Our Broken Pieces

Chapter 36

Gage~

The entire way over, I told myself that I had legitimate business at CI. We had several joint projects together, and even if we didn't, Lorcan was my best friend, so it was entirely reasonable to stop by like I'd had so many other times before.

It was a lie, of course.

Mystic had insisted on coming to work again after only a few hours of sleep, and I could admit that I was still disturbed by her non-answer about getting married. After I fucked her on the barstool, our snacks forgotten, I had carried her back into the bedroom where I hadn't let up until she passed out, used and covered in my filth. This morning's shower had been a quick fuck because, while I'd known that she needed to shower for work, I wanted her pussy to still smell like me, the sick fuck that I was.

Since the receptionist knew who I was, she wasted no time in directing me towards Mystic's office, but when I got there, the lights were off, and things looked quiet. I glanced at my watch, then saw that it was too early for lunch.

I pulled my phone out to call her when Reagan Contreras' voice hit my ears. "Mr. Evans," she sing-songed. "How have you been?"

I only knew Reagan professionally, but she'd been at CI long enough and had worked on a couple of joint projects of ours, so we'd chatted before. "Ms. Contreras," I acknowledged.

She smiled. "I've told you before, Mr. Evans. Please, feel free to call me Reagan."

Nah. Don't think so.

While I didn't have an issue with the woman, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she wanted to bounce on Lorcan's dick. Anytime he was near, she went into full seductress mode, and I didn't need to get pulled into that bullshit, even if Lorcan didn't fuck his employees. Ever.

Before I could comment, she continued, "Are you looking for Mystic?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," I replied. "She's working on a joint project with one of my project assistants, David Booker."

Reagan tittered-legit tittered-and I wondered how Lorcan could stand it. "Oh, yeah...them two," she murmured, grinning like a snake.

I arched a brow. "Them two?"

She slapped a hand in the air, as if the topic were of no consequence. "Yeah," she giggled, annoying the shit out of me. "I think there's love in the air."

My entire body froze with her implication. My blood ran cold, and my mind was saying that there was no way that Reagan just said what she'd said. "What?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no, no," she stammered. "I'm sure the project will come off perfectly, Mr. Evans. It's just..."

"It's just what?" Did this woman know that I had no problem fucking killing her?

"Well...I mean..." She looked around to ensure that no one else could hear before she continued. "I...well, I almost went to Mr. Cavanaugh to discuss their professionalism. It was like an instant attraction or something, I think. From day one, they've been giddy and all over each other. I just...well...you know, right?"

A part of me told me that she was lying, but to what end? I knew that she was pissed about being demoted, and that she didn't like Mystic, but Reagan didn't know about our relationship. What would she get out of telling me that Mystic was messing around with David? Was she trying to sabotage her professionally or was she telling the truth? Reagan had to know that it wouldn't end well for her if it came out that she was lying and besmirching Mystic and David's professional reputations.

Suddenly, from that dark place where doubt and resentment still lingered, a voice echoed, reminding me that Mystic hadn't jumped at the chance to marry me last night. Instead, she had voiced her concerns and doubts, trying to buy some time.

"Do you know where they are now?"

Reagan's smile was slick with insinuation. "They never work in her office when he stops by," she informed me. "They have a small, cozy, private room that's assigned for just them."

It took everything in me not to show every ounce of rage that I was feeling. "Where is it?"

"I can walk you," she offered, and I was too enraged to decline. At the moment, getting to Mystic was more important than distancing myself from Reagan Contreras.

She led me down a corridor of small meeting rooms that were nowhere near the size of CI's conference rooms until we stopped in front of a door that was decorated with a placard that read 'Baltic Room'.

As soon as we stopped, Reagan turned towards me. "Here we are," she said. "I'd knock first if I were you." She threw me a wink, then walked away as I stood there wondering what the fuck.

I also didn't knock.

When I walked in, I saw Mystic sitting next to David at a small utility table, and they were looking over blueprints of some sort. The sound of the door opening had both of them turning my way.

David smiled, but Mystic looked confused. "Ga-Mr. Evans?"

I shut the door behind me, then walked deeper into the room. David was oblivious to the tension, but Mystic wasn't. "Oh, hey, there, Mr. Evans," he said, greeting me.

Mystic was driving me crazy, and that was the only explanation for what I did next. "You want to tell me why my girlfriend was practically sitting on your lap when I walked in?" I snapped.

David's eyes widened in shock while Mystic let out a horrified gasp. "Gage."

I shot my gaze her way. "What?"

"Are you insane?" she screeched.

David jumped up from his chair, then stepped away from her. "Uh, Mr. Evans...I, uhm, that's not what-"

"Have you lost your mind?" Mystic hissed as she stood up next.

"Yes!" I roared. "Now tell me why the fuck you're all cozied up with him in a private fucking room!"

Mystic's eyes rounded to the size of platters. "I'm not cozied up with him. These rooms are assigned to teams and project groups, Gage. They're larger and more comfortable than the offices."

"You mean more private," I accused. "Of course, I could see how it would be uncomfortable to have him in your office with everyone working right outside your office door."

"Mr. Evans, you have this all wrong," David injected. "Mystic and I-"

"Mystic? Not Ms. Anderson?" I asked like a lunatic.

He paled as Mystic made her way around the table to stand in front of me. "Stop it!" she yelled. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but David and I are colleagues on a project only. You have no right to come in here an-"

"No right?!" I thundered in her face. "I have every right to do whatever the fuck I want when it comes to you!"

"Gage, this is my workplace," she argued. "You can't come in here acting as if you own the place and causing a scene."

Ignoring her, I addressed David. "David, if you know what's good for you, you'll walk out of this room right the fuck now."

"You can't-"

"I can," I bit out, interrupting her. "I'm his fucking boss, Mystic. So, make no mistake. I can tell him what the fuck to do."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"No," I denied. "Since you haven't agreed to marry me yet, I'm just making sure you're not spreading your legs for anyone else but me."

The slap echoed loudly throughout the small room.

"You bastard," she seethed, and we both ignored the slamming of the door, announcing David's departure.

"Maybe," I conceded, my cheek throbbing like a sonofabitch. "But you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you make a fool of me by hanging all over another man."

Mystic took a step back, shock all over her pretty face. "Are you kidding me?"

"It's all Reagan Contreras could talk about," I told her. "How you guys can't keep your hands off each other."

Her face went from shock to a flash of pain before she schooled her features, but it was the emptiness in her dark brown eyes that told me how I was in trouble.