I have a scotch in my hand. It’s my third. I should probably slow down. I don’t want to wake up with a hangover, but it’s hard not to drown my sorrow in alcohol when I feel like shit.I’m sitting in the art room I had put in for Julia, looking at the paintings she did when she was here, looking at the stool we were sitting on when we made love in this room. She’s been gone less than twenty-four hours, and I already miss her like hell.I look down at my phone. I sent her a text about an hour ago. “How are you?” is all it says, but I am hoping she will respond and let me know how it’s going. I have an associate located in the apartment next to hers so that, if Jeff gets violent, that person can intervene. Most of the time, that will be Stringer, but right now it’s someone else so that he could be home with his wife for a while. It will be a rotating assignment, one I’ve delegated to someone else. I trust all of my people to make sure that Julia is kept safe, but I want to talk to her my

I haven’t slept all night. Instead, I’ve tossed and turned, thinking only of Julia. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day. I have several important meetings, but I may have to reschedule them. I can’t think about work, accounts, personnel matters, anything except for my sweet Julia.I am in the backseat, staring aimlessly out the window as I make the long drive into work when my phone rings. I jump immediately because it is the special ringtone I have given to Julia. I fish my phone out of my pocket. “Hello?” I say, praying that it’s her and not Jeff.“Braxton?”The sound of her voice melts my insides. Even though she sounds like she might be crying, I am relieved to know that she is okay, that she has the capacity of calling me. Overnight, I’ve had all sorts of awful images in my mind. Despite my people being stationed right next door, I imagine her being beaten or killed, or Jeff tying her up so she can’t move, let alone call me. Now, to know that she is okay, at least e

Jeff comes into the bedroom with a look in his eyes that makes my blood run cold. He’s gripping his belt like he might just hit me with it. I know he has been drinking a lot. I thought he was just tipsy when he came home, but now, I’m pretty sure he’s drunk. He’s hit me before in all mental states from cold stone sober to nearly passed out drunk, so I know that doesn’t really matter, but as he stands there, glaring into the bedroom at me, I don’t know what to do. I wish I had the phone out of its hiding place so I could call Braxton.“What do you want, Jeff?” I’m not sure where the courage to speak to him comes from, but my voice is trembling as my words come out.“What do I want?” he asks, snapping the belt. “I want my wife to admit that she’s now my boss’s whore!” He is shouting by the end of the statement, stumbling forward toward the bed.I get up, my bare feet pounding on the floor as I take a few steps away from him, wondering if I can dodge around him and get outside of the bed

My phone rings, and it’s Stringer, letting me know that he hears a commotion from the apartment next door. He asks if he should go knock on the door, and of course I tell him he should do so. He hangs up while he goes to see what is going on. It’s the longest ten minutes of my life as I pace around my study, waiting to hear what’s going on.I decided not to go all the way back home. It’s too far from Julia. Instead, I’m staying in my apartment near work. I’ll stay here for as long as I need to until I’m sure that she’s safe. If she’s determined to stay with Jeff, I might just stay here indefinitely. I can’t stand the thought of being an hour away from her. I need to be nearby in case something happens. Now, it seems like something has happened, and Julia might be in trouble.My pacing stops and I stare out the window, waiting for Stringer to call. I know he’ll call me as soon as he can. I pray that Julia is all right. If that bastard Thompson hit her, I swear to God I’ll break his fac

At first, I only want Braxton to hold me in his strong arms and assure me that I am okay, that nothing has changed in the few days that we’ve been apart, that he still loves me and wants me. But the longer I linger in his embrace, the more I realize I want more from him.I want him.I nuzzle my face against his neck, and his grip around my shoulders increases. We are sitting on a couch in the living room of his apartment. His place, even this small one that isn’t actually his home, is large and well appointed. It makes the shitty little apartment I shared with Jeff look like a hovel. But my eyes are not on the room. They are on the man. I inhale deeply, wrapping his scent around my insides. I have missed the smell of him, the smell of a true man, the smell of someone who is strong, secure, and loves me.My lips peck against the sensitive skin of his neck, lightly at first, but then increasing as I am overcome with the emotions welling up inside of me. I can’t deny the fact that I want