Page 84 of Big & Bossy

“Your shirt is torn,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder, gently turning her. She jumped at the contact, and my heart sank. She had just been assaulted, and here I was, touching her. Idiot.

“It caught on the cabinet. I’m fine.”

“You’re in shock, Miranda. You’re not fine,” I bit out.

“I’ll be fine,” she clarified, her eyes searching mine for something, anything. Likely reassurance. I wanted so desperately to give that to her, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I could with Harry still in the room. I could feel his presence behind me, his eyes boring into my back, his seething tongue desperate to hurtle attacks my way.

I turned to him. The officer held a knee in the small of his back, smashing Harry’s face into the cold metal. “Is this what you wanted?” I snapped, my hands balling into fists. Calm down. You have to calm down for her. “You wanted her, right? That’s what this was about?”

He pursed his lips. An answer by omission.

“You’ve fucking traumatized her. You’ve ruined it for yourself, and it was entirely your own doing, not mine.”

“Jack, stop,” Mandy whispered, her hand grabbing at my suit jacket.

“Did you really think you were being thorough? Did you think you wouldn’t get caught?” I continued, taking a step toward him, anger boiling up again. Mandy pulled harder, and a uniformed arm came across my chest, stopping me in my tracks. “Did you really think you could get one over on me? I own a fucking tech company, Harry!”

“It still worked,” he sneered, his teeth showing as a chuckle crept up his throat. “That’s enough for me.”

“I’ll fucking—” I started, stopping myself before I could get the words out in front of the police. Didn’t need a death threat charge, not when he was going to have plenty of his own. I hoped with every ounce of my being that he at least got the shit beaten out of him while he waited on his inevitable bail, hoping he would learn some kind of lesson that wasn’t at Mandy’s expense.

He was lucky we weren’t alone this time.

————

Mandy’s body shook as she spoke to the police, my jacket slumped over her shoulders. Hopefully it would help a little with the shock, and she could have something familiar to hold on to.

With every interaction she recounted to them, every little detail of Harry’s behavior lately, it made me want to vomit. The signs had been there for a while. If we’d only just communicated, elaborated with each other that something was off, not quite right, maybe we would have figured things out sooner. Maybe we’d have ended up with a better outcome.

Stories of him interrogating her about the ring I’d given her, stories of him hurling nasty comments about how she’d end up crying on the floor of her bathroom when I decided I was done with her. I knew without a shadow of a doubt the ways in which I’d gotten things wrong, but never, not in a million years, would I do that. And he tried to make her believe I would. He tried to make her believe that my absence from her life was me pulling back, when in reality, he’d crafted the distraction himself. He’d sought me out that night in the garage, egged me on, and laughed when I punched him. What was it he’d said? God, she’s going to love this.

I wanted to splinter the wood beneath my feet.

The police had her sign some paperwork before they left, Harry already long gone and likely in a cell. It was an understatement to say that I hoped he never got out. I hoped he rotted in there.

I watched Mandy from the doorway. I was not about to overstep whatever boundaries she’d built up against me, but watching as the tears fall silently from the corners of her eyes as she stared blankly at her monitor was almost torture. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to make things better. I just didn’t know how.

Her mouth moved, silent words falling from her lips.

“What was that?” I asked, leaning forward.

“I didn’t want him to kiss me, I didn’t want him to touch me,” she said quietly, only a fraction louder. I caught it, though.

“I know. I know you didn’t.”

“Why did he…?” Her voice caught around a sob, her shoulders hunching forward, hands twitching.

“I don’t know, princess.” It took every ounce of strength to not cross the room, to not hold her. I couldn’t make this harder. I wouldn’t.

“I just feel like—“ Mandy cut herself off as she took in a trembling breath. “I feel like everything between him and me has been a lie. I turned him down years ago, Jack. Before we started our business. How much of this was planned?”

“I don’t know, Princess,” I repeated. My chest ached for her, ached for myself. I’d done the same thing as Harry. Worse, even. On a much larger scale. I’d brought myself to her uninvited, invaded her life. Was I no better than him in her eyes?

"He knew I didn’t want it.”

"I know.”

She bit her quivering lower lip. Swollen, red eyes met mine from behind her desk, her hands grasping at the lapels of my jacket around her. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “What you did isn’t comparable to him. Not at all.”

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