Page 109 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
“If you attack him without being sure, it’ll only drive her away,” TJ says, as though he knows exactly what my traitorous mind is telling me.
“Drive her away? She’s already gone!” Wrenching away from him, I swipe my hand across my desk. Everything crashes to the floor. More than a few items shatter. But the fury inside me is still raging.
I clutch the edge of my desk, shoulders tense and head hung low. My ragged breathing drowns out even the sound of my racing heart.
This singular taste of defeat is so bitter that I nearly gag. It’s almost as bad as her death. She never once said she didn’t love me. In fact, I know she does love me, and she knows I love her. But somehow, it isn’t enough to fix this.
“This isn’t good for you.” TJ’s voice is soft. Almost kind. “If she doesn’t come back, you need to let her go.”
My knuckles whiten around the desk. “I can’t.” My words crack. “I’d rather die.”
“Yeah? Well, if you don’t start taking care of yourself, you’ll get your wish.”
* * *
Iris
It’s almost eleven by the time the weekly Thursday status meeting ends. I’ve never had to attend one before, but now that I’m in charge of an initiative, I’m required to report on progress. I was nervous the first time, but I’m more relaxed about it now. The purpose of the meeting is mainly to see if anybody’s lagging behind and provide help. So many of our projects are time-sensitive. And everything’s on target so far.
Clutching my notes, I leave the conference room with everyone else. As I reach my desk, I spot TJ saying something furiously to Bobbi and stop.
My heart skips a beat as apprehension drips into my veins. Did something happen to Tony?
Almost immediately, I shake myself. If it had, somebody would’ve called. And Bobbi wouldn’t be staring at the messenger with crossed arms and a sour face.
So what’s going on? Did Tony send TJ to bring me home?
It’s been days. Maybe Tony ran out of patience. But I’m not ready to face him yet. I haven’t worked through my guilt or the fear of all the bad things I could’ve done. It’s one thing to be broken. Another to be vile. I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do, stuck in this weird limbo of not knowing and unable to make decisions. I have no clue if it’s even possible to come to grips with this kind of paralysis…or if I can be with Tony when I have all these messed-up things hanging over me. I start to turn away.
“Hey! Stop!” TJ yells.
I look over my shoulder, and TJ’s thick index finger is pointed at me. This has to be the first time he’s said so many words to me at once. He’s definitely here at Tony’s request.
He starts toward me. Bobbi yanks him back. Tolyan slowly stands, eyes hollow and cold, and moves around the desk.
Suddenly, the air is crackling with aggression. If I leave now, Bobbi, TJ and Tolyan are going to go at it.
The foundation is what’s keeping me sane. I can’t afford to lose my job here over a brawl. I turn to Tolyan. “You can go back to your desk.”
He arches an eyebrow, like he’s mortally offended I’m in his way. Annoyance pushes into me like a needle. I inhale, then pull myself together. He can’t make a scene in the office.
I look at Bobbi. “It’s fine.”
Her gaze slides in TJ’s direction, her lips pursing. She looks like she wants to punch her cousin out, but she finally backs down.
“And you.” I point at TJ. “This way.”
I start walking toward one of the smaller meeting rooms. He follows, quietly for such a large man. My coworkers crane their necks at the sight of the Visigoth. Embarrassment unfurls in my belly, and I stomp on it. Nobody knows who TJ is or why he’s here.
We enter a windowless room. A round table and three chairs fit in there, but that’s it. He shuts the door behind me. My mouth dries at how much space he takes up, the hostility coming off him. His eyes are narrow. His whole mien is like a bull about to charge.
And I’m the red cape he wants to trample. I should’ve at least gotten a room with a frosted glass wall.
TJ points at me, his head thrust forward and beard bristling. “Do you enjoy tormenting Tony?”
“What?” I say blankly. He can actually have a conversation. And he’s talking rather than thrashing me the way his gaze says he wants to.
“What did he do to you?”
