My heart pounds so furiously within my ribcage that I wonder if I’m about to have a panic attack. It wouldn’t be the first time. I came here to obtain enough money to buy a phone, and I ended up with enough financial security to last me for the next couple of months.
Now, it’s time for me to pay the devil with information I don’t wish to think about, let alone discuss.
“I was at the children’s shelter off of Montlake Drive that night,” I say. “There was a charity event the following morning, so I was there baking goods in preparation for that.”
The man in front of me has the best poker face. Hayden’s features remain stoic, his expression one of mild interest. If not for the glint in his blue eyes, I’d think we were discussing the weather.
Not one of the darkest times in my life.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I felt sick, and I passed out.”
Hayden’s gaze narrows slightly, creating lines at the corners of his eyes. That minor change is the extent of his reaction. For someone who wants information, he certainly doesn’t show his eagerness.
Or perhaps, the information I have isn’t good enough. The idea of returning his money to him has my mind spinning.
He tilts his head. “Why do you think that happened?”
I drop my gaze to my lap, wiping my sweaty palms over my jeans. “I forgot to eat, and my blood sugar dropped. When I regained consciousness, I called my father.”
“Were you drinking? Did you take something?” he asks. His voice holds a note of curiosity but without any judgment. It gives me the wherewithal to continue.
“No. The only medication I took was something to get rid of a headache. You know, generic and over the counter.”
Technically, that’s true. But that wasn’t the real drug. Or at least, the effects were not that of a simple pain reliever.
They were much worse.
I sneak a glance at Hayden. “Most people think it was an attempt to get my father’s attention, but I swear it wasn’t. Even when Kristen came into our lives, he never made me feel left out. I would’ve liked to have her as a stepmother, and the baby would’ve made us a family.”
He slowly nods. “I’m sorry for your loss, Callie. Not just your father, but for everything that could’ve been.”
“Thank you.”
His unexpected but genuine sympathy causes a small burst of warmth in my chest. Why am I affected by the words of a man I’m actively trying to dislike? My body’s reaction to him would say otherwise; it more than likes him. I throw up mental shields when my mind begins to conjure the image of me touching myself with his name on my lips.
It was the best orgasm of my life.
I swore I’d only do it that one time. My first reason was that I was certain I’d never see Hayden again. Since he discovered how poor I am, I assumed he’d be disgusted and we’d never cross paths again. Maybe at the Sugar Cube, but that wouldn’t surprise me, given how close his office is.
The second reason I promised myself that I’d only fantasize about him was due to the fact that he’s treated me like his little sister. I’m certain he’s not more than ten years older than me, but I have yet to see him look at me with desire like he did when we first met. There are times when I wonder if I made up the entire thing and projected my attraction onto him.
Regardless of my confusion concerning Hayden, I find myself torn between wanting him and giving into the urge to run away. Especially from this conversation.
“Given your physical state,” he says, “I assume your father took you to a hospital?”
I release a breath, which does nothing to calm my racing pulse. My moral compass won’t allow me to lie to Hayden, but I’m ashamed to admit that I’m not above concealing certain details. Lies by omission.
The deadliest kind. They don’t need to be believable.
Just silent.
“I was looked over by a medical professional,” I say.
“I see,” he says. “What hospital was it?”
“Do you really need to know? The details are irrelevant. The exam consisted of nothing except routine care and my discharge the same night.”
His lips thin with displeasure. “I want to know everything about you, Callie. No matter how insignificant you think something is, chances are it’s meaningful to me.”
“Why? This is supposed to be about my father, not me.”
“It’s all connected.”
I frown, unable to conceal my skepticism. This man is digging into every aspect of my life, and I don’t believe all of it will help him understand my father’s case. There’s a hunger in Hayden’s eyes that is deeper, fiercer than what he gives voice to.
Unfortunately, so is my need to keep this information secret.
“If I give you the name of the location, can I leave with the money and your promise to move on from this topic?” I ask.
Hayden watches me, remaining perfectly still. In those seconds, I nearly fracture under his intense stare. My pulse ratchets up, the speed so swift that I place a hand on my breast to keep my heart from escaping my ribcage.
His gaze zips to my chest. And lingers. It sweeps over me like a phantom caress.
Despite the ugliness of the topic, my skin breaks into a flush with his eyes on me. How can I be aroused and on the cusp of a panic attack simultaneously? Hayden not only perplexes me, but he’s confused my body as well.
“I can’t agree to that,” he says. “I need to know everything.”
If it were any other subject, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him. However, revealing this secret won’t just hurt me and force me to relive the horrific event again. It could unlock the things in my mind that I’ve repressed.
I can’t risk it.
“There’s nothing else to discuss,” I say, my words thin and airy, a struggle to get out.
Hayden narrows his gaze, and I flinch. “Tell me about the bruises,” he says. “I’m assuming your father took the picture as evidence, then covered up the details of your attack for political reasons, but that doesn’t tell me what I want to know.” He leans forward, and his gaze narrows. “Who hurt you?”
The idea of Hayden discovering the sordid details of that night has my body taking over. Adrenaline surges, igniting a panic that has me feeling like my chest is in a vise, each breath causing the pressure to increase until I’m panting. I squeeze my eyes shut and take deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating, but it’s no use.
“I can’t do this.”
“I have to know,” Hayden says, his tone more forceful. “Who put their fucking hands on you? I want a name.”
My eyes fly open at the unadulterated anger in his voice. For the first time in this interrogation, Hayden’s showing emotion. And it’s strong. His gaze bores into mine, the blue glittering with malice and his body taut with tension lining every muscle.
I get to my feet despite my shaking legs. Shame heats my skin and pricks my eyes with tears, and I blink furiously to keep them from falling. “Take your money and leave me alone.”
“Who are you trying to protect?” he asks. He stands and plants his hands on the desk, leaning toward me. “Is it your father or yourself?”
My need to escape takes over, and I spin around, bolting for the door. I’m an idiot for thinking I could negotiate with someone like Hayden. His intention to uncover the events in my past is like a disease, and he won’t stop until he’s infected the healthy parts of me.
And worsened the parts that are still sick.
“Calista, wait.”
His voice and the use of my name have me walking faster. I grip the doorknob and wrench my arm back, only to jump at the loud noise reverberating in my ears. Hayden’s palms slam against the door, his hands flat on either side of my head. I freeze, my entire body stiffening with fear. And awareness.
The scent of him fills my nose.
The warmth of him seeps into my skin.
The feel of him pressed against my back has me longing for more.
This man is dangerous. For so many reasons.
I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the wood. The world falls away until it’s only me and Hayden. My panic and his presence.
My breaths are loud in my ears, and my lungs work hard to keep the air flowing despite my inability to pull in much oxygen. At the feel of Hayden gripping my shoulders, I finally suck in a much-needed breath. It clears the haze clouding my vision, and I blink up at the man after he spins me to face him. His lips are moving, but his words fail to register in my mind. I stand there as his voice drifts over me like a melody, a baritone sound fighting the darkness that’s ready to swallow me whole.
Hayden wraps one arm around my back and bends his legs in order to hook his other arm underneath my knees. From one second to the next, I’m in his arms. I stare up at him as he walks across the room to his desk and settles us in the chair with me on his lap. This proximity makes my fight to breathe that much harder.
He cups my cheek, placing his thumb under my jaw to hold up my head. “Look at me, Callie.”
I flick my gaze to his. The blue is like shards of ice, chilled with his worry for me.
“That’s it. Concentrate on me,” he says. “You are safe. Nothing will hurt you.”
His voice carries a confidence that rings true within me. It battles my need to hide from him. To conceal the filthy and damaged parts of me.
“I’ve got you, Callie. You’re safe with me. I’ll never let anything hurt you. Anyone who tries will suffer. Now, breathe in and out slowly through your mouth.”
When he runs his thumb over the seam of my lips, I inhale. The breath sweeps past his finger and into my lungs. Into my soul.
Time holds no meaning as Hayden reassures me again and again, guiding my breathing with words and gentle touches. Our surroundings slowly take shape and cement within my psyche. But his office is nothing more than a fleeting thought compared to the man holding me to his chest.
He is the only thing in my world right now.
Hayden’s heartbeats pound furiously against my ear, a stark contrast to the calm tone he uses to speak to me. I swallow to alleviate my dry throat and stare up at him, my vision clearer than a moment ago. His dark beauty stares back at me like Lucifer before he fell from grace.
“You’re safe,” Hayden says, sweeping his thumb over my cheek. “I’ve got you.”
I lift my arm to brush his jaw with my fingertips, ignoring their trembling. Is it with trepidation… or from the pleasure of touching him? “You don’t need to worry about me, Hayden. I’m fine.”
I force a smile. It wobbles on my face when he frowns at me, but I keep it there while continuing to caress him. My need to soothe him is almost as strong as my need to touch him. I bite the inside of my cheek to repress a sigh as I trail my fingers along the curve of his cheek, the length of his jaw, and the arch of his brows. One, then the other.
Hayden turns to ice, hard and unmoving against me. Yet he doesn’t stop me from exploring him. I bring my index finger to his chin, following the minor cleft there, then drag my fingertip along his nose and his bottom lip. It’s just as soft as I thought. Maybe even more so.
With regret, I let my hand fall away.
Only for Hayden to snatch it in his and bring it to his mouth.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing my skin. “I need more.”
