24. Hunter

Chapter 24

Hunter

then

There was no use arguing with the man. In the end, I slept for over twenty-four hours.

Now, I can't sleep any longer. It's not even dawn, but I'm up and wandering the penthouse aimlessly as Spence snoozes in the bedroom.

He occupies the whole top floor of the hotel. There's a full kitchen, multiple bathrooms, a spacious living area, and an amazing balcony with views of Hyde Park.

After drinking a glass of water and putzing around the kitchen, I find myself stepping into a room I haven't spent any time in at all: the office.

A stately, commanding desk with multiple monitors takes up the center of the space.

There's a sitting area off to one side, and one entire wall consists of freestanding bookshelves all lined up and filled, stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

I flick on a few lights, then walk over. It's impossible not to smile as I take in the titles. There are books about business and leadership. There's also a substantial historical section, as well as two entire shelves devoted to the classics.

I trace the spines of the classics. Many feature covers I've never seen, and I'm tempted to pull them out and give them closer inspection. When I remove a copy of Sense and Sensibility , my memory falters and snags on a deeply buried memory of another library I've tried so damn hard to forget.

The library at the cabin.

Greedy's mom's collection.

I hold the old book to my chest, then sink to my knees, overwhelmed with emotion and sick to my stomach all at the same time.

My mouth drops open in a soundless cry, my shoulders shuddering and my chest aching as I gasp for air. My every cell hurts. I don't remember how to breathe.

Flopping to a sitting position, I bring my knees to my chest, circle my arms around them, and bury my head.

I force air into my lungs, then out again, but there's no stopping the flood of memories.

Books and pages.

Smiles and kisses.

Minutes pass, or maybe hours, as I sit on the floor in front of the mammoth shelves, rocking back and forth with my arms wrapped around my knees.

When I finally exhaust myself, I tip my head back, taking in the shelves. From here, they're even more massive than I originally thought. They've got to be at least eight or ten feet tall.

They're lined up together, but they're not attached to each other. I doubt they're anchored to the wall.

How much force would it take to make them topple?

I don't need all of them to fall. One would be enough, or maybe two.

What angle would be best if I wanted them to properly crush me?

It would be awful to be conscious and trapped.

I don't want to feel it. I don't want to feel anything .

Yet, if I could get two of them to fall simultaneously, and I stretched out flat on the floor before they hit, they'd surely gain enough momentum to properly end me.

I unfurl my body, renewed energy zipping through my veins.

Crawling on hands and knees, I slip one arm between the two biggest shelves, then run my palm along the back.

I go slow. Searching. I have to be sure. I don't want to damage the walls.

Then I walk to the end of all the shelves and peer through the gap behind them. There are no anchors fixing them in place.

This could work.

I'll need a lot of strength to pull both shelves forward, then I'll have to act quickly to get on the floor for maximum impact. Getting the angle right is a must. There's no room for error or miscalculation.

Circling back to the front of the shelves, I lie on the floor. I spread my body out like a starfish, making sure my head and chest are both aligned for maximum impact.

I grip my fingertips into the plush carpet under my palms, then brush my arms back and forth as if I'm making a snow angel. By marking my position, I'll know exactly where I need to—

"Hunter."

Heart jolting, I bolt up to sitting. Spence is in the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the sight before him.

I'm dizzy. Empty. Confused. So damn sad.

He takes one step into the room, then another. "What are you doing?" he asks in a soft, hesitant tone.

What am I doing?

"I don't know," I breathe. I don't even have the strength to be embarrassed. It's all too much. It's never enough.

He approaches slowly and eventually kneels beside me, cupping my face in both hands. His eyes search mine.

"What do you need, love? "

I look up at the bookshelves above us and shudder. What the hell was I thinking? If Spence hadn't walked in the moment he did…

"I don't know," I repeat.

As a sob racks through me. I pull away from him and bury my face in my hands.

"I'm so tired."

Tired of being sad.

Tired of feeling like this.

"I didn't realize what I was doing," I admit. "But I think… it could have been bad if you hadn't found me."

Spence circles his arms around me, pulling me in to a gentle, tender hug. "You're safe."

"I'm not," I whimper.

I'm the threat. I'm the problem. If I'm the danger here, then how the hell am I supposed to protect myself?

"What do you need?" he asks again, pulling back and searching my face. He crosses his legs and settles in beside me. The move alone soothes me. He's here. I'm not alone.

Even so, I truly have no fucking clue how to answer him.

I don't know what I need. Shaking my head, I choke out a sob.

"I'm not okay. I think I should go back to bed."

Nodding, Spence stands. Instead of offering me a hand, he scoops me up into his arms. "It's okay if you're not okay," he tells me softly. "But you will be. Tell me you understand, Firecracker. You will be okay."

I don't have it in me to argue.

Though I'm not sure I believe him either.

I let my eyes flutter closed and slip into unconsciousness almost instantly.