JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  And Dan wanted the knowledge I’d gleaned from that night. He’d asked this morning, and I’d deflected. It hadn’t seemed right to divulge what had happened in Roland’s office—not the positive feedback he’d gotten from his colleagues about expanding the company into Africa and Asia ahead of Europe, and certainly not the fact that Roland had admitted to having feelings for me that went a little beyond that of boss and employee.

  And definitely not the fact that I’d told him the feeling was mutual.

  Dan’s foul breath brought me back to my present predicament. I was going to have to do some quick stepping to get myself out of this one. I could acquiesce to what he was asking for and then make my escape, maybe by saying I wanted to freshen up in the bathroom. Or I could just tell him to fuck off and fight for all I was worth. I thought Dan was a good person, but I’d obviously been horribly mistaken.

  I’d also thought that Roland was a beast, just like the rest of the office, but I’d been mistaken in that judgment, too.

  It was Dan who was the beast.

  Never mind that whatever path I chose probably meant the end of my career. Whatever was about to happen, I couldn’t go back to the office in the morning and pretend like everything was all right. Nothing was all right. Dan was in the midst of forcing himself upon me, and there would be no good way to keep my job. It would never stand in court. I could hear it now…lowly assistant threw herself at rich executive, then accused him of raping her.

  It didn’t look good, and it didn’t matter what the truth was.

  The real truth was that, no matter what happened, I wasn’t going to come out of this unscathed.

  A soft snore, then a louder one, startled me out of my planning. I carefully craned my neck sideways and peered downward to see that Dan had passed out drunk right on top of me, drooling a little onto the expensive comforter we were sprawled on top of.

  If I hadn’t been just about to fight for my life, I would’ve laughed at how stupid this all was. All of that bluster and Dan was too drunk to make good on his threat.

  Cautious, I wriggled a bit just to see if he’d wake up, but Dan only snorted and smacked his lips before resuming his deep sleep. That was just fine with me. I heaved and scrambled in earnest out from underneath his heavy frame until I fell off the bed itself with a heavy thump. Dazed, I just rested there a few long seconds, breathing hard, sure the disturbance was enough to wake him.

  But when I peeked above the bed again, I was greeted with Dan’s sleeping face, his dark beard glistening with his own saliva. It was pathetic, really. What had I ever seen in him? Had his looks and position of power blinded me to the animal that resided within him? Perhaps the fact that he had shown me the slightest bit of attention? Had I made myself easy to take advantage of? I’d removed myself from society after the car wreck. Had I completely lost my ability to assess other people’s intentions in the interim?

  I didn’t want to stay here while I pondered the intricacies of what had just happened. I had to get out of here.

  The veneer of Dan’s amazing home had worn off as I padded through it, trying to keep my footfalls quiet. Even the wall-sized indoor waterfall had taken on a menacing feeling instead of being meditative, relaxing.

  I realized my hands were shaking in the elevator, but I put on a brave face down in the lobby. It was late; I was without transportation; and I needed help.

  “Would you please call me a taxi?” I asked, fighting to keep a polite smile on my face as I approached the doorman.

  “You’re in luck,” he said, pointing outside. “Someone just got dropped off. Here—I’ll hold it for you.”

  The shaking intensified once I was in the backseat of the taxi, riding across the city, rain lashing the window and making everything blurry. It rained a lot here, something I still hadn’t gotten used to. It wasn’t as if it had never rained in Houston. On the contrary, sometimes the Texas skies simply opened up and dumped tons and tons of water on the city below, flooding yards and even streets. But here, in Seattle, the city seemed more used to the rain. It wasn’t tumultuous when the clouds overfilled with moisture. It was simply the next most natural thing to happen, and the people who lived here just became attached to their galoshes and umbrellas.

  I hadn’t adapted yet. I wasn’t used to anything here.

  It wasn’t until I was back in my apartment, showering in an effort to wash this night off of me, that everything sort of hit me. Dan wasn’t who I thought he was. He’d invited me over to his place with ulterior motives and bad intentions. I had almost succumbed to what he was going to force me to do. It was only through the grace of my shock and indecision—and the gallons of alcohol that Dan had downed—that had saved me from whatever he’d had in mind.

  If he hadn’t have passed out right on top of me, then I would still be in that palatial hell, forced to have sex with him against my will….

  I shuddered and leaned against the tiled wall of my shower, my knees feeling suddenly too weak to support me. Was that what would’ve happened? I couldn’t help but wonder who would’ve been more at fault. I trusted Dan. I believed he really cared for me and had feelings for me. Had I misunderstood everything that had happened between us up until this point? Had I put myself in danger—however unwittingly? Our relationship had been becoming more and more physical. Could I be held accountable for what almost happened?

  I tried to shake myself free of that notion. No. Dan had betrayed my trust. He had lured me to his place under false pretensions. He’d planned this out since this morning. He was a bad person. He was a bad person, and I wasn’t ever going to see him again.

  Finally, I gained the strength to be sure that I was not going to collapse getting out of the shower and turned the water off. I was able to get into a robe and wrap my dripping hair into a towel before throwing myself into bed. This felt like a bad dream, a nightmare that I had yet to wake up from. I was afraid of staying awake and dwelling on all of this confusion and shock, but my mind and body seemed to take pity on me in this situation and I fell quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Waking up, some rare sun cut across my bed and warmed the covers; I was beneath them, still wrapped in damp terrycloth. I forgot, momentarily, where I was. The disorientation clung to me as I struggled to open my gummy eyes and assess the situation. Could I be in my childhood bed, my parents having yet to call me for breakfast? Maybe I’d stayed the night at Caro’s house, and she was still snoozing beside me. I knew I wasn’t in the hospital; there wasn’t a telltale beep of a heart monitor. And I was too comfortable to be waking up in my car.

  I blinked slowly, my eyes gradually adjusting, until my bedroom in Seattle came into focus. I needed to pick up. I’d slung clothes around while I was getting ready for my date with Dan….

  And with a rush, there it all was again. No matter how hard I willed it to be, Dan acting like a monster hadn’t been a dream. It had really happened. I flopped over onto my stomach with a groan and pressed my face into the pillow. Why was this happening? What had he been thinking? What was I thinking?

  My phone buzzed, and I groaned. Surely I had just a few more long moments to languish in bed before I had to get up and get ready for work. I gagged suddenly at the thought of being in the same building as Dan, let alone seeing him. It was crystal clear to me that I was nowhere near ready to go to work today.

  I needn’t have bothered with that sentiment. A quick glance at my phone informed me that I’d overslept by two whole hours, missing calls and texts from Roland, Dan, and even Sam, who must’ve caught a whiff of controversy from her position at the receptionist’s desk on my floor.

  Hers was the most recent text message. Are you okay? it read. Everyone’s wondering where you are.

  I hesitated. Was I okay? Absolutely not. But was I about to tell anyone else that? No. I needed a poker face. I didn’t want anyone questioning me.

  I was sick all night and must’ve overslept my alarm, I texted back. The oversleeping part was true, at least. I’
m not coming in today.

  Roland’s message was next. You’re not at work, and I have a feeling I know why. I’m not angry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I hope you’re all right.

  I rubbed my face, feeling guilty. He probably thought I didn’t want to come to work to face him after he’d admitted having feelings for me. Hadn’t we agreed that we’d be professionals about it? That was, of course, before his brother had threatened me and tried to attack me. And now that I failed to show up to work or give Roland a call, he probably thought I couldn’t handle it.

  I forwarded the same message I’d sent to Sam to him, explaining my absence, then hesitated before typing something else out.

  And it’s not because of what we talked about, either, I wrote. That’s not why I’m at home. I promise. I sent the message before I could overthink it.

  My fingers failed me for a few long moments, lingering over the display for Roland’s messages, before seeing what Dan had sent me. I didn’t know why I tortured myself, why I simply had to see what he wanted to say. Hadn’t he said enough last night? Wouldn’t he have the sense to stay away?

  We need to talk, Dan had typed, and that was it. I stared at the message, puzzled. We needed to talk? At the very least, he should’ve started with an apology if he thought we actually needed to talk. What else could there possibly be to talk about?

  I threw my phone aside and burrowed back into the bed. I had the day to myself, now that I’d officially informed everyone I needed to that I wasn’t going in to work, but somehow that was worse. Maybe I would’ve been better off at work, near Roland…safe. I didn’t really understand why, but the idea of being just a closed door away from Roland all day, his camera pointed at my desk, was a lot more appealing than being alone, at home.

  At least there would be someone to keep an eye on me, at the office. Someone who made me feel safe.

  I could’ve watched daytime television, or fixed myself something to eat, or even ordered takeout. The day was mine. I could do whatever I wanted. Instead, I languished in bed, trying to make sense of what had happened last night. There wasn’t anything I could think of that would make what had happened make sense.

  At least part of me wished that Dan’s cryptic text—we need to talk—meant that he needed to explain himself. That maybe he’d lost himself in the alcohol and his attraction toward me and the smoldering build of our relationship. Maybe he’d realized what a terrible mistake he’d made. But was I ready—or even willing—to forgive him for what he’d done?

  I’d been terrified that I was going to get raped. I didn’t think I could come out on the other side of that. There were already so many tragedies in my life that I didn’t think I could handle one more. The fact that Dan had passed out cold from all the booze he’d had was both lucky and telling. Maybe, if he hadn’t been that drunk, he never would’ve gone that far. I could maybe understand his sexual frustrations. We’d come close several times, but he’d always respected the boundaries I’d set, the restrictions I needed to feel sane. What I couldn’t understand was that he would force me to do anything against my will. That wasn’t the man I thought I knew. It was why last night had come out of left field for me. I was more bewildered than angry. It still felt like a dream, even if I was awake now.

  I finally gave in and treated myself to a pizza. If comfort food wouldn’t make me feel at least a little bit better, then I wasn’t sure I’d ever get my day off on track. Out of the blue, the intercom for my door buzzed. I frowned. There was no way that could be my order. I had literally just clicked the button to submit my request for pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. Were the pizza gods smiling on me? It seemed unlikely. No restaurant was that lightning fast, and no pizza deliveryman had wings. Both miracles would’ve been required for the person wishing to gain access to the building to have my brunch on hand.

  Puzzled, I wandered out of bed and pushed the button to communicate on the intercom.

  “Yes?” I asked. “Who is it?”

  If it was the pizza, I would give the biggest tip in the history of pizza tips.

  “Beauty, we’re going to talk…whether you like it or not. Let me in.”

  It wasn’t the pizza at all. It was Dan.

  Chapter 14

  I didn’t understand what got into my knees to make them so weak and make me lean against the wall like I was about to faint. I didn’t understand, and I didn’t like it.

  “Beauty. Buzz me in. Now.”

  Why did something as simple as a voice cause such a reaction in me? He was whole floors away, and I was the one who held the power. Dan had sought me out, and he needed my help to get into my building. It was help I wasn’t going to give him. It was help I didn’t have to give him.

  I reached a trembling hand to the intercom. “Fuck off,” I suggested, sounding a lot braver than I felt. That was good. He didn’t need to know how I felt. As long as I kept up a strong front, there was no way that Dan would ever figure out just how terrified I actually was.

  “Language,” Dan laughed. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be getting lessons on manners. You made your nice old neighbor lady blush. Oh, thank you for holding the door. I really appreciate it.”

  I blanched, as I realized what had happened. One of my unwitting neighbors had entered the building and allowed Dan to do so, as well. Lurching to my front door on increasingly unsteady legs, I checked the locks and engaged the deadbolt. I was safe in here. It was hard to convince myself of that fact, but it was true. Dan might have been able to get into the building, but he couldn’t get in here to me.

  The knock on the door made me sink slowly to the floor. I felt like I was going to vomit everywhere. I hugged my trembling knees to my chest and just stared at the door. It seemed impossibly thin, the locks shoddy and untrustworthy.

  “Beauty?”

  I shook my head violently. No. No, this wasn’t happening. I didn’t want this to be happening. Why had he come here? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

  “I don’t want to see you,” I said, having to force the syllables out from between chattering teeth.

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “We have things we need to talk about.”

  “You mean things you have to apologize for,” I shot back, sassy despite my precarious situation. It struck me that maybe I should get my phone in case things went even further south than they already were, but standing up and walking to the bedroom was out of the question. I was rooted to the spot, and my legs had failed me.

  I didn’t understand why my reaction to Dan’s presence had been so visceral, so physical. I was quite literally petrified, as in I was too frightened to move from where I’d fallen to the ground, and it confounded me. I’d never reacted like this to anything in my life. My adrenaline—the fight or flight sensibility that was supposed to keep me safe, or at least alive and kicking in these situations—had failed me. If Dan were a hungry wolf, drooling and growling in my face, I’d basically just offered myself up as supper.

  “These things we have to talk about…they would be better said in person, face to face,” he said.

  I wasn’t fooled—or swayed. “If you have something to say, I can hear you just fine with a door between us.”

  I jumped and scrambled backward as the doorknob rattled and shook. I couldn’t believe that he would try to enter my home after I told him no. It made me extra thankful that I had checked the locks while he was on his way up here.

  “Don’t you think if I wanted to, I could be in there with you?” he asked, his voice silky and threatening at the same time. “If I wanted to, Beauty, I’d kick this door down to say to you what needs to be said. I probably wouldn’t be as polite though.”

  “And I would probably stab you,” I said, craning my neck and wondering if I could muster the strength—at least temporarily—to rise and fish a steak knife out of its drawer.

  “You wouldn’t stab me.”

  “If that’s what you think, you’re more than welcome to try and b
reak down the door.”

  I pulled myself up using the countertop to steady myself. My bravado was helping me pretend to be something I wasn’t, helping me ignore my fear. It was even better when I slid a drawer open to see the metallic gleam of the butcher’s knife I’d purchased with Roland’s credit card.

  “Beauty, you and I need to come to an understanding,” Dan said. “We both have things the other wants.”

  Putting the heavy wooden hilt of the knife in the palm of my hand and gripping it gave me enough courage to laugh haughtily at that statement.

  “I can assure you that you have nothing I want,” I told him. I was still shaking, but at least I was making my stand.

  “I have numerous things that you want,” he said, his words measured. “Numerous things that any woman would want. A prestigious name, for one. A fortune that gives me more disposable income than I know how to spend. Good looks. An incredible car, an incredible house, an incredible future. Any woman would want that. That’s why she would lie to the police when she didn’t get her way, when I rebuffed her affections. That’s why she would lie and say that I attacked her—because she is nothing and she wants a piece of something.”

  “I don’t care about any of that,” I said, scowling. I knew he was threatening me with what he’d do if I tried to go to the police to file any kind of complaint against him. We both knew that Dan’s sparkling reputation would be all the assurances an investigating officer would need to see to dismiss anything I tried to say or show or do.

  “Don’t be naïve,” Dan was saying. “Everyone cares about that. I’ve never met a single person who didn’t want to be comfortable in life, who didn’t desire the finer things.”

  “Then go be with one of those people,” I said. “I don’t want anything you’re offering.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

  “Leave me alone!” What was so special about me that Dan had to pursue this? I wasn’t special. He’d said it himself. If I went to the police, he’d tell them I was a nobody who wanted to be with a somebody, who’d escalated a friendly relationship into something it wasn’t. So why did he insist on pushing me? What was it that I had that he wanted? Why was he outside my door? Why did I feel so threatened that I was clutching the biggest knife I owned?