up my front steps, intent on berating me. “And what is this I hear about you and Max Colter? I told you to stay away from him, Alina. He’s no good.”

  I was all set to attempt some sort of calm conversation with my father, but all of that went out the window when he said what he had about Max. He didn’t even know him, not enough to say such things. Sure, I didn’t know him well either, but I knew enough to sense he was a good man.

  “You don’t know him,” I countered. “You have no right to say that.”

  “No?” he yelled. “I know him a little more than you do.” He reached inside his jacket when Chris appeared, slowly walking toward us with hesitancy in his step.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he passed me, curtly nodding at my father before disappearing out the front door.

  “Did you patch things up with Chris? Is that why he was here?” There was hope in my father’s voice, but it disappeared when I gave him my answer. One he obviously didn’t like.

  “No. He only came by to apologize.”

  “What has he got to be sorry for? You’re the one who cheated.” He started pacing, running his hands through his graying hair in frustration. While I wanted to shout at him to leave, I stopped myself. I sensed there was something off about my father. Physically. His face was getting redder by the moment, and he seemed to be having a hard time catching his breath.

  Forgetting all about his accusation, a partly false one at that, I approached him. “Dad, are you all right?” I reached for his arm, but he shrugged away from me.