My Terrifying Boss Caught Me On A Date — And He Refused To Let Me Leave
Part 2
Brian frantically dabbed at the spilled water with cheap paper napkins, his face etched with genuine concern.
I didn’t hear his reassurances over the frantic, uneven rhythm of my own heart.
My hands trembled violently under the table as I stared at the broad shoulders of Craig’s dark suit, completely out of place among the flannel and denim of the pub crowd.
He wasn’t glaring or making a scene.
His expression was entirely blank, cold, and utterly terrifying, the same look he wore when calculating exactly how to dismantle a problem.
Right now, the man sitting across from me was the problem.
I choked out an apology to Brian, my voice raspy and thin, claiming I had swallowed down the wrong pipe.
I scrambled out of the booth, my legs feeling like lead as I practically sprinted toward the dim red exit sign glowing above a heavy steel door.
I didn’t go to the restroom.
Shoving the push bar of the emergency exit with my shoulder, I stumbled out into the narrow alleyway.
The cold, wet air hit my flushed face like a physical slap.
I leaned heavily against the damp brick wall, dragging oxygen into my burning lungs while the dying halogen bulb flickered erratically.
The heavy steel door groaned open again, the sound scraping against the brick walls.
Craig stepped out into the alley, the heavy door clicking shut behind him to cut off the muffled noise of the pub.
He didn’t offer an excuse or try to gaslight me when I demanded to know why he was here.
He simply admitted he followed me, the unapologetic honesty knocking the breath out of me all over again.
He stepped closer, invading my space until the smell of rain, expensive bourbon, and dark male heat completely overpowered the stench of wet garbage.
Planting his large palm flat against the wet brick right next to my head, he boxed me in.
His voice dropped to a low, gravelly vibration that I felt in my chest, telling me I looked like I was attending a funeral.
I argued that Brian was a nice, normal man, fighting off the suffocating gravity of the predator standing in front of me.
He countered with brutal cruelty, pointing out that Brian didn’t see me and didn’t know what I truly was.
Defiance flared in my chest as I reminded him I was just the girl who cleaned up his messes, demanding he leave my one normal night alone.
He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, the heat radiating off his body overwhelming as he declared he was ending the date.
I pushed my hands against his chest, refusing his arrogant command and reminding him he only bought my time from seven to four.
He stepped back, putting two feet of cold, damp air between us, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
His voice dropped to a hoarse, jagged whisper as he warned me that if I went back inside and let Brian touch me again, he wouldn’t just sit at the bar and watch.
The threat was delivered with the calm, chilling certainty of a man who dealt in absolute destruction.
As I stood frozen in the freezing rain, staring at the dark, unraveling monster who had just ripped my world apart, I had a terrifying choice to make: do I go back inside to the safe man who doesn’t see me, or do I surrender to the dangerous one who refuses to let me go?
