wholly inappropriate.
“No. I’m not hit. And no, I’m not okay,” she breathed, unable to find air with him on top of her. Still, she couldn’t stop clutching his shirt. She gripped at composure, knowing she was about to lose every last vestige of calm she had, so she shut her eyes tightly, turning her head to the side. Krista took a deep breath, still clinging to Ryan, and opened her eyes.
When she saw her coffee cup spilled on its side—all her sweet warmth in a puddle next to it—and the stuffing of the chair she’d been sitting in spilling out a hole in the back of it, her walls crumbled and tears started to stream out of the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Finally releasing Ryan, her hands clenched into fists and she beat the floor on either side of her. Krista was still pinned by Eye Candy—Ryan—whose face was inches from hers, staring at her with an unreadable expression on it.
“Hang on a sec. Let’s get everything cleared and you can get up.” Ryan was watching her, his blue eyes a dark cobalt color, his pupils dilated, making them almost black. The look warmed her again, and she felt the stirrings of inappropriateness again, but she closed her eyes against it all, squeezing tears out the corners. Tears were something tangible, something she could focus on.
Simon’s voice came from somewhere nearby. “I’ll be sending the bastards a bill for a new God-damned window. Motherfuckers.”
“Can you crawl to the door, Sugar?” He was helping her roll over, their moment apparently forgotten, if it had ever even been there for him.
She nodded, tears blurring her vision, scurrying to comply before someone put a bullet in her head. She forced blankness into her head, knowing if she focused on what had just happened, she’d lose it. As she crawled to the door on all fours, she could feel Ryan’s hand at her waist, an unexpected source of comfort. Stinging pain kissed her knees as she crawled over broken glass pieces, but she ignored it. Krista still didn’t know what was going on, but she got the impression Ryan wasn’t going to hurt her. The sudden, inexplicable trust she placed in him was such an about-face from what she’d thought just a few minutes ago, her head spun.
In the hallway outside the office, she sat and leaned against the wall.
“You okay?” Ryan was watching her intently, probably looking for signs she was losing it, which she was. Tears still tracked out of her eyes, but she didn’t care. She was beyond all semblance of control. People were trying to kill her.
Shaking her head, she watched as his eyes roamed her body.
“Are you hurt somewhere?” he hissed as his gaze landed on her knees. Tracks of blood ran down her legs, but she felt nothing.
She continued to shake her head, words gone.
“Okay, sit tight. Don’t move, okay?”
Simon started barking orders. “Quinten, see if you can find where the nest is. Evan, go and check Ryan’s truck and bring it around back. He’s got to get her out of here.” In a daze, Krista watched Ryan toss a smallish, well-built, dark-haired man his keys, which he caught one handed before taking off into the stairwell. To Ryan, he said, “Take her to your place. It’s secluded and off the grid enough she should be safe there. I’m not about to hand her over to these fuckers without knowing what the hell is going on. I’ll call later to check in.”
Ryan stood and held his hand out to Krista, who took it gratefully. Standing on shaky legs, she followed him to the elevator, gripping his warm hand tightly. His grip on hers was calming her immensely, and she was reluctant to let go. The physical contact was making her feel safe and protected. Her prior belief that he was a bad guy filled her with guilt. She wished she’d made things easier for him.
In the elevator, as soon as the doors closed, the wind came rushing out of Krista in a whooshing breath. Her knees buckled in the confines of the plush box and
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