10 Surviving a Demon Attack

Bailey bit her tongue as she strained against Chase's grip around her waist. This guy had a lot of gall to do something like this in his office, especially to her. She wasn't some scared intern who probably needed the job more than she needed her pride.

The heat of embarrassment that colored her checks coalesced into a burning rage that threatened to overwhelm her good sense. Bailey fought to press it down into that deep dark hole within her psyche where she suppressed so many emotions, only that hole was filled to capacity.

With nowhere to go, the rage strengthened her resolve to maintain self-preservation, and she stomped down with one spiked high heel on the man's foot. She gave it a good twist as Chase cried out and jerked her back against his chest. Which worked well for her because she could jab one elbow into his ribs simultaneously head butting him. Bailey would be happy if the head butt hurt him nearly as much as it hurt her.

Chase pushed her out of his lap with a curse and cradled his nose in his palms. "You're crazy, woman."

Bailey landed on her butt on the floor at his feet. Her tail bone ached, but at least she was free. Chase still cursing behind her, she scrambled to her feet and rushed for the door.

Flinging the door open, she stepped into the arms of Ren Wei with a grunt. What was with these guys and their hard-as-nails bodies? For once, she saw the benefit of fluffy men.

"Don't let her go," Chase yelled.

At the same time, Bailey demanded, "Let me go!"

Ren closed his arms around her and walked her backward into the room, closing the door behind him.

When she tried the fight him, he twisted her around into an arm lock and walked her to the couch, where he pushed her onto it. "Be still. Sir, are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Chase was still speaking at bellow volume. "Get me a towel before I bleed out."

"What about her?" Ren loomed between Bailey and the door.

With a blood-soaked hand, Chase grabbed Bailey's wrist even as he leaned his head against the backrest. "I've got her. Go. I like this suit. If its blood stained, it's ruined. This witch will be making a personal trip to Italy to buy me another."

The blood on Chase's hand seeped into Bailey's suit sleeve. "What about my suit?"

Chase pierced her with a killing glare. "Off the rack? Who cares?"

Ren returned with a wet towel and helped Chase situate it against his bleeding nose while Bailey struggled to free herself, preferably without more violence, but it wasn't out of the question. The odds were against her with the two men there now instead of one, however, if she could surprise them enough.

To that end, she let out an eardrum-piercing scream that was cut short when Ren's knee landed on the couch next to her, and he clamped a hand over her mouth. Bailey struggled against him and found herself pinned under Ren with her back against Chase. If she found either of these men the least bit sexy, the situation may have been the beginnings of an erotic fantasy. Instead, panic began to sit in.

"For Pete's sake, stop it," Ren demanded. "No one's going to hurt you. Just get a grip."

It didn't feel like no one would hurt her. The hand over her mouth and the chest pressed against hers made it hard to breathe. The hand around her wrist cut off her circulation. Never before had Bailey felt so helpless.

Chase must have seen the fear in her face. His grip on her wrist loosened. "Ren, let her up."

As if she were a dangerous animal, Ren extracted himself from the equation slowly, and Bailey could breathe. She closed her eyes and relaxed into deep breathing until the panic subsided.

She moved away from Chase and straightened her clothes. They were all adults in a professional setting. How had things gotten so out of control? Why was she not surprised that no one from the outer office had burst in at the sound of her screaming? It made her wonder if screaming in the CEO's office was normal. Was it possible that Chase was even a bigger rogue than that jerk-face Marcus Reyes?

"I'm not going to hurt you," Chase said from behind the towel pressed to his nose. "Let me take care of my nose, and we'll talk this out. Can you give me that?"

Bailey nodded, aware that Ren had remained between her and the door, his expression set on stubborn and his arms crossed over his heaving chest. If he disliked her before, Bailey could only imagine he hated her now.

The room went silent except for their breathing until Chase deemed the nosebleed under control. He went to his private bathroom to clean up, leaving Bailey with Ren.

"Do I want to know what happened here?" Ren asked.

"No."

"Should I call the police?"

"He laid hands on me first, so go for it."

"I'm sure he had good reason."

"That is a matter of opinion."

Chase returned and sat behind the desk. He straightened his tie. "Did you bring the pregnancy test?"

"I'm still not taking it."

"Ms. Gallup, be reasonable. Take the test, and then you can leave. Don't take the test, and this day will drag on for an eternity."

"I could have the company doctor administer a blood test," Ren suggested.

"You can't force me to give blood."

"Ren, please bring the employment contract in. Show Ms. Gallup where random drug tests can be administered at any time."

Bailey rolled her eyes, suddenly very tired. Chase was right. This day would never end, especially if she had to stay in this room with this infuriating bully of a man. But even if she did give in and take the test, she had faith Judy would know everything by the time Bailey arrived home. Then Judy would continue beating up on her where Chase left off.

Maybe she wouldn't go home. Maybe she would return to the convenience store and hang out with Jeb. He did such a great job of calming her before. He could do it again. She could hide at the back table, drink coffee, and forget about the last few days—or years.

"If it will get you off my back, give me the test." Bailey held out her hand, regretting giving in with all her heart.

The CEO's private bathroom was a marble and mirror masterpiece with chrome fixtures, a full shower, a sink with plenty of counter space, and a commode with a built-in bidet. A door on the opposite wall led to a walk-in closet.

Bailey sat on the toilet and read the instructions for the pregnancy test before urinating on the test stick. This was crazy. Never had she faced anything like this before. But what did it hurt to prove the gossip columns wrong other than the damage to her pride?

While waiting for the results of the test, Bailey wandered around Chase's closet, checking out his collection of suits and shirts, the case of designer watches, and the pristine condition of leather shoes. Childishly, she considered mixing up the perfectly aligned shoes so he would have to look for a matching pair the next time he changed.

She opened the drawers of t-shirts, socks, and underwear, all as neatly put away as the suits and shirts. Somehow, going through his personal items felt like apt revenge for having to urinate on demand.

She was thumbing through a drawer of loose photos and holiday cards when someone knocked on the bathroom door. Bailey was surprised to find personal mementos and wished she had more time to go through them. What a person kept as mementos said a lot about them as a person, and honestly, until finding that drawer, she saw Chase Meadows less as a man than as some sort of corporate legend who was not quite real.

Bailey quickly shut the drawer and looked around for the test stick, not sure where she had left it during her sojourn through Chase's things. A second knock sounded before she spotted it on top of the watch case. She grabbed it up and made her way out of the bathroom, not even bothering to look at the results. There was no point. No sex in months equated to absolutely no chance of pregnancy.

She opened the door to find Ren standing there. She walked by him and over to Chase's desk, tossing the stick onto a stack of papers. "There. Satisfied? Can I leave now?"

Chased looked from the stick to her and back again. He picked up the stick and looked at the results window, seemingly unperturbed to be handling something she had relieved herself on just minutes before.

With a nod, Chase dismissed her. He tossed the stick in the trash and returned to his paperwork as if she no longer existed.