Page 21 of Absinthe Dreams
"He texted me." I scowl at the reminder. "Can you believe he actually offered to give me back my job if I lied to his wife and told her that I made it all up?"
"What the fuck?" Trystan's expression goes stony. "Why isn't he blocked?"
"He is!" I cry, instantly annoyed at the assumption. "I blocked him right after he sent me those messages." I glare at Trystan as he dabs ointment on my wrist. "And even if I hadn't, that doesn't make it my fault he's harassing me."
"I never said that."
"You sure? Because that's what it sounded like to me. I know damn well that you were taught better than to victim-blame. I know your parents." Uncle Eli would crawl all over his ass for something like that.
"What the fuck? That's not what I was doing, baby.Of course,it isn't your fault. It never even crossed my mind to blame you. The only one responsible is the fucking asshole who decided being your boss gave him a free pass to try to get in your pants. He deserves to have his balls ripped out through his throat for even thinking the shit he sent you."
"You asked why I hadn't blocked him."
"It wasn't meant to be an accusation," he says softly. "I was just asking how he was contacting you because you shouldn't have to deal with that shit."
"Oh," I say, slightly mollified. "He used a different number. Probably a text app, which is honestly gross in and of itself." I pause. "I'mnotlying for him."
"Hell no, you aren't," Trystan growls.
"I have to tell my dad." It's the only option I have at this point. As much as I don't want to risk him murdering Donny, if I don't tell him now, it'll only be worse when he does find out. And since Donny clearly isn't willing to let it go, now that I've told his wife, my dad is going to find out what really happened sooner or later. Honestly, I'm not sure why I ever thought I could keep it from him in the first place.
"Yeah, princess, I think you do," Trystan murmurs softly, gently massaging my wrist.
"I'm worried."
"Hey." He tips my chin up with his free hand, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, you know that, right?"
I nod silently, my eyes locked on his face. One thing I've never doubted over the years is his willingness to protect me. Evenwhen I didn't want it, I had his protection. Even when I resented it, I had it. I'm not worried about me. I know Donny can't hurt me, especially with Trystan here.
My former boss is a non-factor in my life at this point. I'm annoyed he's bugging me, sure, but I'm not afraid of him.
But I don't want anyone I care about to go to jail because he's an asshole, though. And judging by the look in Trystan's eyes, I don't think my dad is the only one I need to worry about here. He looks a tad homicidal, too.
"Promise me something," I whisper.
"Anything," he says without hesitation.
"Promise me that you won't do something stupid to punish him."
His lips compress into a grim line, and I know that's precisely what he's thinking about doing. The truth is right there in his eyes. Trystan would risk jail for me.
"Please," I whisper, not above begging if that's what it takes to earn his promise.
"You don't need to worry about me, Chloe."
"Iamworried about you!" I cry. "I've always worried about you. God, Trystan, don't you get it? I can't lose you because of him. I won't. Not now. Not when…" I choke on the words, not even sure what I'm trying to say.
"Not when what?" he asks, his voice a scrap of sound.
"Not when I know you heard me last night. Iknowyou were outside of my door, listening to me moan for you the same damn way I always do when I touch myself."
"Jesus," he rasps, eyes locked on my face like not even the combined might of heaven or hell could force him to look away right now.
"You think you're the only one with fantasies? Well, you aren't," I cry. "It's always been you. And I won't let my asshole ofan ex-boss be the thing that takes you from me when I finally feel like maybe there's hope for us."
He groans softly, wordlessly, his eyes still locked on my face. He's so still, like he's frozen in place. I'm not even sure he's breathing at this point.
"Fuck it," he growls suddenly, lifting me out of my chair into his arms.
