Ginger Fox Part 3

"Damn it, Ginger!" I walk quickly, with no sense of direction, only wanting to get as far away as possible. "Since when do you get like this?" I chastise myself, feeling stupid for letting my emotions spiral so easily whenever Jonathan is within my line of sight.
I can't understand, let alone distinguish, what’s right or wrong. It’s a flood of emotions that hits me, shutting down my logical side and drastically reducing my ability to think clearly. This isn't healthy! It's not healthy for me at all! I’ve been making mistake after mistake ever since I agreed to that damn game! I rub my face with trembling, sweaty fingers, still sticky from the ice cream. My breathing becomes erratic, taking in large gulps of air as I try to walk quickly back to the mansion. I just keep moving, turning the corner at the next block, and glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the large man in his black suit. Jonathan is looking around, searching for me among the crowd. Clutching my purse, I break into a run. I blend into a group of tourists, hiding myself from him.



***



The white sports car parked at the mansion’s entrance has the driver's door wide open. I wrinkle my nose, shrug my shoulders, glance around to check my surroundings, and quicken my pace to enter the residence. I see Mr. Roy rounding the property, coming out of the garage. His chest puffs up as his eyes lock onto me. Roy is angry. His eyes, dark blue like dry ice, are icy and intense. I had no idea that being on the damn sidewalk where he was with another woman would trigger his anger. Damn it! I didn’t even know he was there.
“Fox!” His voice booms like thunder, commanding me.
“I wasn’t spying on you if that’s what you’re thinking…” I avert my eyes from his, praying I can reach the door before the angry man catches up to me. “I was just taking a walk after leaving the pharmacy and was already heading back to the mansion…”
He closes the distance with fast, determined steps. I rush toward the mansion’s front steps, reaching out to open the door, but I’m blocked by a sudden tug on my arm, my back slamming against the plaster column. His hand tightens around my chin, pushing it to the side, causing pain in my throat. I wince, still feeling his grip on my chin, and I glare at him. Jonathan no longer looks angry; his expression is blank, giving no clue about what’s going on in his mind, only his observant eyes studying the marks he’s made. My fingers reach up, trying to force his wrist away from my face.
“Why did you run, Ginger?” His gaze drops, fixating on my mouth. My heart screams inside me, along with my mind.
Because of jealousy!
“I had to come back,” I whisper weakly to Roy, releasing his wrist, giving up on trying to make him let go. “I didn’t want to interrupt…”
Whatever that moment was, my mind finishes the sentence internally, not daring to say it out loud.
I lower my gaze, fixing it on his tie to avoid looking into his eyes any longer.
“I need you to let go of my face.”
Jonathan doesn’t move, remaining silent as he trails his finger over the bruise on my neck. My ability to think clearly is fading rapidly. I need Roy to step back; my mental health demands that he stop touching me.
“Please…” My foot taps restlessly on the ground, almost begging him to let go.
“Are you hurt? Why did you go to the pharmacy?” His body shifts closer, eliminating any remaining space between us, analyzing the marks, and slowly sliding his fingers over the throbbing vein in my neck.
“Could you stop doing that…” I drop my purse strap, raise my hand, and try to push his wrist away. “Jonathan, stop it.” Damn it! Trying to push him is like trying to move a wall. “Damn it! Could you let go of my face?”
Jonathan’s mouth tightens, his jaw clenching. He finally steps back, releasing my skin, and adjusts his suit.
“What the hell is your problem, anyway?” I rub my face, trying to clear the confusion he leaves in my mind. Jonathan clouds my thoughts in a way that leaves me at the mercy of my own demons.
“Do you really want me to tell you what my problem is? Or doesn’t what you did back there count?” His icy voice is as treacherous as a threat. What did I do back there? If he didn’t want to be seen with that woman, why didn’t he just go somewhere private instead of sitting at a beachside kiosk?
“What did I do? I was just walking on the damn street! If it was so important, why didn’t you stay there?” The sound of his breath quickens after I curse. “Why don’t you go to your meeting? You didn’t have to come back…”
“I already finished that meeting. And the next damn thing that comes out of your mouth will be mine if you curse again.” Jonathan’s body stiffens, making him seem twice my size.
I bite my lower lip to keep from telling him a big “fuck you.” I avert my gaze from his controlling blue eyes. Meeting over, my ass! The way that woman was touching him didn’t look like anything business-related! There’s no way that was part of some new business strategy!
“Why did you need to go to the pharmacy, Ginger?” He adjusts his tie with his fingers, making sure it’s perfectly aligned.
“None of your business.” I focus on the horribly parked Audi R8, avoiding his eyes.
I’m not good at lying, and I’m even worse at keeping secrets. There’s no way I can tell him I wasn’t feeling well because of a headache, let alone mention Baby’s suspicion without spilling the whole truth. Baby needs to explain what’s happening before he asks me, and I end up blurting everything out. I can’t understand why she doesn’t want to tell Jonathan. If Bob is really sneaking into the rooms the way he’s harassing Jon, Mr. Roy needs to know. I’m afraid of discovering the real reason Baby has been hiding this story for so long. She used the excuse that Lorane might protect Bob and let him escape, but after the way Lorane acted at breakfast, I suspect it’s Baby who wants to protect the elegant, unhinged woman, refusing to believe she knows what’s happening to Jon.