I nodded.
Lucas reached down and picked up my arm, his thumb running along the faint white scar that marked it. “And what was this?”
Just the reminder brought back the memories of the gut-twisting pain. “He broke my arm because a shirt I’d ironed wasn’t up to his standards. Compound fracture. The skin split way further than you would’ve thought.”
“Jesus Christ, Yve. Why isn’t he dead?” His voice was low and serious.
Because I didn’t own a gun to protect myself at the time didn’t seem like an awesome answer, although it was the truth.
“I don’t know. Not my call.”
“He deserves to be.”
“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling no remorse for the sentiment.
“And you won’t give me his name?”
I shook my head.
“And you realize I could get it with almost no effort.”
I met his gaze and held it. “Please don’t. Just leave it be.”
“I don’t think you understand what kind of man I am. Because it’s not the kind who can let a piece of trash like him keep breathing while you live in fear.”
“You sound like some kind of street hood who offs people who get on your bad side.”
When he didn’t smile, laugh, or even reply, I didn’t know what to say.
A few heartbeats later, he said again, “Just give me a name.”
“Please leave it be. It’s over now.”
“I beg to differ. You’re homeless. Even if you won’t admit it, you believe that explosion was meant for you.”
Bile rose in my throat when he put it so plainly. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced it down. I was done thinking about this for now.
“Shit, Yve. Just let me—”
I opened my eyes and met his. “Can we just drop it for now? I . . . I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Dirty Dog should already have been open for an hour. I latched on to something I could control rather than this threat I wasn’t able to wrap my arms around—or the shifting sands that were my feelings about Lucas Titan. “You need to get back to work, and so do I.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going to work. Jerome should be there by now. He’ll talk to your temp and make sure the shop runs smoothly.”
Just when I thought the man’s overbearing nature wasn’t as bad as I’d made it out to be, he proved me wrong. Dirty Dog was my domain.
“Not necessary. I’ll be ready in five minutes. I’ll find something there to change into.”
Lucas stood, and like a brick wall, he blocked my path. “No.”
I raised an eyebrow. I really didn’t like the word no, especially not when work would give me the lifeline of distraction I needed. “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same. I’m not helpless. I’ve had my cry, and nothing I do now is going to change what happened. All I can do is move forward and make sure Dirty Dog continues to kick ass so I can get someone to loan me the money to buy the place.”
Latching onto another subject far removed from the explosion, I stared pointedly in Lucas’s direction. “And you’re not going to pull any strings to help me. I don’t care if you’re on the board of that fund. You’re going to hand my file back over and take yourself out of all the discussions. You can’t be impartial, and that’s not fair.”
I expected him to scowl or tell me I was being ridiculous. But instead he just laughed, something he did rarely enough that I had to stop and enjoy the unique sound—a sexy-as-hell husky, deep chuckle.
When he stopped, a mocking smile played on his lips. “What makes you think anything that happens in the business world, or life for that matter, is impartial and fair? People get ahead based on who they know, not how good they are. Do you know how many applications the fund gets a month? Hundreds. You know how many grants it gives? A handful. You deserve one of them, and I’m not saying that just because I’m fucking you. I’m saying it because you’re damn good at running the place. You’ve got the owner mentality, and now you need the capital.”
“I know that,” I said, inwardly glowing at his compliment. “But it doesn’t mean I want any favors.”
Lucas shook his head, and I decided now was an ideal time to end this conversation by walking out the door. I reached the threshold before his hand wrapped around my arm.
“You’re still not going to work.”
I swung around. My feelings toward him might be confusing as hell, but one thing I knew for sure—I needed him to respect me.
“You really need to stop ordering me around. I need to be busy. I’m not going to sit around here all day and relive the whole thing. I’ll—” I squeezed my eyes shut, shocked when my voice started to break.
Lucas’s chest pressed to mine. Safety. Strength. I felt both as soon as he wrapped his arms around me.
“That’s why we’re not going to sit around here. We’re going out.”