Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) by Nelle L'Amour

need to see Mr. Golden.”
    “Do you have an appointment with him?” she asked suspiciously, her fingers reaching for the phone.
    I swiped at my tears with my dirty palm, the one that wasn’t bleeding. “Please tell him that Sarah Greene is here,” I begged. Please.
    She pressed three buttons on the phone. I prayed it was the extension of Ari’s assistant and not security.
    “There’s a Ms. Greene to see Mr. Golden,” she said. “He may wish to bring security with him.”
    I cringed. Never in my whole life had I felt so mortified and demoralized. My hip roared with pain, and the scrapes on my limbs stung like fire. I glanced down at my torn up knee; it was still bleeding like crazy. My entire calf was now a bloody mess.
    Two familiar long legs marched into the lobby. He was perfectly groomed, as always, in an expensive light gray suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie. My burning, teary eyes met his.
    “Jesus Christ.” He sprinted over to me.
    My body began to convulse with sobs. Anguish, raw and ruthless, shook me.
    Just as I thought I might collapse, he swept me into his arms and carried me away, holding me tight like a child.
    I wrapped my arms around his neck, and buried my tear-soaked face into his shoulder. My body heaved against his taut chest. His intoxicating, manly scent rushed into my nose, assuring me that I was safe again in his strong arms.
    I had no idea where he was taking me until his voice, firm and authoritative, said, “Miss Thatcher, no phone calls please.” His office.
    Gently, he laid me down on a white leather couch, placing a pillow under my head. My bleary eyes were not yet ready to take in my surroundings. Sobs kept wracking my body.
    He sat down beside me on the edge of the sofa, cradling my head in one arm and caressing my tumbled hair with the other. Alarm flickered in his beautiful blue eyes.
    “ Saarah , tell me what happened?”
    The soft sound of my name on his lips soothed me. But words stayed trapped in my throat. Despite my condition, I noticed that I’d gotten blood all over the lapels and collar of his suit.
    “I ruined your suit,” I spluttered.
    “Stop it. I have ten more just like it. Just tell me what happened.”
    “Someone attacked me,” I sobbed.
    “Did he—?” Rage filled Ari’s eyes. I knew where he was going and cut him off.
    “No, he only took my wallet and cell phone.”
    The memory of the vicious assault swarmed me. The wild look in my assailant’s eyes as he pointed his weapon at me. The terror that filled every ounce of my being.
    “He had a knife.”
    “Oh, baby!” He took me in his arms and cuddled me like a child. He let me cry until the pain that I felt everywhere melted. My sobs dissolved to whimpers as he brushed loose strands of hair off my forehead.
    “We should file a police report. Do you remember what he looked like?”
    “I just want to move on.”
    “But, he could do it again to someone else.”
    “Please, Ari, I want to forget about him.”
    His face hardened. “Fine.”
    Blinded by my tears, I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me or sorry for me. His face softened and tenderness filled his eyes.
    “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
    Gently lowering my head back on the pillow, he rose to his feet. My eyes followed him as he crossed the room and disappeared behind a door.
    My tears subsided, and I mustered the strength to sit up. My eyes took in my surroundings. I was in his corner office—a bigger, more elegant version of the lobby, with floor-to-ceiling windows on every side. Everything was sleek, state-of-the-art, and expensive. It was a modern, high-tech version of his Park Avenue penthouse. Unusual pieces of abstract art lined the walls along with various degrees and awards. There was also a built-in display case showcasing all the skincare products Golden International made. So many were familiar; I’d seen them at my local drug store, not having a clue he manufactured them. What stood out most, however, was his massive