Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
45
Payton
Time has flown by.
Weeks of it.
We have fallen into a routine.
I’m back at school.
He’s back at work.
The days jet past us, and we are no closer to understanding the accident. Trent told me about Paul. That he planned to hurt me but didn’t get the chance. That he wasn’t the hit-and-run driver.
I’m starting to think maybe it was just an accident.
Not a crazy plot.
Just a hit-and-run.
Some maniac who decided to drive recklessly, right at me.
That’s what the cops think it is.
A drunk driver who almost killed me.
Trent seems to agree with them.
The one good thing that came out of all this is Trent. Now that I’m better and healed, I should probably leave, but I don’t want to, and he hasn’t asked—yet.
I’m not ready to go.
I’m torn whether or not I should even speak to him about it.
He walks in. I’m in his office, sitting behind his desk, working on an assignment. Not something he gave me. He told me to stop those after the accident.
The ass.
“Almost done?” he asks, peering over my shoulder at the bar graphs I’ve compiled into a PowerPoint.
“No. But I’ll finish it up later.” I save the file and exit, turning to face him. “What’s going on?”
Don’t let your past drive your insecurities. Trent is not Erin. He won’t turn on you. He is not your parents. He’ll be there when you wake tomorrow.
Still, my heart quickens as I wait for him to speak.
“Let’s go out to dinner,” he says.
“Okay.”
I stand from the chair to leave the room. He stops me with both his hands, grabs me on either side, and places a kiss on my lips. I barely kiss him back, my mind still moving at a million miles a minute.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, breaking through my thoughts.
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t seem like that.” His right eyebrow arches.
“I’m fine.”
“Now I know you’re not.” He takes his hand and places it under my jaw, tilting it up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Talk to me.”
“I was just thinking about the accident.”
“You’re safe, Payton.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You are.” His voice never wavers. He believes it, and I want to believe it too.
“Then if I’m safe. . . it’s time to call off the dogs.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Security. If I’m safe, I don’t need them to trail me.” I lift my brow. Challenging him. If he says no, it means I’m not safe.
“Fine.” He throws his hands up in defeat and I smile, throwing my arms around his neck and kiss him. Now, without the tail, maybe I’ll start to feel normal again.
“I do have a lot of work to do later,” I say, remembering that I’m still behind after my accident.
“Then let’s eat at home.” It comes out of his mouth casually. Like this is normal. Referring to his loft as our home.