My fingers dug into the cloth napkin on my lap. Even after all these months, it hurt to imagine him with someone else. I couldn't think about it, it made me sick.
And yet I couldn't bring myself to stop. Margaret's image appeared in my mind again. The cruel woman had shaped my life into something I barely recognized anymore. I'd spent years resenting her and more years resenting myself for what I'd done. But I needed to move on. Margaret was gone, and I deserved a new, brighter future without her in it.
"Oh god," Ross groaned in front of me, palming his suit pocket. "I think I forgot my wallet."
Great, I thought to myself. What a perfect ending to a perfect freaking day.
"That's fine," I replied coolly. I paid for our meal, resenting the whole date since I hadn't even gotten to pick what I ate. I rarely treated myself like this, despite the growing money in my bank account. I didn't want to spend carelessly.
Ross offered to walk me home and I reluctantly accepted, just because it was dark and I was worried, and certainly not because I wanted to invite him back upstairs. But judging by the shit-eating grin on his face when I said yes, that was exactly what he was expecting to happen. I groaned inwardly. I would let him down easy, despite the ungentlemanly way he'd handled our date.
As we walked, his endless tirade about himself continued. I don't know if he thought the date was going well—I certainly didn't. All I could think about was curling up in my bed and forgetting this date had ever happened. Of course, now I also had to worry about all my coworkers knowing I went out with Ross, which would be a nightmare I'd have to deal with the next day.
Suppressing a groan, I motioned to an apartment building. "This is mine."
"Great," he smirked, winking at me. "Let's go upstairs."
"Oh," I wrinkled my nose. "I'd actually like to get an early night."
"Oh come on," he laughed, leaning against the brick wall. "You're not even going to invite me upstairs after tonight?"
My patience was wearing thin, but I didn't want to be rude, so I just shrugged. "Sorry."
"You can't be serious." He furrowed his brows at me, obviously displeased. "You're really going to treat me like that? Are you telling me I wasted my Friday night on you?"
"I'm sorry," I repeated. "But let's recap tonight. You took me to my own workplace for dinner. You didn't ask me a single thing about myself. You 'forgot' your wallet. And now you're offended because I won't let you come in?"
He reddened, obviously stewing with anger. "Entitled fucking bitch."
"Yeah, thanks." I fought the urge to cry, even though my first instinct was to slap his face. "I'll see you at work, Ross."
"You're gonna walk away from this?" He blocked my path all of a sudden, and I recoiled from the smell of booze on his breath. I had noticed he'd drank most of the bottle of wine we'd had with dinner, but the stench made me think he'd drunk something before then, too. "I don't think so, bitch."
"I'm afraid that's not up to you," I muttered, trying to walk past him. But he kept blocking my way until I finally looked up, my eyes meeting his murky, enraged gaze. "Please let me go home, Ross."
"No fucking way," he snarled, droplets of spittle landing on my face from his open mouth. "You're not getting away that easily. I'm owed at least a kiss if nothing else."
"I don't owe you anything," I bit back. "Move, or I'm pushing you."
"You could try," he laughed nastily. "But I'm bigger and stronger. And you're not just going to leave me on the street with my dick hard, are you?"
Ignoring his words, I came through on my promise and attempted to push him away. But when I did, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me in close. His eyes looked manic and for the first time in the evening, I found myself getting scared.
"You always treat men like this, Amicia?" he barked at me. "I think it was about time someone taught you a lesson."
"Let go," I demanded, trying to pull my arm out of his grasp but failing. "I'm leaving, we're done here."
"We're done when I say we're done," he snarled. "Now give me a kiss, I've been waiting all fucking night..."
He attempted to kiss me, sloppy lips trying to find mine. Finally, I found my voice, shrieking loudly as his hands started roaming all over my unwilling body. "Let me go! Stop this! Get off!"
"Get your hands off her right the fuck now."
Both Ross and I froze when a third voice joined the chorus. I recognized that voice, and my eyes flitted behind Ross, my stomach sinking. It was him—Kai, Grayson's right hand man.