The power is back on in the cabin and she takes Sunday to gather her senses.
Her Heat is still inevitable, an explosion that she knows will happen sooner rather than later.
Sheâll be able to take Heat leave, of course. She knows Doctor Porter would understand.
Her mind wanders, fueled by anxiety and distress.
What she did with Erik wasâ¦
Unforgiveable.
Unacceptable.
And yet, her heart still aches for him, now that she understands the reasoning behind his crime.
Would she do the same if she had the chance? If she could take revenge on the driver that hit her family, would she do something awful as well?
Sheâs not sure of the answer, and she spends the rest of the weekend gritting her teeth and fighting the nausea that threatens to overtake her.
To distract herself, she explores the dusty basement, taking note of the double locking mechanism from the inside. Besides an obscene amount of dust, she finds nothing of interest.
She wants to hide in the damn basement and die of shame.
Thereâs missed calls from Lita, but she canât bring herself to call her back. She sends her a message instead.
Iâm fine. Just busy. Will email you the reports next week.
And, of course, a text from Erik.
Iâm never letting you go.
Her heart beats wildly in her chest, and sheâs tempted to text back.
She turns off her phone and tries not to think of him, but itâs useless.
His scent lingers on her body, and itâs all she can do to not get under the covers and touch herself until she screams his name.
Sheâs losing her mind.
She walks in the rain, shivering until she reaches her car. Stepping inside, she tries to turn it on, praying that itâll work.
But it doesnât.
She screams, pounding her hands on the steering wheel until they ache.
* * *
Gerard picks her up Monday.
Heâs not pleased, to say the least.
âWhatâs your problem?â she finally snaps at him as they reach the parking lot. âTired from not doing your job?â
It was the wrong thing to say. His hand reaches out, lightning fast, and connects with her face. Her cheek slams into the passenger window, momentarily stunning her.
âYou stupid cunt,â he snarls, as she scrambles out of the passenger door, almost falling on her face.
âWhat is wrong with you?â she shrieks, covering her cheek with her hand, her face burning. âDonât you ever touch me!â
âYou almost made me lose my job! You ratted on me, you bitch!â
He takes a step closer, and she takes one back, her feet sliding on the icy concrete.
âRatted on you?!â she repeats. âWhat are you talking about?â
âFifty thousand isnât worth shit! You told Porter I was harassing you?â
None of his words make sense, and she takes another step back. âFifty thousand? What?â
âAw, fuck it!â He shouts, and sheâs never been so confused in her life. âJust donât fucking tell him, okay?â
The man is losing it in front of her, and it takes a moment to understand what heâs referring to.
âFifty thousandâ¦dollars? He paid you?â
Sheâs going to throw up.
Horror creeps up her spine.
He paid off Gerard to get close to you.
âLook, look,â and suddenly heâs panicked, his face pale. âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have hit you. Please donât tell him? God, I fucked up!â His face is red from screaming and his eyes are wild with fear.
âErik paid you?â she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
He shakes his head. âNo. No. Iâm done.â
Her head spins, her cheek burns, and nothing makes sense.
She runs into the building, unsure of what to do.
But she knows she needs to speak with Erik immediately.