Page 21 of The Ruckup
“I don’t know what would happen if he and Leo ever crossed paths.” I rub my eyes again, trying to rid them of the burn brought on by exhaustion and stress. “But I know it wouldn’t be good.”
The three women in my office suddenly go still, and I look up to see them staring out the window into the parking lot. For a heartbeat, they’re all frozen.
Then the group springs to action.
“Go lock the door, Sharon.” Sylvia barks out the order, sounding nothing like the sweet, grandmotherly woman I know. She turns to Betty next. “You got anything in your purse?”
Betty yanks open her handbag as Sharon rushes into the vestibule and flips the deadbolt on the entry door. After digging around the contents for a second, Betty whips out a device I can’t quite identify. It makes a crackling noise as she tests the button on the side. “Do I get to fry his nuts?”
I stand, skin going cold. “What’s going on?” My eyes dart to the window just as Sylvia lowers the blinds and flips them closed.
Once my view of outside is blocked, she turns to me, expression serious. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
I hear someone pull on the doors, yanking harder when they don’t open. Then a familiar voice carries in.
“Maddie. Open this fucking door right now. I know you’re in there.”
I’ve been working really hard to try to get past all the terrible things that happened during my marriage. But obviously I haven’t come far at all. Because the sound of my ex-husband’s voice makes me want to cower.
Want to hide.
Sylvia comes to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as she eases me back into my chair. “Don’t you worry. He’s not going to get anywhere near you.”
I can barely breathe, let alone speak, so I just nod, praying she’s right. I knew what it would mean when I left Drake. Knew things would get worse.
Knew I would only be able to hide from him for so long.
Still, part of me desperately wanted to think my life could go back to normal. That I could be a regular girl with a regular job. That I wouldn’t always be looking over my shoulder or jumping at every sound outside my windows at night.
“Keep breathing.” Sylvia’s wrinkled face hovers in front of mine. “Don’t pass out on me.”
Maybe I want to pass out. Being unconscious sounds pretty darn great right now. Way better than being coherent enough to listen to Drake beat on the glass of the door as he continues calling me awful names at the top of his lungs.
“Oh shit.” Sharon’s voice gets louder as she turns our way. “I think we have a problem.”
Oh God. The glass is going to break. He’s going to get in. He’s going to hurt me.
And maybe the people around me.
Drake’s yelling stops abruptly, cutting off on an odd sort of yelp. It’s almost eerie how quiet it gets. I hold my breath, waiting.
What comes next nearly has me falling out of my seat.
Drake slams his entire weight against the glass door, hitting it so hard it rattles. The need to flee has me on my feet, rounding mydesk with the plan to crawl out the bathroom window. Hopefully my friends are limber, because they’re definitely coming with me, even if I have to shove them through myself.
The path to the bathroom takes me close enough to the vestibule I get a glimpse of Drake.
When my eyes land on his body pressed against the glass, I stop dead in my tracks, unable to look away as he’s peeled off the door before being slammed back into it, nose bloodied, face smashed against the clear surface.
“We should probably do som—” Sharon waves one hand dismissively. “Never mind. That detective who’s trying to figure out what happened with the carbecue is handling it.”
“They’re arresting him?” I rush for the door, adrenaline and fear making me stupid. I stop when I get a full view of the scene outside.
Unfortunately, it also offers a full view of me, and Drake’s eyes immediately meet mine. I expect him to smirk or yell or something, but he just stands there, swaying slightly as he stares.
My gaze only stays on him a second before swinging to the reason Drake is bleeding and dazed. Leo stands on the other side of the detective who was in my office not long ago, chest heaving, eyes wild. The detective has his arms stretched out like he can single handedly keep the two men apart.
But I know it’s not true. There’s only one thing keeping Leo from breaking Drake in half, and it’s not the detective.
