The Reckless Secret, Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire In Love BBW Romance) (14 page)

W
orking
a double shift had its downsides, but the worst by far was not having time to get a proper dinner. Maggie was definitely not someone who could go hours without food, so she grabbed the thirty minutes between shifts and headed down to the cafeteria, determined to inhale a sandwich at least.

She met Ashley there, who’d taken up residence in the corner, slumped over the table with the world’s largest coffee clasped between both hands.

“These night shifts are killing me,” she groaned, before sitting up and scrubbing a hand over her bare face. “I just can’t sleep during the day no matter how tired I am.”

“What time are you on till?”

“Eight A.M.”

Maggie checked her watch and winced. It was only seven P.M. now—Ashley had a whole thirteen hours before she could collapse back in bed. And then she’d lie there unable to sleep, like she’d probably done all of today, before rolling into work now with enough coffee to power a regular person for a week.

“I can cover you,” Maggie said, “if you want to skip tonight.”

Ashley responded through a yawn. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve only got two more and then I’m back on days. How are you doing?” she added, running a fingertip over a watery eye and gazing at Maggie. “Declan treating you good?”

Smiling, Maggie told her all about their little break these past couple days, leaving no detail private. Ashley raised a hand to stop her, a grimace twisting her lovely face.

“Stop, I’m too single for this,” she said, looking queasy. “I swear, between you and Cami—”

“Let me set you up. I bet I can find a man or two willing to take a chance.”

Ashley snorted. “I’d rather die alone, surrounded by cats. But thanks,” she added dryly, getting to her feet. “Nice to know you also think I’m a hopeless case.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Hush,” said Ashley. “Drink this coffee. I’m gonna vibrate into the next dimension if I have any more.”

Sadly, Maggie didn’t have time to sit and leisurely drink Ashley’s secondhand, rapidly cooling coffee. Twenty minutes of her thirty-minute break had already gone, and she hadn’t yet even opened her sandwich packet. Sighing, she stood and wandered off in Ashley’s wake, the two of them heading in different directions upstairs as Ashley went off to get changed into her uniform, and Maggie took her sandwich and cold coffee to the break room.

She’s only made it partway through one half of her sandwich when the door opened and Ronald entered, making her freeze mid-chew, her whole body snapping taut with wary alertness. She hadn’t seen him since the incident in the parking lot earlier in the week, and she had no idea how he’d react now.

But rather than bring up the incident, he smiled sort of sharply and gestured at the ancient coffee machine. “Just getting some fuel.”

“Okay…” she said around her mouthful, and then swallowed it down thickly. The room felt charged, the air crackling, Ronald’s every step and every breath as he approached the coffee machine deafening in the thick silence.

He glanced down at her as he switched on the machine, and then at her half-eaten sandwich.

“Do you really think that was the best choice?” he asked her, and then sniffed with apparent disinterest and turned back to the coffee machine.

Glancing at her sandwich in confusion, she said, quite eloquently, “What?”

“I just mean, you know, with your weight problem and all.” He said
weight problem
delicately, like it was a sensitive subject, and he was making a mockery out of not wanting to offend her.

Maggie cleared her throat, trying to ignore the white noise filling her ears. “My weight problem?”

“Yes,” he said casually. “You really shouldn’t eat bread, or…” He squinted at her sandwich. “Is that mayonnaise?”

“Yep.” She flopped the sandwich down onto the paper and brushed off her hands. “Tell me more about my weight problem, Ronald,” she said, standing up. “I’d really love to know your opinion on it.”

“Hey, don’t get angry.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just being a doctor here. You do know I’m a doctor, don’t you?”

“Of course, I know.” What kind of question was that?

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for getting confused—you do get paid more than me right now, after all.” He snorted, reached for a coffee mug on the shelf. “A nurse earning more than a doctor,” he added in a mutter, his voice dripping with bitterness.

“You’re a resident,” she pointed out.

His response spilled out of him like he’d been bottling it up for a long time. “Doesn’t matter,” he snarled, turning to stare at her again, his face darkening with that same dangerous glint he’d worn the other evening. Maggie’s stomach swooped. “You’re a nurse and you’re a woman and now you’re a
thief
. In what
universe
does that entitle you to more money than me?” He prowled closer, his jaw clenching in random anger, and Maggie could only back up, not make any sudden movements—get to the door before he had chance to twist his rage back on her again.

This man was shockingly unstable, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before—that he’d managed to hide it so well when they dated, right up until the end, when his views on women in the workplace started coming to the surface and setting off alarm bells.

“And you’re a goddamn
mess
,” he continued, furious with her, completely unfathomably. “You won’t get in shape and you drink too much coffee and as for how you conduct yourself with men—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped at him, forgetting her fear for the moment. She hit the wall behind and started feeling for the door, keeping him firmly in her sights.

“You’re a whore,” he said bluntly, scathingly. And then suddenly he was too close; she could smell his breath on her face, the heat of his body. For a heart-stopping instant, she was paralyzed. “There’s only one way to treat a whore.”

“Ronald, think about what you’re doing—”

He reached for her, hand outstretched. She batted him away. Undeterred, he tried to grab her arms, and she shoved his chest. When she turned to get away, he pushed her flat against the wall, forcing the breath out of her lungs as he pressed in close behind. Then he murmured, “There’s no one here to save you this time,” and slithered a hand around her waist, beneath the hem of her shirt.

At the first brush of his touch, she sucked the air back into her lungs and flung her head backwards, making contact with Ronald’s face, a sickening
crunch
reverberating around the room, joined immediately by Ronald’s cry.

When she turned, she found him hunched over, holding his face, blood gushing through his fingers as he whimpered.

She didn’t pause for his retaliation. Racing out of the room with her heart in her throat, she sprinted her way down the corridor, away from the break room, desperately trying to keep a lid on her emotions as she rounded the corner and ran smack into Ashley.

“Woah—hey! What—”

“I have to go,” Maggie gasped. “I can’t explain but I—I need you to cover for me with Stevens—”

“Okay.” Ashley didn’t pose a question, a demand for an explanation. Her eyes were deep with concern and she nodded. “I’ll call you tonight,” she said, the only indication that she didn’t plan on letting Maggie keep silent about it. “Go.”

Maggie went, didn’t even stop to get changed. Just made sure her car keys were in her pocket and booked it out of there. A few minutes later, she found herself pulling up outside Declan’s building without any awareness of having made the decision to go there.

His face lit up with total surprise when he opened the door to find her standing there.

“I thought I wasn’t seeing you until tomor—”

She rushed forward and buried herself in his chest, clinging on to the front of his shirt and squeezing her eyes shut.
Just hold me,
she thought, unable to speak, and somehow he understood her, because his arms came up to envelope her in safety and, for the first time since she’d felt Ronald’s touch against the bare skin beneath her shirt, the steel band around her chest eased and she drew in a calm breath.

M
inutes later
, rubbing her back, Declan murmured, “What happened?” in a voice full of compassion.

Maggie sniffed and pulled back a little. “Nothing.”

“Maggie.”

Declan’s tone had switched from compassion to intolerance in the space of one heartbeat, as if he’d anticipated her attempts at keeping quiet. But it appeared he wasn’t going to stand for her brushing him off, not when she’d flung herself at him so emotionally.

Truth was, after Ronald in the break room, she’d just wanted to go somewhere she felt safe. And there was nowhere safer to her than Declan’s arms. She would have to accept it at some point—she loved him, and she needed him. No amount of denial could squash down the swelling of her heart.

And she couldn’t lie to him, either. Not when he looked at her so intently, so full of concern.

“It’s Ronald,” she mumbled, and predictably, his whole body stiffened, his arms around her tightening, his eye glinting in the low light of his expensive lamps.

“What about him?” It was remarkable, really, how he could speak through such clenched teeth.

With a shuddery sigh, Maggie uttered the one thought that had raced around her brain the entire journey over here. “He’s the one framing me for the drugs.”

It was all so clear to her now, because who else could it be? Dr. Stevens’ investigation had stalled—and if it had been him, surely he would’ve planted more evidence to move things along?

No one else at the hospital was bothered by her.

She
certainly wasn’t taking the drugs.

So who did that leave? Ronald Mitchell, a man she’d mostly felt sorry for all this time, convinced he was inherently good, if massively misguided in his views on women. He’d never treated her badly during their brief relationship. Their dates were enjoyable, the conversations sparkling. Even their intimate moments, when they eventually began, felt warm and inviting. He was the perfect doctor boyfriend every mother wanted for her daughter.

Until things started feeling a little bit too serious, and he began making noises about her quitting her job. “You’d have so much less to worry about,” he would tell her. “You can focus on our home, make more time for hobbies… You mentioned how much you wanted to learn how to cook more exotic dishes, didn’t you? Move in with me and hand in your notice at work, and I’ll look after you. Home is the best place for a woman…”

It didn’t take her long to say goodbye to
that
proposition, and while things certainly soured between them at work, he was never malicious.

Not until now, after she’d returned to work following her suspension. And the reason for it was startlingly clear.

His plan hadn’t worked. He wanted to punish her for walking away from him, but all she received was a week-long suspension before being allowed back to work. And the failure of it all had tripped that twisted part of his brain he’d managed to conceal until now. Seeing her back in her uniform, defiantly going against everything he wanted, had made him crazy.

He’d shown his hand.

Declan stared at her, his face washed off all emotion. Suddenly he was impossible to read. “He’s what?” he said with an odd, indecipherable note to his voice.

Maggie nodded. “I’m sure of it.” Then she sighed again and pulled out of his hold, buried a hand in her hair. “I’ll have to call Detective Sanders,” she added, feeling very strange. Part of her was still reeling from the event in the break room; and yet, she felt weirdly light. As if the black clouds had cleared, and suddenly everything was brighter.

“I’ll do it now before I lose my nerve,” she muttered, mostly to herself, pulling her phone from her pocket.

Declan’s hand landed on hers, stalling her. “Uh,” he said, blinking an odd look out of his eyes. She frowned at him. “Just breathe for a minute. Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me—”

“I have to do it, Declan,” she said, and she couldn’t work out why he was so hesitant. Shouldn’t he be glad to know she had found the guy responsible? “I’ve got to at least report him for the attack. I mean, how many more times am I gonna let it happen before I—”

It was like a crack of lightning flashed through his eyes, and his hand tightened on hers, almost making her drop the phone.

“What?”

Instantly, she realized her mistake. She’d never intended on telling Declan what had happened today, knew how much it would rile him up—but she’d let it slip now, the fact that there’d been more than one occasion, and she winced.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, but he raised a hand to halt her.

Very precisely, the words chipping out of him, he said, “What did he do, Maggie?”

With apprehension swirling in her gut, Maggie told him, briefly and without much detail. She left out the part about how he’d touched the bare skin of her waist, convinced it would be the one detail to turn Declan into a murderer. Instead she focused on how he’d insulted her weight, and then her character, and ended up getting a little forceful as she’d tried to leave.

“Because he’s furious,” she said, as Declan stood stoically still, jaw tighter than a vice. “His plan failed and now he’s lashing out at me. Do you see it?” She so desperately needed him to see it, if only to distract him from the red flood of rage she knew was currently rushing through his mind.

Declan left her words lingering in the air, and then said in the darkest voice she’d ever heard from him, “Where is he now?”

“No.” She put her hands on his chest, gripped his shirt a little. “No, you’re not going to do that. Look at me.”

He did, but with unseeing eyes.

“Declan. I’m fine. Okay? He hasn’t hurt me. In fact, he’s
freed
me. Don’t you understand that?” She tugged on his shirt. “This is a good thing.”

His throat rolled with a very thick swallow, and it was painfully clear how hard he was working to push through his murderous thoughts and find the thread of her logic. “Don’t call Sanders yet,” he said tightly. He reached up and took hold of her hands on his chest. His own hands were shaking. “Let’s sleep on it, get your thoughts together. And then tomorrow we’ll go to the station; I’ll be there as your lawyer.”

She couldn’t help but think there was a lot more to his suggestion than he was letting on, but right now she was so relieved that she’d managed to pull him back from the brink of violence towards Ronald that she was willing to go along with it. Either way, it didn’t matter. Tomorrow this would all be over.

The only thing putting the slightest dent in her certainty was the troubled look in Declan’s eyes.

S
he awoke
with a throat dryer than the Sahara and edged out of the bed, careful not to jostle it too much and disturb Declan. He looked completely passed out, even snoring a little, mouth hanging open and arms flinging above his head, completely at ease in his deep sleep. She couldn’t help but smile, forgetting her worries for a moment and taking the time to look at him, just look, and appreciate how the sight of him made her feel. Warm, protected…in love.

In the dead of night, with silence all around her, it was easy to think of love and not freak out. It was like she was surrounded by a dreamlike little bubble, that her thoughts could remain abstract, everything a little hazy and unreal. She could be in love with Declan Archibald at three in the morning while he slept. It was safe.

She tiptoed to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, standing silently against the counter and drinking her fill, quite at peace with the world. It was like a small weight had been lifted off her shoulders—the nightmare not over yet, but she had a lead now, something she could go on to get this all over with. Ronald Mitchell would not be ruining her life for much longer.

Satisfied, she put the glass in the sink and headed towards the bedroom, pausing when she saw a flash of light coming from somewhere in the living room. It turned out to be Declan’s phone, left on the coffee table, and it was flashing a voice mail message. She didn’t recognize the number—somewhere international, probably a client of his.

But she did recognize the name attached to the text message beneath it, one that had arrived early in the evening. It remained unread, because Declan had spent the evening in bed with Maggie. Made love to Maggie while
Trixie Lane
sent him a text message that couldn’t be any clearer if a neon light appeared in the room, blaring “Declan’s cheating on you!”

The message highlighted on the screen. There for her to see without pressing a single button, was like a sledgehammer to the chest:

And just like that, in the space of a phone screen at three in the morning, Maggie’s whole world tipped up beneath her feet.