Page 99 of Pressure

"You did exemplary work. I'm sorry to see you go. I hope you work things out with Lance."

A sob escaped her. "I don't think that's possible."

"Do you need to talk to someone? What happened?"

Her head shook back and forth. "No. I'm fine. I really need to go. You have my bank details. I just wanted to say thank you for the job."

Downstairs, her hand hovered over the handle of the exit. For a brief moment, she'd thought she might find a new home here, but that obviously wasn't meant to be.

"You're making a mistake," a voice said as she gripped the handle and pulled.

She turned to find Austin standing there.

"You don't understand. He doesn't trust me. I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me."

"You didn't hear the entire conversation. Lance trusts you, sweetie. It's himself he doesn't trust. Why do you think he called Patrick first?"

Marissa shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We will always have this divide between us. Some things are just too tough to get over no matter how much you love a person."

Austin lifted an eyebrow. "If you love him, that's bullshit and I think you know it. Don't run away from this."

Marissa held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well but I really need to go. Tell everyone I'm sorry and it was nice meeting them."

On the plane, she did her best to hold her sobs in. She should have gone with her gut and walked as soon as she realized Lance was involved. Letting him back into her life was always going to be a mistake. He had entirely too much power to hurt her and undo all the work she'd done on herself in the last five years. Nobody deserved that kind of power over her.

She ordered a mini bottle of whiskey and chugged it, hoping it would make her sleep. It didn't.

At the Chicago airport, she jogged through the airport intent on catching the train into the city.

As she stepped out of the secure area, her heart stopped.

Lance stood, his hands in his pockets, waiting on her.

Fuck. How had he figured out which flight she was on?

"Go home, Lance," she said bitterly as she tried to walk past him.

His hand gripped her elbow and steered her to the wall out of the path of other disembarking passengers.

"I have nothing to say to you," she hissed as he pressed her against the wall.

"Then fucking listen to me." His breath was hot on her neck as he growled in her ear.

"I don't know what you heard but it's not what you think, clear?"

She shook her head and squirmed to get away from him.

"Stop struggling or you're going to attract airport security," he hissed.

"Someone used your credentials to plant malware. You're being set up again."

Her heart dropped as she whipped her gaze back to his.

"And you thought it was me at first. You actually believed it. Even if it was for just a minute. You rescinded my credentials and didn't say a thing to me when I asked about it."

"What did you want me to do? Someone clearly has your credentials, Riss."

"So, you fucking tell me what you're doing and why you shut them off. You don't call Patrick or the cops or anyone else. Your first call should have fucking been to me. Because you trust me. But that's the problem. You don't. And I don't trust you either and we may never trust each other. That's a deal breaker. Now back the fuck up and let me go before I miss the next train."

"My driver will take you somewhere."

"No. Or do you only respect that word when it's convenient?"

That made him back up, a sad look in his eyes.

"Please, Riss. Don't leave like this."

She dropped her head, afraid she might cry in front of him. "I'm sorry. I just can't do this."

Without another word, she brushed past him and marched in the train’s direction.