by Emelia Blair
Darren pales and there are a few whispers from around us.
I see a few familiar faces in the crowd as Kendall and Lana come to step up beside me, providing backing. Both are high-level employees of the company.
“As for your threats against Miss Smith and her infant daughter, those will be addressed in the lawsuit the company will be issuing on her behalf. According to the court order, you are now liable to pay her damages for the assault on her character and damages to the company for her work that suffered as a result.”
Completely ridiculous charges, but the judge who signed off on this owed me a massive favor.
Darren’s handsome face twists into something ugly and he steps towards me, “Just because she spread her legs for you, you’re willing to believe—”
I waste no time punching him.
Blood squirts out of Darren’s nose and he clasps both hands on his face, howling, “You bastard!”
I want to do more but Kendall holds me back. It is Lana who steps forward, her voice cold. “We have a zero harassment policy in this company.” Her eyes lift to meet the shocked and angry gazes of the three women standing behind Darren, “And an anti-bullying policy. Miss Smith was traumatized by her ‘date’ with you and it’s only today that I found out that you have a habit of abusing young women.” She raises her voice, deliberately, “I will send out an email today that if there have been any other women who have suffered at your hands, they can approach me in private. The company will provide a trauma specialized psychologist.”
The women who once openly abused Elise are now wide-eyed and uncertain, and they step back, wanting to physically distance themselves from Darren.
“Mr. Hall, why don’t you come with me to my office?” Lana gestures towards the elevator.
For a moment, I don’t want her to be alone with him and then I see Oliver leaning against the marble wall, next to the elevator and I relax.
Cursing, Darren is left with no choice.
But why do I have a feeling, this isn’t over?
We still don’t know what his agenda was and what it still is. But by no means, do I believe that Darren is done.
For now though, this has worked sufficiently well.
I take the papers with me and head out.
Elise has said that she no longer plans to continue working there. While I haven’t tried to change her mind yet, with Darren out of the picture, I intend to convince her not to go ahead with her decision.
She has always loved it here and I don’t want this man to sour her experience.
I also don’t want my woman to be working too far away from me.
I want to be able to see her every day, to flirt with her, to coerce her into going out to lunch with me, and then kissing her at the most inappropriate moments.
If she goes, my heart will leave this job.
Elise has been one of the main reasons I’ve been so happy here.
I’m not letting her leave without a fight.
As I walk out of the building, my eyes glimpse a man standing across the road in a hoodie, watching me.
14
Elise
My parents have definitely softened over this one and a half year.
I watch my father reading the news to Sophie who’s curled up against his chest, dozing.
I can smell the warm scent of freshly baked muffins wafting from the kitchen.
It’s been a while since I have relaxed like this.
The sound of the rain outside along with the cozy room, a fire blazing in the fireplace that my father had built expressly at my mother’s request, has me drowsy.
I’m sitting with my feet under me in the large armchair across from my father. He didn’t even protest when I stole one of his shirts.
My eyes are half closed as I listen to his voice droning on about some government investment.
I wonder what Lucas is doing right now.
I miss him.
If I was at work right now, he would be trying to convince me to take a long lunch with him and I would be refusing. Sighing under my breath, my heart unsettled, I ask my father, “Can I have the classifieds?”
He glances my way, “Why?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I want to start looking for a job, Da—Father.”
He catches my slip of the tongue but ignores it. “You’re in no shape to be working right now.”
I wonder if it’s possible for my eyes to fall out of my head if I roll them any harder. “I’m not going in to work tomorrow. If I apply now, I’ll hear from them in a few weeks.
He doesn’t look very pleased with my reasoning. “What’s your hurry? You have a child to look after.”
I’m starting to feel annoyed now. “Yes, and I have to feed this child, clothe her, send her to a good school. And I can’t do any of that if I don’t have money. And to get money, I have to work.”
His face scrunches in a scowl. “We have money!”
God, give me patience.
“Father, you have money. I don’t.”
“It’s the same thing!”
I’m gaping at him. “You’ve spent your whole life telling me different. I’m not taking your money. It’s yours, I can support my daughter!”
My father looks uncomfortable and looks to be gearing up to fight. “I’ve changed my mind!”
“You can’t just randomly change your mind!” I let out a frustrated sound, sitting up. “I’m not going to have Sophie grow up and think her mother was so reliant on her parents that she couldn’t even raise her daughter. I want her to understand that I worked hard to raise her.”
“Well, you don’t have to go to work as a receptionist somewhere! I’m planning to retire anyway. You can simply take over.”
All my words are lost.
Never in my life has my father said this to me.
I put myself through college, taking small-scale business classes, ones that I could afford. My parents had never offered to pay and at that point, I had known better than to ask them for the money.
Now, my father is acting as if me taking over his company had been an openly discussed plan this whole time.
“What?” I can sense the cracks in my composure but I ignore them.
He meets my gaze, calmly. “There’s no need to shout, Elise.”
No need to shout?
No need to shout!?
“I have every reason to shout!” I don’t lower my voice, feeling a lifetime of oppression lift off my shoulders. “You couldn’t even be bothered to put me through college! I had to do graveyard shifts at diners throughout. I could barely afford two meals a day! I had a tiny cramped apartment and there were days I would spend stressing over the fact that I might not be able to make even that measly rent. And you’re telling me not to shout?!” My breathing is fast, anger a sharp emotion. “You and Mother have never been there for me! Now, because you suddenly see my daughter, you decide to develop parental feelings and start shoving your business at me. Well, guess what?”
There’s guilt on my father’s face and pain on my mother’s, who’s now standing beside my father.
I continue my rant, “I don’t want your company, and I don’t want your money. If I have to be a receptionist for my whole life and support my daughter, I’ll do so, gladly. I’ll put aside a college fund for her, like you never did. Sophie will never go hungry or have to clutch on to a pepper spray when she comes home at four in the morning from her job, praying that she doesn’t get attacked or raped. She won’t have to fear to ask me for money if she feels she might not make rent. She won’t sit in her apartment, trying to count each penny to see if she has enough for one meal that day or not!”
They are both growing more shocked as they listen.
I’m choking at this point, my face flushed, and at the same time wet with tears, I’ve hidden all these years behind a smile. Things I have never given a voice to, came tumbling out over this small gesture of kindness that my father offered me. I feel the clumsy bandages I’ve put over
the cracks in my soul, come apart, large gaping cracks that no one can fix.
My mother is crying quietly, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs, and my father is shaking, his face white.
I’m trembling myself and suddenly, I don’t know where to go.
I need to go hide somewhere until I’m calm and myself, until I’m the smiling Elise who has no problems, who’s always expected to be brave and strong, who only ever breaks down at night in the darkness of her home where no one can see her.
I’m breaking apart at the seams and I’m frightened.
My eyes dart around wildly and then a pair of arms enfold around me, the only pair of arms that can keep me from scattering in the wind like petals.
Lucas presses me tightly into his body, his arms like strong steel bands around my waist, his chest against my back like an indomitable wall. “Elise,” he breathes my name.
I focus on it, my working hand coming to rest on his arm, my nails digging in for purchase. “Take me away from here,” I beg him, my voice cracking.
I’m refusing to meet my parent’s eyes, my gaze fixed on Lucas’s arms.
“Come with me.” He releases me while he immediately puts an arm around my shoulder and takes me out of the room.
In my growing despair, I don’t know where he came from or where he’s taking me but I can feel myself hyperventilating.
In the hallway, Lucas pushes me down into a chair and crouches at my feet.
His voice is firm as he instructs, “Breathe.”
“I’m trying.”
I’m also trying not to cry.
I don’t want to cry.
This isn’t a crying matter.
I just yelled at my parents. All my dad did was offer me a job and I blew my top off.
Am I going crazy?
“You want to come to my place?” He asks in an uncharacteristically gentle tone which is a far cry from his usual goading one.
I nod, trying to calm myself down.
He says, “I’ll go get—”
I stop him, “N-No. I upset them. Sophie will be a good distraction from them. I’m not –“ I take a deep breath, before forcing out a calm voice and somehow managing to meet his gaze in a steadily. “- I’m not myself right now. I don’t want her to see me like this. I’ll be fine.” My hands tighten on his. “Just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone.”
And he doesn’t.
Lucas’ house is a sprawling two story house with large grounds that, if I had been feeling like myself, I would have loved to explore.
However, the rain is also a hindrance as Lucas ushers me in and the run from the car to the door has me completely soaked.
My dad’s shirt is large on my frame and right now, it’s plastered everywhere.
“Careful,” Lucas tells me, guiding me to the right.
I notice the broken glass on the floor. “What-?” It’s then that I also see his injured knuckles.
“Don’t ask,” he mutters.
I have to ask though, “What happened? Did you punch the mirror?” I gape at him.
“Sort of.” He’s deliberately avoiding my gaze and I stand my ground and raise my shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”
He raises a brow at my stubborn attitude. “Awfully persistent, aren’t you?”
And then before I know it, I’m being thrown over his shoulder and carried up the stairs. I let out a startled cry, “Lucas!”
He just spanks my bottom once. “Good girls don’t ask too many questions.”
My cheeks burn in insult. “Say that again!”
He, very wisely, chooses to hold his tongue.
We enter a bedroom on the first right as we exit the staircase.
It’s done up in black and white hues with multicolored objects scattered across the room, mementos it seems.
Mindful of my arm, Lucas lowers me to the bed, carefully. “I’ll get you something to wear.”
In a matter of minutes, I’m wearing a blue button up shirt that’s quite loose and I flap the sleeves dangling way past my fingertips, experimentally.
Lucas enters the room, wearing just a pair of sweatpants and he eyes me before sitting down on the bed and pulling me towards him to stand between his legs. The other arm is useless the sleeve hanging down, so he starts rolling it up.
I stand still, meekly.
Once he’s done, he still doesn’t release me, finally saying in a low voice, “You don’t have to be brave in front of me all the time, Elise. When things are tough, I want you to tell me so we can share the burden.”
I purse my lips. “Those things – Lucas, they happened a long time ago. I didn’t even know I was holding on to them until today.”
He looks troubled. “Still. I never knew any of this. It feels like whenever I think I have a grip on who you are, I find out something new.”
“My father wanted me to take over the company from him. I don’t know how that went to this, but it got ugly pretty fast and now I feel guilty.” Remorse floods me for how I screamed at my father. “You think he’ll want to talk to me after this?”
Lucas sighs and pulls me closer, looking up at me, with a serious expression on his handsome face. “I think your parents need some time to come to terms with how they’ve treated you. But I know that they love you. They just have a different way of showing it.” He pauses then asks, “Why didn’t you ever go to them if you were going through such a hard time?”
So, he had heard it all.
“I never thought I would be welcome. They always dissuaded me from bringing my problems to them as a child, telling me to learn how to handle my problems myself, that it was the way the world worked. And as I grew up, I just started forcing myself to become independent; I never really looked at them as people whom I was supposed to depend on. When I applied for colleges, I had to pick the cheaper one because I couldn’t afford the one offering the program I wanted.” I tug at his hand and say, fiercely, refusing to be pitied, “Don’t feel bad for me. If nothing else, I know how I want to raise Sophie now. She won’t go through any of this. You see. Sophie will have you and she’ll have me. We won’t do this to her!”
“No, we won’t,” he vows.
My lips tug into a reluctant smile. “It’s going to be really awkward when I go back.”
He kisses my palm. “I’ll be right with you. And besides, it’s not the worst thing for your parents to realize that they hurt you a lot.”
I shake my head. “I want to say bygones but I pretty much blew that ship out of the water.”
Lucas grins at me. “Want me to distract you?”
Before I can say anything, he’s whirled me around and he’s tumbling me onto the bed.
My injured arm isn’t jostled but I do remember my black eye and the bandage. “Sure you feel up to it? I look like I just fought a bear.”
“My little hero.” Lucas presses kisses on my face. “So fierce.”
“You’re patronizing me,” I complain even as I pull him down for a proper kiss.
“Does it make you want to tear my clothes off and sex me up?” Lucas asks with a roguish grin.
I roar with laughter. “I’m all banged up. I don’t think I’m in the position to be sexing anyone up at the moment. You’re on your own, pal.”
He looks me up and down, slyly, his body half draped on mine. “I think I can manage.”
“Pervert,” I try to push him off me, but he steals a wicked kiss that has my heart hammering against my ribcage.
“Only for you,” he says, smoothly.
I groan. “How can you be this corny?”
“Practice, love.”
“You hit on yourself in the mirror?” I ask, grinning.
Lucas isn’t bothered, announcing, “I am my own best critic.” He unbuttons my shirt, leaving me clad only in my panties which have little strawberries on them. “Cute.”
I wiggle my butt in them and he hooks his fingers in them, saying conversationally, “One day I’m going to get you those edible pantie
s and then I’m going to lick them off of you, mixed with all your juices.”
I can see the hunger in his eyes. The combination of his words and the look he’s wearing has me whimpering in need.
He tugs off my panties and tosses them to the side, carelessly. “Now you’ll have to stay real still,” he warns me, his eyes dancing with mischief. “We don’t want you jostling your injuries or anything.” His mouth ghosts over my bra and with a quick movement from his fingers, he has it open from the front.
Lucas’s mouth is hot and wet as it envelops my breasts and he teases my nipple, mercilessly, making me squirm.
His toned abdomen brushes against me and I gasp out when he lowers one hand and hooks two fingers inside my pussy. He pumps them in and out slowly and I can feel my inner muscles tightening around his fingers, my body awash with blind, hot sensations.
“I found something very interesting,” he murmurs as he moves his mouth, trailing small love bites and soft, sweet wet kisses that make me writhe.
He has this way of making me feel like he’s worshipping my body when he kisses me, his lips lingering over the spot.
“It’s this thing I found online.” His tone is light as he keeps nudging me toward the edge, his fingers moving in an undisturbed rhythm inside of me, inciting small helpless sounds from me. “I put it against your clit and press the remote.”
His smooth voice is like velvet rubbings against a course surface, making me shiver,.
“Should I try it on you? Or maybe you can press it against your little clit while I fuck you with my cock.”
The imagery he’s paining is too vivid and I tremble. “I thought I was supposed to stay very still.”
He smiles. “Oh, you will. I’ll just tie you to the bed.”
My words are lost as he rubs the thumb of the hand that is fucking me, against my clit, his movements precise and focused. My back arches in a silent scream as the force of my orgasm leaves me panting.
When I fall back onto the bed, I see him standing up and licking his fingers, his gaze fixed on mine.
My chest heaving, I stare back, unabashed. This is what this man has made me; totally comfortable in my sexuality with him. My body is still shaking with the tremors from the orgasm as I smile lazily. “Are you just empty talk or do you actually plan to go through with that?”