Safe and Sound (Twist of Fate 2)

Frustration coursed through me as I sent Ash a text as soon as I hung up. I waited several long moments, willing him to respond, but there was nothing.

“Everything okay?” Tomás asked, his face pinched with concern as he rounded the corner with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Yeah,” I said distractedly as I waved him away and returned to the conference room. I could see that Bomber and his agent were reviewing the documents. I mentally yelled at them to read faster as I returned to my seat.

“What are you doing?” Chase asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger as he whispered in my ear so that Bomber and his agent wouldn’t hear.

“Nothing,” I said. Guilt went through me as I considered how my actions must look to Chase, not to mention our clients.

I needed to get it together. Even if Bomber signed the contract, he could still can our asses if we couldn’t live up to the image we’d sold him on.

Bomber pushed the papers away, seemingly too bored to read through them as thoroughly as his agent, because he went back to texting on his phone. I stared at his bruised hands.

“You box?” I suddenly blurted.

Bomber and his agent both looked up at me, and I could feel Chase’s eyes on me too.

“What?” Bomber asked.

“Your hands,” I said, motioning to his bruised knuckles with my chin. “Mine tend to look like that after I go a few rounds in the ring or when I’m spending some time on the bag,” I said casually.

Bomber studied his hands and I saw some unnamed emotion go through his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Bomber said easily as he sent me a smile. He waited until Chase and his agent were discussing something in the contract to shoot me a wink. His eyes held mine as he began toying with his pen, which he’d taken out at some point to sign the papers. If I hadn’t been reeling from the realization that we could very well be signing an abusive prick as our first big-name client, I would have laughed at the man’s attempt at seduction, since he was rubbing the pen like it was an important part of a lover’s body.

“It’s good,” Shirley said as she slid the papers to Bomber and he began signing them. I could feel Chase relaxing next to me, even as I was caught up in a quagmire of confusion. I’d spent the past two months looking forward to this moment because it represented a big, fat “fuck you” to all the people who’d believed I couldn’t do this.

That I couldn’t start something from nothing and make it a success in a world where failure was the norm.

But all I could think about was Bomber’s fucking knuckles and what kind of man I’d just agreed to represent. What kind of stories would I be spinning for this man? Would I be standing in front of a group of reporters telling a tale about an embattled NFL player being taken advantage of by others? Would there be some broken woman sitting in the shadows watching me lambast her on television for lying about all the things Bomber had supposedly done to her just so she could benefit from his fame?

The thought had bile rising up in my throat. It was a reality I’d known I’d have to deal with at some point, but now that it was here… now that I could see the bruised knuckles and remembered every time Ash had jumped when I’d first started touching him or when he’d heard that damn coffee shop door open and jerked his eyes to see who had walked through it…

“Thank you, Mr. Flynn… Bomber,” Chase said excitedly as he stood and reached across the table. The relief in his voice was palpable, and I forced myself to stand and say my goodbyes to Bomber and his agent. I was dimly aware of Chase clapping me on the back as he rattled off how awesome the whole thing had been and then he was leaving the room, probably to tell Tomás and the few other staff that we employed that we’d just signed Bomber Flynn.

I sat there in dull silence for a moment before I reached for my phone again. The sight of the blank screen made my throat tighten.

Something was wrong.

I knew it in my gut.

I was up and moving even as I dialed Ash’s number again. He didn’t answer and I didn’t leave a message. I had my head down to send him yet another text, so I didn’t see the body I slammed into.

“Whoa there.”

Large hands came up to circle my upper arms, and I felt a wave of revulsion go through me since I instinctively knew whose hands they were.

“Bomber,” I murmured. “What can I do for you?” I asked as I tried to put some space between us.