Disturbed (Disturbed #1)

by Ashley Beale

  "Hi. Could I please speak with Jameson please?"

  "Speaking," his voice gruff.

  "Hi Jameson, my name is Liv. I'm working with DRX. We're looking for potential clients to join our stock. Are you interested in receiving any sorted goods to get a taste for our market? You'll be eligible for-"

  I'm cut off mid-sentence. "When you're sleeping tonight, I'm going to crawl into your window and slowly slice your pretty little throat. The thick red blood that trickles down while the knife slices through it will be what I thirst on." The promise in his voice ghastly.

  "I'm sorry sir, I may have the wrong number." I can't help but stutter.

  "You don't have the wrong number. Pass on to Rhett that I'm onto him. Tell him your sweet innocent little voice doesn't trick the master of all deception."

  "I... I don't... I'm just doing my job sir. I don't know Rhett. I apologize. I'm truly sorry."

  "No. Not yet."

  That was my last call. I hung up so fast. I still have seventeen more people to call. I don't even want to touch my phone, or get up to go the bathroom, or anything else. I didn't know people were so... cruel.

  I didn't know this job was going to be this rough. I'm not even sure I can handle it.

  I start to reach for the phone to call person number eight when the phone starts to ring. I nearly piss myself with fear, yelping a little too loud. Knowing that the person on the other line can't actually hurt me through the lines, I answer it. Even though I do know I can't be harmed... yet... I still use caution bringing the phone to my ear.

  "Hello?" I answer.

  The phone line immediately goes dead.

  Tears threaten in my eyes. I can't handle this. Not anymore.

  I slide the chair back, rise from my seat, and race towards the bathroom. Except I'm stopped when I run smack into Roman. "Oh my God!" I scream. In the split second it took me to release who it was, I cover my face, terrified that the person I ran into will get me.

  "Are you okay?" Roman grabs my chin, lifting it to face me. He examines my expression while his remains worried.

  My hands drop from my face but they won't stop shaking. I can't even talk yet, so instead I shake my head back and forth.

  "What happened?" he asks.

  "I... I..." I stutter. I can't seem to get the words out. I point back to my office door.

  He walks around me with a purpose. He stands taller, wider, and heavier. Intimidating on every level imaginable.

  When he glances in and doesn't see anyone, he turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed. "What is it Ms. Donovan?"

  "I... Am... Um." Quickly I spurt out the only rational thing that can come to mind. "Who is Rhett?"

  Roman's face contours into what I'd consider as anger. "Are you sticking to the script?"

  Something about the accusation brings me out of my dumbfound state and I feel an anger wash over me. I've been threatened by God knows who, countless times, and am terrified to even go the bathroom at my work. Then he has the audacity to accuse me of not doing something right... when I wasn't even trained to do it in the first place!

  I step towards him, bringing my bravado act with me. "Yes I'm sticking the damn script. The same damn script that has gotten my life threatened! Is this even a stock market or are you selling something else, Mr. Pelletier?"

  My cheeks heat up as my blood boils. I can only imagine how red my cheeks and chest are as the anger rises.

  Roman's face is something beyond fierce. Maybe I could consider it as deadly.

  "Ms. Donovan, you can do your job, or you can leave. I suggest the first but if you can't handle your job, the elevator is right there. People don't like telemarketers. They are associating you with them. Some are friendly, some not so much. One in five will be good to you and we can sell our stocks. That is your job."

  He quickly becomes impatient with me. I just can't help that I'm scared. I've never had anyone threaten me that way. Over and over again. "I'll stay," I tell him, even if I'm still not completely sure.

  Roman steps closer to me. His hand comes up and rests on my shoulder, giving me an odd sort of comfort. "Liv." God it sounds great when he says my name. "I'll protect you. No matter what."

  I don't dare tell him he can't protect me in the middle of the night when some random dude sneaks into my bedroom to slit my throat. Regardless, he gives me alleviation over the ordeal, even if just temporary.

  "Thank you, Mr. Pelletier," I tell him.

  His nostrils flare. "Roman," he orders. "Please, call me Roman."

  "Why does Stephanie call you Mr. Pelletier?" I know I shouldn't ask, especially with a man so intimidating, but I've been curious about that.

  His face lowers a little, bringing the two of us into a more intimate setting, even if for just a quick moment. "My name sounds good in your mouth."

  Roman then leaves me standing there, completely breathless and startled. Not the response I would assume. I don't even know what to do right now, what to make of his statement. Honestly, what does it mean?

  The bell of the elevator rings as the door opens. Blaise enters the hallway, smiling heavenly at me.

  I'm in trouble.

  Blaise is sitting in my seat when I make my way back from the bathroom. He leans back with his hand crossed behind his head. He isn't dressed the same way I've seen him the past few times. He still looks perfect, even if his pants are baggier than I'd normally like. I can't even read the graffiti styled words on his shirt either. He definitely isn't working today, because that is not suitable for a job like this.

  I walk over and straddle his lap in the chair, bringing my lips down onto his. His arms immediately wrap around me, holding me closer to him, deepening our kiss.

  If I keep this up, I'll be pulling a Clarissa for sure.

  Casually I pull my lips away from his, even though I wish they could live there forever. Our foreheads rest upon each other’s, staring into one another's eyes. The deep blue of his are hypnotizing me to stay with him forever. There is something so pure and innocent about those eyes, something I could never understand.

  "Are you okay?" I ask. My hands take residence on his cheeks.

  I hate that there was a family emergency and I wasn't even able to help him.

  "I'm perfect now." He places his lips one more time on mine, this time softly. A security.

  I can't deny the euphoric feeling that brought to me, hearing him say that. I love knowing that he feels the same way towards me already that I feel towards him. Normally I'd say we were going too fast, but in reality, aren't those the best kind of loves? The ones that happen when you least expect it, with a complete stranger you can learn everything about, someone who makes you feel alive again.

  It hasn't even been a week and I know deep in my heart he is the man of my future.

  Which means I need to make sure to stay a reasonable distance from Roman. I will not mess anything with Blaise up, not even for a rich man in a tailored suit that says erotic stuff to me.

  "So what are our plans for tonight?" I climb off Blaise's lap. I didn't want to, but this is my first day on the job and the boss's door is too close by. I'm not ruining my chances at a great career just to make out with my... boyfriend. If that is what he considers himself.

  He adjusts himself in the chair to sit up straighter, but when he does I notice that his face pinches. "Are you in pain?" I ask before he answers my previous question.

  "What? No. No, I'm fine. It’s nothing." Which means, he's anything but.

  I start to walk towards him but he snaps at me, bringing me aback. "I said I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Pinched nerve or something."

  "Oh."

  Somehow I feel a pain inside me from hearing him snap.

  Blaise must notice because he stands from the chair, slower than normal, and walks over to me. His arms wrap around me, holding me close. I feel his lips caress my ear as he whispers. "I'm sorry, Liv. It’s been a long night and I'm exhausted."

  "It’s okay," I tell him, holding on to
him as well.

  "No," he continues to whisper. "It's not okay. I should never snap at you. You're too beautiful and sweet to have anyone ever be angry with you."

  I can't help but laugh softly. I didn't know being beautiful means that no one can ever be mean to you. I won't argue with him though. I like the way he treats me and the way he thinks I'm beautiful.

  "I didn't plan on anything special tonight." Blaise pulls from me to look me in the eyes as he continues to speak. "You can come over and have dinner with me if you'd like? I'm not a great cook, but I make a mean Mac-n-Cheese."

  Oddly that makes me more elated to hear than any date he could bring me on. Seeing his place, having him cook for me- even if it’s not much of a meal, having this alone time together, it’s all perfect in my eyes. "I would love that," I tell him. "I'll bring the garlic bread."

  He chuckles. "Perfect. I'll pick you up at seven." He kisses the end of my nose before leaving the office.

  Blaise helped me forget all the tension I was dealing with just moments ago. Counting backwards from five, I take a deep breathe, then I pick up the phone to finish out the calls.

  When I saw Blaise for the first time, he seemed like a basic guy. Easy going, carefree, low maintenance. If I would have pictured his home at that point, I would have assumed he shared a bachelor pad with a buddy. The Blaise I've gotten to know in the last few days has made me realize he is much more high maintenance than I expected, he has connections, and although still easy going, he likes to have nice things. Picturing his home after getting to know him, I'd say he had a small home or large apartment.

  Both times I was incredibly wrong.

  Blaise lives in a very expensive condo complex with a private entrance. A friend from school had an aunt who lived here, and from what I remember, it cost six figures a year just to reside here. On the property there is a pool, tennis court, and a paved bike route that goes into the wooded area out back. It’s gorgeous, both inside and out.

  I knew he made good money, just not this much.

  I don't make a big deal out of it though. Instead I simply feel embarrassment wash over me, knowing that he has seen my house and probably judged me for it. Dad and I live in a house built from the sixties, and the only updates have been to the wallpaper and counter tops. It needs so much more work, but it’s just not in Dad's budget to fix it up.

  Blaise brings the bagged garlic bread I purchased from the supermarket earlier into the kitchen. He preps it on a cookie sheet then starts with boiling water for the macaroni. I sit down at his high top table and watch him make the easiest supper known to mankind. It doesn't change the fact I find it romantic that he is actually cooking for me.

  "How did your first day go?" Blaise asks without turning to face me. The muscles under his shirt flex as he moves about in the kitchen. Even with a shirt on, he looks as delicious as the kitchen currently smells.

  I almost lose myself in a daze while watching him, forgetting he asked me a question, that is, until he turns to face me. "Oh. My day. It was... interesting." I don't want to tell him it was horrible and I never want to go back, not after he got me this job. It could have been an odd first day. Tomorrow may be better.

  "Interesting?" He raises a brow to me. "How so?"

  "Just not what I was expecting."

  His lips lift, almost into a half smile. "Be patient. It all gets better. I promise."

  "I'm sure it will," I tell him honestly. It’s what I'm hoping for.

  Blaise serves us each a plate once everything is finished and even dims the light to make it even more of a romantic setting. I'm not going to lie, everything about the ambience is more romantic than I would have ever thought. I'm tragically falling for this man. Everything about him.

  During our dinner, Blaise starts to ask questions about my family. I've mentioned things here and there, enough for him to know that my mom passed away and that I have an older sister, but no specific details. I honestly don't like talking about my family much. Mostly because we have too many skeletons in our closet, but after finding out about Blaise's past, I feel more open to discuss the past.

  He starts out asking basic questions, which are fine. It’s the question, "So may I ask what happened to your mom?" that gets to me.

  I bite down on my lip, mostly because it gives me a moment to choke back the tears and emotions.

  Once I'm given enough time to breathe through the pain that has hurt me since I found out the truth, I dare myself to speak. "I came home from the very first day of school crying about my backpack. Oddly enough, I do remember this. I had gone to school with a tie dyed backpack. It was my sisters used one so in a way it made me proud to wear it. This little boy in my class kept teasing me about it, telling me I looked like a fairy. Being so young, I went home crying to my mom. Without so much as a question, she left for the store to buy me the Powerpuff Girls backpack I had been wanting all summer long."

  I can't look at Blaise anymore. I know it’s not my fault, but knowing it doesn't erase the guilt I feel over this situation. I look down at my plate, pushing the fork around the macaroni.

  "It had been raining out for two days. The weather was nasty from what I was told. On the way home, part of the road had been washed away. She must not have noticed it. The car slid off the road and flipped over. The hood of the car caved in just enough it caused serious brain damage to my mom. She was in a coma for almost three years, I just didn't know it. I was never allowed to visit her in that time because my dad knew that if she lived, then she'd be a vegetable. He'd rather me believe she died."

  "I'm sorry," Blaise whispers.

  I try to smile sincerely at him, knowing he is probably at just as much of a loss as I am. No one ever knows what to say when I mention my mom died when I was little. It’s usually an apology, even though they're never at fault. "There's nothing to be sorry about," I tell him. "Besides, I'm lucky I got to know her at all."

  "Did your dad ever remarry?"

  I shake my head. My dad took it hard. He still takes it hard. He drinks enough beer to numb himself from the pain, and puts all his time into work, watching sports, or tinkering around with our vehicles. I don't think he'd even know what to do if someone asked him on a date or showed interest in him. The sad thing is, my dad is a very attractive man for his age. I've often wanted to hook him up with the moms of friends or teachers, but its never happened.

  I don't bother explaining all this to Blaise though. I'm kind of a private person when it comes to that stuff.

  "Is your sister married?"

  "Nope. She has a boyfriend she lives with though."

  "Am I ever going to meet her?"

  I love that he wants to be involved with my family. Unfortunately though, I'm not sure that'll happen with my sister. "We haven't talked much in the last six years, unless it’s a holiday or something. She didn't even come to my graduation."

  Blaise gets up to put our empty plates into the sink. He doesn't question anything more right now. I'm glad. I could feel my anxiety starting to rise. It usually does when it comes to my sister... or family talk in general.

  When he comes back over the table, his hands press against my cheeks. "Be thankful for what you have and for what you don't have. Everything in life happens the way it’s supposed to, usually without explanation. You are who you are because of your past, and if you didn't know, you're incredibly amazing."

  Tears brim my eyes. I wasn't expecting that. I can barely squeak out a response, not that I know what to actually say to something like that. "Thank you." It’s simple and truthful.

  I'm beyond thankful. Not just for Blaise's words, but for him in general.

  "Have you ever been in love?" Blaise whispers. I feel the faint of his whisper on my lips, bringing goosebumps to my skin.

  I swallow down the emotion he is evoking in me. I'm not sure where this came from. I mean, I know he didn't say he loved me, but mentioning love in general. It gives me a thrill to know he must be falling.

  I answer hi
m honestly- because there isn't a doubt in my mind that I've ever been in love before. "No. Have you?"

  Those bright blue eyes of his stare directly into mine. I find so much truth in his words it almost hurts, in the absolute best way possible. "Not yet. I can say I've started falling though."

  My lips lift into the largest smile I swear has ever been on my face. Blaise leans forward and lays his smiling lips on mine. His tongue flickers out, licking along my grinning lips, tasting my happiness. Our kiss soon furthers. It fills with passion, need and lust. Everything we find in each other.

  His hands run down my body slowing, scorching my body under their touch. When he reaches my hips, he pulls me closer to him. I feel his erection digging into me through his jeans. My body quivers at the thought of making love with him one more time. I wrap my legs around him, bringing me even closer. He slides his hands under my butt and pulls me up before walking the two of us down the hall and into his bedroom.

  Instead of using his bed like I assumed he would, he walks over to the wall and pushes my body against it. Keeping his body pressed against me, he manages to strip our shirts off, kissing me every second he possibly can. His hand reaches down to pull my pants down enough to get access to my heated sex.

  Two of his fingers dip into my underwear, bringing more moisture to my already wet core. He uses pressure against my clit, bringing me slowly to an orgasm. No one has ever gotten me ready to come so fast before, not even myself. Just as I'm about to scream out in euphoria, he slides his fingers down to push inside my pussy while using his thumb against my swollen clit. I start to shake in his embrace before biting down on his collar bone.

  He doesn't stop, no matter how much my body starts shaking under his touch. He adds more pressure, circling the area with his thumb still, bringing me to another quick orgasm. It shouldn't be possible to get off this fast... twice. "Oh my God!" I scream. I can no longer bite down on him. My back arches against the wall, causing my panting breathes to echo in the room.

  "Come for me," he breathes out.

  I don't feel self-conscious in the least when I start screaming out. My body grinds against his hand, wanting to feel absolutely every sensation possible.