Page 44 of How We End
“Don’t.”I pushed past him and Margo.Don’t cry, I reminded myself.
“You don’t have any shoes on,” Margo called.
“Fuck off.”I pushed the button on the elevator.Thankfully, the door opened.
Maverick tore open the penthouse door.“Get back in here.”
“If you want to finish, Mr.Sands, then go find Dallas.”I stepped inside the elevator and pushed the down button.I sagged against the wall, taking a bit of pride in the fact that I didn’t cry.On the ground floor, I kept my head high as I walked barefoot across the lobby.In any other city, this might look bad, but in Vegas hearts broke every day.And women were reminded of their place more often than not.
I stood looking out the glass door, realizing I had nowhere to go.I left my purse and keys in the fucking room.I was still that stupid girl Maverick had to rescue all those years ago.I had learned nothing.And that’s when the first tear fell.
“Wy—Cassidy.”Jackson’s voice boomed across the lobby.He jogged up to me.“You can’t leave without shoes.”
“I hate him.”I hated myself more.
“I know.Come on.”Jackson hustled me through a secure door to the employee area.Down the hallway, he scanned his badge and pushed open the door.The room looked like a break room.Tables and chairs were scattered in the dimly lit room.“In here.”He held open another door to a smaller room with a couch and TV.“You want some coffee?”
I shook my head no, still clutching my clothes.
“Margo is going to get him calmed down, and then we can go back up.”Jackson motioned for me to sit.“He saw Silver leaving this morning.And there is no reason for a hockey player with damp hair to be here at seven a.m., other than you,” Jackson said, pouring me a cup of coffee.
I took the coffee and blew on it.It smelled bitter and old, but I still sipped it, hoping for warmth.“I wasn’t being careless with Julian.He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I know.I wouldn’t have left you with him if I thought you’d be in danger.”Jackson sat down, throwing one arm over the back of the chair.
“He’s just a client.It’s nothing.Julian is just a… a client.It’s nothing more.”I didn’t know if I was telling Jackson or myself that.
Jackson snorted out a laugh.“Right, and next year I’ll be playing for the Raiders.”
“Crazier things have happened.”Jackson had been the one to bail me out of jail.Jackson dealt with the German who brought a gun.The guy who didn’t want to use a condom.The one who wouldn’t leave.It was always Jackson.Not Maverick.I was nothing without Jackson.Men like Maverick were also a dime a dozen.
“Like you letting Maverick hurt you?”
I looked over at the employment posters on the wall.It wasn’t the words Maverick spoke.It was the truth of them.The reality of them.Julian was nothing more than a client.Like Maverick and Richard.And in a few years, we’d end up here too.Bitter and angry for the choices we had made.I didn’t want that for Julian and me.I wanted a happy ending for us.Okay, maybe happy was the wrong word.A good ending.“I really fucked up, didn’t I?”
“With Mav, no.He’ll be back to his charming self by lunch.As for Mr.Hockey, I think you’ve finally met your match with him.You don’t know what to do with a man like Julian.”
“He’s just a man,” I whispered.“A regular client.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Margo walked in, carrying a pair of shoes.“He’s gone.Are you okay?”She looked at me.
“I’m fine.”I let Jackson’s and my conversation die on the tile floor of the break room.It didn’t matter what he thought or what I wanted because as much as I hated Maverick, he was right.I needed the money this job paid me because I’d been rich and I’d been poor.And being rich was a hell of a lot easier.
Margo shifted her attention back to Jackson.“I didn’t run any reports.I just got here.He saw Julian leaving.”
“I know.Jackson told me.”
“I know it’s not an excuse, but Mav does care about you.He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”Margo sadly smiled, and Jackson scoffed.“Anyway, he said he didn’t mean any of it and you are, of course, welcome to stay here and in Henderson.I suggested he go for a run or a fucking lobotomy.And that if he tried to talk to you without the words ‘I’m sorry’ coming from that stupid mouth of his, then Jackson would beat some sense into him.”Margo picked up the shirt I had dropped.“Jackson can take you back up and make sure pissy pants stays away.”
As much as I didn’t want to go back to that life, it was the only one I knew.
And Julian didn’t fit.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
WYATT
