Fists are thrown left and right. There are so many people involved in the scuffle that I can’t tell where it started or who instigated it, but what I do know is that Tommy and the security team are going to struggle to get it under control.
My eyes wander to the buttons that would shut down the whole building, but I’m not sure if this warrants such action. When Everett was explaining it to me, he said it would only be used in extreme circumstances, but what could be more extreme than this?
I look down at my bag on the desk and then at the door. I could go while the chaos was distracting Tommy. I doubt he meant it when he said there would be consequences for leaving without his permission. Not that I think Tommy is really one to joke about anything. But what punishment could he possibly dish out short of killing me? And that seems like an extreme reaction, even for him.
I consider my options for another few seconds, and then I grab my bag and reach for the door. Who the hell does Tommy think he is telling me where I can and can’t go? He’s not my boss. This is the first time our paths have ever crossed in a business setting, and it’s probably the last. I don’t work for this side of Frost Industries, and I don’t intend on starting either.
I open the door slowly and peek out at the empty hallway. I have to go back the way we came in, but that means walking right past the chaos and those asshole security guards. Maybe they’ve been called inside to help with the fight and I won’t have to see them. One should be so lucky.
I worry my lip between my teeth and look back at the room, regret seeping into my chest. I have no reason to feel such an emotion, not when I have no obligation to be here, and yet as I turn the lock and swing the door closed behind me, I feel guilty. Memories of all the nights I snuck out of my parents’ house to go to parties or just to escape wash over me. I don’t allow myself to think about that time in my life, not anymore. It’s in the past and that’s where it’s always going to be, but on the days I let my past life hold space within my new one, it overwhelms me to a point I have to gather all the memories up and shove them back in their box where they belong.
There’s yelling and shouting at the end of the hallway, and despite my best judgment, I walk toward it with my bag tight against me.
This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a terrible fucking idea. I chant the words to myself over and over again, but my steps don’t falter. Not when I reach the end of the hallway and find no less than twenty men throwing punches. Not when I have to walk past the chaos. And not when someone tries to grab me on my way past. Because if I stop, there’s no telling what could happen to me, and while that was always my life in the past, it’s not how it is now and not how I want it to be.
It’s only when a large body slams into me that my steps falter. The force of the hit knocks the air from my lungs, and when I try to continue on, ignoring the searing pain that radiates up my side, another body comes out of nowhere and slams me into the ground.
The impact doesn’t hurt immediately, nor does the huge body that lands on top of me. It comes on slowly at first. A slight pinch in my shoulder turns into radiating pain down my left side and then the right. It’s like a wildfire burning through a forest, and each second steals the breath from my lungs.
I’m paralyzed for long seconds. Even when the two bodies that hit me return to their scuffle, I’m in too much pain to move. But I have to get out of here. It’s not safe for me here.
I drag myself to my feet even as every muscle in my body screams at me and use the back wall to guide me toward the exit. The heels of my feet hurt before, but now each step is more excruciating than the last. But I fight through. I can’t afford to stop for a few reasons. One, staying still makes me a sitting duck in a crowd like this, and I swore I’d never play that role again. Two, the longer I’m in the building, the more likely Tommy is to find me and start barking bullshit orders at me again. And three, I have a fucking date to get to. Now, I don’t date. I have no interest in dating. I don’t even really believe in love. But Justin is a nice guy, and he deserves for me to give him a chance. Or at least that’s what Wynter was telling me this morning after she all but set us up in the lunchroom. Work is going to be so peaceful while she’s on maternity leave.
I finally make it to the door and let out a small sigh of relief. I’m not there yet, but I’m close. Through the door, onto the street, hail a cab. I chance a glance over my shoulder and meet deep pools of blue full of fury and anguish. Tommy is covered in blood. His face is streaked with crimson red, and I have no way to tell if it’s his or someone else’s. My money is on the latter, but I can’t stick around to find out.
I turn on my heel and move as quickly as I can through the door, not stopping when the guards say something to me or when a car alarm is set off right beside me. No, it’s only when I slip into the back of the first cab I find that I stop to breathe.
What the fuck just happened?
