Page 92 of Break Me
Thankfully, I hadn’t been reprimanded for running into a burning structure without backup. Maybe I should consider myself lucky.
“Look, I didn’t want to push you on this because you were so upset, but what Alexsey did was incredible. You act as if he wants to control your entire life.” Kristine had a good point.
“He acts like he does. Like he already owns me and I’ll just happily do whatever he wants, accepting every… generous gesture. That’s not me.”
“Well, maybe you’re being a little too hard on both him and you,” Kristine admonished. “You are a hard worker. You’re an amazing firefighter and an even better woman, but for God’s sake, why do you act as if it’s you against the world? I know what I said about Alexsey and from what I’ve read in the press, I was right to say associating with him could be dangerous, but did you bother paying any attention to everything else he and his family have done for this city, their community?”
I chewed on my lip, which I’d been doing all morning. At this point, I could taste blood. “I know his family is a benefactor of the children’s hospital.”
“So you haven’t paid any attention to the various articles the last few days.”
“No.” I hated admitting it. Maybe I’d been terrified if I heard more good things about him I’d lose all self-control.
“Jesus. You’re my sister and I adore you, but you’re the most hardheaded person I’ve ever met. I’m going to send you a link to what I think is the best article I’ve read. And the person who wrote the story isn’t completely biased or being paid by the Dmitriyev family. He gives them their share of black marks. But I can tell you that after reading it, I wanted to be Alexsey’s princess. And you are. That’s what makes me crazy. He’s already fallen for you. He would do anything to keep you and Emily protected. Geez. We should all be so lucky.”
“Oh, please.”
“You know like the romance novels you refuse to read? He falls first. Just think about that. Maybe, just maybe once you’ve read the article you’ll get your head out of your ass.”
“Very funny. Are you okay with coming over this afternoon? I have a shift at O’Leary’s, but I think you’re right. I’m going to have a nice, long talk with Liam.”
Kristine giggled. “I’ll bring a couple bottles of wine for when you get off work. We’ll celebrate.”
My sister had a way of making me smile. Ending the call, I slid my phone across the table, still exasperated from the events of the last few days. Fifteen thousand dollars minimum for a support animal. If I won the lottery, which I hadn’t played in years, that would be my first action. Maybe I could get a loan. Yeah, right. My credit wasn’t exactly in the stellar range.
Oh, life was so frustrating.
I dropped my head into my hands, taking deep and controlled breaths to try to calm the heavy anxiety.
A slight commotion caught my attention less than a minute later. Jerking my head up, I tried to figure out what I was hearing. Not exactly shouting, but that had to be Mark’s deep voice. Rising from the chair, I headed in the direction of the noise.
“No, you cannot come into the firehouse,” Mark was stating in a much louder voice than normal and he was angry.
Who the hell was he talking to?
I stormed toward the front, certainly not surprised to see a group of people from Channel 9 News standing on the concrete driveway. Of course their presence angered me. They’d followedme everywhere and I’d had enough. I was at the point of finally telling them off. However, in seeing every firefighter currently working the shift standing outside at attention, I was momentarily taken aback.
And hurt.
Suddenly, one of the male reporters caught sight of me and tried to bulldoze his way toward me. His arm was already outstretched, the microphone pointed in my direction. “Ms. O’Leary. Can you tell me the status of your relationship with Mr. Dmitriyev? Are you aware of his ties to the criminal underworld? What can you tell us about the assassination attempt on Mr. Dmitriyev’s life? These are some pretty sexy pictures of the two of you together.”
Heat swept up every inch of my face, the shock and horror creating a knot in my stomach.
My God. The pictures were even worse, even more intimate than what I’d seen floating on the internet. They’d been taken inside the restaurant and from the angle of the camera and the lens used, there was no doubt what was happening between the two of us.
Immediately nauseated, I’d never felt so humiliated in my life. Blinking furiously, I did everything in my power not to tear up. Not now. Not in front of my men.
I wasn’t usually the kind of woman to freeze when confronted by anything. Yet right now, I felt tongue tied. Maybe because I was standing in front of a group of men I’d tried very hard to impress over the years. Or maybe because I’d hoped that they would consider me a friend.
My fists were clenched, vicious anger just below the surface and beads of perspiration were tickling the back of my neck, but I was frozen like a statue.
It was quiet enough you could hear a pin drop. Goddamn it. They were waiting for me to say something. To make a fool of myself. I couldn’t give them or anyone else the satisfaction.
Even my feet seemed stuck to the concrete. Finally, I managed to take a couple of steps toward him and tried to smile. The firefighters were staring at me. This was horrible.
Mark exhaled, glanced from right to left and suddenly every firefighter stepped forward, momentarily blocking my view and the reporter’s.
“First of all,” Jeff started. “It’s Captain O’Leary and for the record, she’s one of the finest firefighters I’ve ever had the privilege of working with, so give her the respect she’s due. Those pictures are disgusting and were taken without permission. For you to use them for a story is disgusting.”
