Shark 2

by Gillian Zane

  Lauren greeted him like an old friend. She threw her arms around him and pressed her body against his chest, her breasts in a skimpy top. I recognized it. It was the top she wore on first dates if she was excited about the date. She wouldn’t have worn it to work, unless…well, unless she was meeting a guy for lunch she wanted to charm.

  “Lauren,” he replied, but his eyes were still on me. He was judging me, measuring me. I tried not to squirm.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this lunch all morning,” she cooed. When his arms didn’t return her embrace, she slid away disappointed and frowned when she realized he hadn’t even looked at her. She followed his gaze and her warm smile dissolved into a frown, which quickly morphed into a hostile glare.

  “Lauren, do you know Cassidy Hail?” Drake finally turned his gaze away from me to Lauren.

  “Yes, we met. The new girl,” she said it as if it was a bad thing.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t know each other before since you share a mutual friend.”

  “Oh, really.” Lauren’s hostile glare dropped the moment Drake’s eyes were on her. Replaced with a fake smile plastered across her face. “I just met Cassidy this week.” Lauren’s tone was flirtatious again as she sidled closer to him. As if she could get any closer. Was Drake with Lauren? That didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t like that at all. How would he have met her? Was it because of Cassandra? Because of me?

  “What friend do we share?” she asked me.

  Drake answered.

  “Cassandra Mercier.”

  “What’s this about?” Lauren’s tone went from flirtatious to icy. She took a step back, her eyes going back and forth between the two of us. Drake’s curious gaze now fell on Lauren.

  “You must be the Lauren Cassandra told me so much about. What a small world,” I said, watching her closely. She kept glancing from me to Drake, her eyes full of some emotion I couldn’t place. Was she scared? Or maybe she was battling grief? I couldn’t tell. Her aura had gone red and I was surprised at all the black pooled around her heart. There was so much black. For some reason I couldn’t get a read on why it was there. I was used to being able to read people’s sins, but Lauren held hers too close to her.

  Her mouth was opening and closing like a fish, like she didn’t know what to say. Her reaction was odd.

  “She never mentioned a Cassidy.”

  “I wouldn’t expect her to.” I went for mysterious, let them both ponder that.

  “Would you like to come with us to lunch, Cassidy?” Drake asked. “Since this involves you as well.”

  “Wait? What is this about?” Lauren demanded again. “I thought we were done with talking about her.” There was no grief in the her. It was almost hostile. I wasn’t the only one who picked up on that.

  “I need as much information as I can gather to find Cassandra, Lauren. Don’t you want to find Cassandra?” Drake watched her. There were now tears streaming down Lauren’s face and tension radiating off her. I had never seen her this way. I couldn’t read why she was acting bizarrely. This could be how she dealt with grief. I didn’t know how she reacted to grief. We had never lost anyone close to us.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I have an errand to run. But I would love to at another time. You guys—uh—enjoy yourself.” I tried to ignore Lauren’s tears. She wiped at them with the palm of her hand, self-conscious.

  I started to back away but Drake stopped me. A hand on the arm and a head cocked to the side. He leaned his head down so we wouldn’t be overheard. He was so close. I caught his scent again, that appealing mix of citrus and mint. Without consciously meaning to, I breathed in deep and his eyes sparked with amusement.

  “Business chic looks better on you than bartender trashy,” he said with humor in his voice. Was this a joke? I didn’t know how to deal with a joking Drake.

  “Uh…thanks.”

  “I want to talk to you alone,” he said. “I tried to call you, but your phone was disconnected.”

  “Oh, yeah. I got a new one. You know with all the drama…” I hinted that it was because of the Bishop stuff. But really, I needed a new number for my new case. I fished out a piece of paper from my purse. My hand landed on the flash drive I desperately wanted to get back to my apartment. Of all the days. I scribbled my number on the paper and slipped it into his hand. He held my hand a little longer than was necessary. And I had to restrain myself from leaning into him.

  “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Hail,” Drake said and for once, it didn’t sound like a threat. I smiled and hurried off, back to focusing on my case.

  Chapter 9

  Bullies Suck

  I made it back to my apartment in record time. There was a port waiting in my wall when I walked through the door and I inserted the flash drive into it. Things began to happen immediately. I glanced at my watch.

  “Shit,” I cursed. My lunch break was over in ten minutes. I rushed out and hurried as fast as I could back to my building. I was five minutes late. And Phillip was back.

  “Cassidy!” he hollered through the door.

  “Yes, Mr. Nixon.” I grabbed my notebook, thinking he wanted to dictate his notes from his meeting. There was a plastic cup on his desk and there was a faint aroma of alcohol. His meeting was a social one.

  “You were gone when I got here, I don’t like that. I had important things for you to do,” he slurred.

  “I was at lunch, sir.”

  He maneuvered around his large desk, lilting slightly and catching himself on the edge of the furniture. It must have been one hell of a meeting.

  “This client didn’t convert either. This is the third one this month, Cassidy,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, sir, maybe…”

  “Enough,” he cut me off and whipped his hand through the air. “Don’t give me advice, Cassidy. You’re here to do my bidding and—” He looked me over and his slack face pulled into an appreciative smile. “Prance around in that fucking hot dress. I’m sure you wore that for me, right?”

  He moved forward. I moved back.

  “No,” I said, trying to shut him down quick.

  “Do you wear these outfits for me?” He stalked me, forcing me into the corner, ignoring my refusal. There was no denying what his intentions were. The office door was open, but he didn’t care. We were isolated in this wing of the building. From the determined, lustful look he was giving me, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He had seduced all of his prior assistants. They were all willing. Why would I be any different?

  “I don’t want this, Phillip,” I said, surprised at the quiver in my voice. I was scared. I couldn't think my way out of this situation without revealing things about myself I couldn’t reveal.

  My back hit the bookshelf. Panic flared through me, my limbs became heavy with the rush of adrenaline.

  What could I do to stop this? Someone had to come and intervene. I thought about Miriam. I concentrated on her, and her aura pulsed back to me. That beautiful orange. She was three floors down. She sat behind her desk, on the phone with an employee who was trying to get his medical bills covered. She was frustrated that she couldn’t help him. The insurance had refused him. I concentrated harder. There was something she had to tell Phillip. It was urgent. She had to tell him right now. Right. Now.

  She hung up the phone without a goodbye.

  I had never tried to do anything like this before. I hoped it would work. When she got up from her desk I lost concentration and my attention came back to Phillip. He had grabbed me. His fingers were on my face. He held my chin. I whimpered.

  I had thought he was harmless. He had never assaulted anyone before. He had never forced himself on a female before this. Why now? Why me?

  “Stop, Phillip, you’re hurting me,” I cried. He didn’t let go.

  He moved closer, his fingers finally dropping from my face, but only because his lips replaced them. He kissed me. Not to seduce. Not to show affection. He kissed me to claim me. To show he was in charge of this interaction.
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  I tried to turn my head, but his hands were now on my shoulder. My head was pressed back against the bookshelf. When I turned my head away from him, his lips sucked on my neck, on my cheek, and then landed back on my lips. I could taste the alcohol on his breath, the pungent odor of gin and fried food. I almost gagged.

  He spread his legs to get into a better position and I brought my knee up and into his crotch. It was a good one. But he was drunk and his senses were dulled. He fell away from me, but it pissed him off. He wasn’t debilitated. I wanted to manifest a gun and shoot his ass, but I knew that wouldn’t do the job. I had to hold on until Miriam got here. If Miriam got here.

  He was on me again. His big hands pushed me against the bookshelf as I fought him. He couldn’t let go of me to do much more than slobber all over my face. He was trying to use his leg to spread my own, but it wasn’t working. I tried to hold him at bay for as long as could. If he wanted to hold me in this position, he couldn’t do much more than kiss me. But if he got me off my feet, I was screwed.

  I tried not to gag as his stinking breath mingled with mine, as his hands pawed at my breasts as they held me against the shelf. I thought about everything and anything to distract me from what he was doing. I had to hold on. I thought about Brandon and his silly shirts, about the pool and all my new friends. I thought about Drake. About his eyes, how they could see right through me…

  It had been too long. Miriam should have been here. I had to do this on my own - and I wasn’t going to let him assault me for this case. I gave one big shove and he fell back, hard and on his ass. He hit the coffee table and cried out in anger.

  “Bitch,” he growled. “You’re so fucking fired.”

  I ignored him, trying to step around him, but his hand shot out, grabbing my leg, too quick for a drunk guy. What the ever living hell? Drunk people were not supposed to be coordinated.

  He took me down. I fell in slow motion, face first. I used my hands to break my fall, but I was down. And he was there, to take full advantage of my disadvantage. He flipped to his stomach, keeping hold of my leg. I kicked and managed to get loose. I got up on my hands and knees, impeded by my tight dress. Stupid choice in clothes. He played dirty. I had left my hair down and he grabbed ahold of it. The pussy grabbed my hair, like a fucking chick. I felt myself falling back. I hit the coffee table in the seating area with my head and saw stars.

  Damn that hurt. My vision went black for one split second. It was enough time for him to push me to the side and flip me onto my back. He dragged me by my leg toward him. My dress rode up above my hips, exposing everything below my waist for his pervy perusal.

  “Mother fucker!” I kicked out again and hit him on his chin with my shin. It was a lucky shot, but my vision blurred again with the motion. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

  “Stop! No, no, no!” His hands were slipping over my legs. I heard the sound of a zipper.

  This was not what I had expected. This was not how this was supposed to end. I didn’t care about the case anymore. I didn’t care about the right kind of karma, or his just desserts. This man was going the fuck down. If he came near me with his dick, I was going to chop it off. I was going to manifest a fucking knife and chop off his dick and feed it to him. If I could just clear my vision. If I could just concentrate enough to manifest anything.

  Pressure on my legs.

  There was something wrong with my head. It throbbed. I couldn’t concentrate. Was that why I couldn’t make anything happen? Why I couldn’t think? Knife. Knife. Gun. Dragon. The better to eat him with. Could I manifest a dragon?

  “What in the blazes is going on here?” a female voice said. It was muffled. The pressure on me was suddenly gone. I could breathe again. Something was torn off my face. Was that what had been wrong? There was something over my face?

  “She fell, tripped in those heels. I was trying to help her.” Phillip’s voice. Lies. Liar. Asshole.

  “Sure, Phillip, that’s why your penis is poking out of your pants.” It was Miriam. She had come. I had gotten her to come. There were hands on me pulling me up. I concentrated on healing. I had to heal.

  My vision blurred, but the more I thought, “heal, heal, heal,” the more the blurriness faded. I stood erect and blinked away the pain. I was tilted to the side. I realized it was because I only had one shoe on. I kicked off the other shoe. Miriam looked at me with concern.

  “He tried to rape me,” I said and Phillip began to sputter denials.

  “Rape?” Miriam said dumbly. Like even though she had witnessed it, she could not believe it and especially had no idea how to handle it. I’m sure this was a first for her as an HR person.

  “I did not,” Phillip finally got his words out.

  “Are you sure, my dear, rape is a pretty strong accusation?” Miriam asked.

  You’ve got to be shitting me!

  I looked at her as if she grown horns. Her face was impassive. Unreadable. Hadn’t she seen us? She had commented on his state of undress. What was going on here?

  “Rape is a strong accusation,” Phillip mimicked and my hatred now had a new target.

  “Shut-up, Phillip,” Miriam said and if looks could kill, he’d be as dead as I am.

  “Let’s go in the bathroom and get you cleaned up,” she directed at me. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I didn’t want to let Phillip slip away. He needed to go down. Down. Down. Down. “If you want to file charges, Cassidy, we’ll have to call the police,” Miriam said in a soft whisper as she led me away. “They’ll have to take both of your statements. Yours and his. And he never actually raped you. Do you understand?”

  I didn’t. I shook my head.

  “Maybe you need to take the rest of the day off. Let’s wash your face.” She handed me a wash rag from Phillip’s private bathroom.

  “He almost did. If you wouldn’t have shown up, he would have,” I said as she wiped at my face. The rag came back bloody.

  “I know he did, darling. But he didn’t rape you. He tried to. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a sexual assault charge against him, really it will most likely be an attempt to rape, which is a misdemeanor. I will testify that he was exposing himself, but Phillip is well-connected. Even my testimony might not be enough to get anything life shattering.”

  “And you’re a lawyer now,” I said with vehemence.

  “No, I’m a victim of rape,” she said coolly and I turned to her in shock.

  “I’m sorry.” I had no other words. None that could convey what I really felt.

  “If you’re sorry, you’ll listen to me. Hear what I’m telling you. He’ll get off if you try and press charges, so if you want him to go down, you need to come up with something better.”

  “What is worse than prison?” I asked.

  “A lot of things, especially for a man like Phillip who’s used to getting his way and buying people into getting anything he wants. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can think of something.”

  “Like financial documents,” I said. Miriam smiled.

  “I like how you think,” she replied.

  Chapter 10

  Going Down

  Phillip wasn’t in the office when Miriam and I exited the bathroom. He must have made a hasty exit, not wanting to stick around for any repercussions. Repercussions like me ripping off his dick and making him eat it. I was getting rather homicidal the more I thought about it. I kind of liked this new side of myself I was discovering. Yeah, it took a brush with second death and possible rape to get me to this point, but with the way my life was going lately, this was smoother than most.

  “I won’t say a word of this, unless I don’t hear from you tonight. You’re already looking better. With all that blood I was scared you hit your head pretty hard.”

  “Scalp wounds bleed a lot,” I said. I found my missing shoe and slipped them both back on. I straightened my dress, frowning down at the torn hem.

  “I’m glad it wasn’t that bad,” she said, clucking over my ripped dress
. “Take the executive elevator so you won’t run into anyone. You’re sure you can get me those documents?”

  “Consider it already done.”

  “Good, good.” She walked me to the elevator.

  “Miriam, thank you,” I said as the doors to the elevator opened.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Miriam wanted me to email her the documents as soon as I found something. She also wanted me to come back to work tomorrow like nothing had happened. On one hand, I was dying to see Phillip go down, in person, but on the other I was afraid this wouldn’t work.

  Those doubts plagued me as I rushed out of the executive elevator and into the deserted lobby hallway. The hallway led either out into the main lobby or the private parking area that upper management used. Perks of the overly paid.

  I concentrated on putting myself back together. My hair fell down my back clean and brushed. My dress lay against my body, repaired and unwrinkled. My shoes became pristine again, my stockings like new. I strode out of the hall and into the lobby like any other day. Nothing to see here, pay no mind to the chick that’s about to have a panic attack.

  “Ms. Hail.”

  “Will you stop calling me that?” I snapped, but didn’t stop. Drake Greco was the bane of my existence. He popped up every time I needed to make a hasty exit. What was he doing back here? Had his lunch date with Lauren gone that long?

  “Cassidy, stop.” He followed me through the lobby, a dark shadow at my back. I kept walking, not turning or looking over my shoulder to see if he was following me. The glass doors leading out onto the street beckoned me. I had to make it out of here before someone stopped me. Before everything blew up. I was expecting to see Phillip jump out from behind the sofas and scream for me to be taken into custody. “Liar!” He would scream. And they would all believe him, because it was partly true. I was a liar.

  “Cassidy!” I was out in the sunlight. Free of the building. Free to do what needed to be done.