Gone

She consumed every part of me and I didn't even know her last name. What I did know was once I had her, the thought of losing her terrified me.

I still wanted what was best for her; even if that wasn't me. But after a year of a want and need so strong I ached just thinking about her, she asked me to stay. And then she trusted me to keep her safe.

Once I eliminate the threat against her, I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving that I'm not what's best for her, I'm the only one for her.

“Izzy.”

I swallow nervously, then peer up at him. “Yeah?”

“Relax.”

“Okay.”

“Now tell me why you look upset.”

That’s a nice way to say I look like crap. “Wh—?”

“You’re gorgeous,” he practically snaps at me. “So get that outta your head.”

“What?”

“That I implied you weren’t as beautiful as you are. Tell me why you’re upset.”

I want to ask him why he cares or what difference it makes, but he called me beautiful, and the hard set of his jaw and those dark, piercing eyes taunt me to tell him everything; my secrets, dreams, fantasies. “My boss is just a jerk.”

“You don’t need to put up with him.”

“I kind of have to.”

He leans back in the booth and crosses his beefy arms. “He touch you a lot?”

My head spins at these rapid-fire questions and answers. “What?”

“I saw him yesterday. I couldn’t tell if you wanted to barf or smack him when he put his hand on your shoulder.”

Wow, I guess he was really paying attention. “No, he doesn’t do it often. But I didn’t want to do one or the other, I wanted to do both. He’s just a condescending, pompous jackass.”

“Next time he puts his hands on you, I’d like to say I’d vote for you slapping him, but he seems like the kind of guy who’d hit back. Then I’d have to kill him and that would get messy, so maybe just puke on him instead.” He shrugs as he shoves a chip in his mouth, and I can do nothing but stare at the man.

Something about him magnetizes me to him. And it’s not just every inch of his male perfection, either. It’s also the way he carries himself with a calm, cool confidence that is unparalleled.

“Believe it or not, I actually know how to throw a mean hook, so if he did hit me back, I’d knock his lanky butt out.”

Damien gives me a half smile. “Oh, yeah? Who taught you how to fight?”

“My brother.”

“So why haven’t you laid him out, then? You don’t come across as the kind of woman who would take crap from someone.”

He’s right, and I wish I could tell him the real reason, but I can’t. Nobody can know. “I need my job. And he’s harmless.”

“Until he steps it up.”

The sad thing is, I know that he’s right. Dr. Rickman’s behavior has escalated. But I don’t want to talk about this anymore, so I change the subject. “You weren’t waiting for somebody, were you?”

He relaxes in the booth, one muscular arm stretched across the seat. “I wasn’t until she showed up.”