I frown, not sure what’s he’s insinuating. That I couldn’t possibly work without Saxon because I don’t know what I’m doing? That I wouldn’t want to be here without him? That I wouldn’t cope without him? The gala and Dennis’s comments come flying back at me and I momentarily lose my reserve.
Thinking about what Saxon had said to me that night and the way he looked at me while we danced, I straighten my shoulders and glare at him. “Actually, being the owner, I’ll be working late tonight. I have a huge pile of work on my desk which needs to be done,” I say snarkily. How dare he make me feel less?
Paul smiles. He seems pleased with my response, and I want to ask why but don’t want to stay here any longer.
God. I really, really hate this week.
Just as I move to leave Paul steps to the side, blocking my way. My head whips up towards him, my eyes meet his. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?
“I think Ben was looking for you, Paul.” Bill’s deep voice brings instant relief. How many times am I going to need saving from Paul in this staff room? I make a mental note not to come in here alone anymore. Creeper.
Paul turns towards Bill, snarling at him. “I’m sure he’ll find me here.”
“No, go find him and give me some time with my girl,” Bill says, his tone firm. Paul huffs, turns on his heel and leaves.
I release a breath and smile up at Bill as he makes his way over to me, arms open wide. “How are you, darling girl?” I fall into his arms, and he hugs me tight.
I can’t wrap my arms right around him, but I snuggle into him as hard as I can. “Ughhhh,” I breathe. “It’s been one of those weeks.”
“We all have them.”
I take a deep breath as I relax into him. “I know.”
Placing his large hands on my shoulders, he holds me in front of him. “When is Saxon going to fire that moron?”
“He’s working on it.” I laugh. “He needs the help at the moment, and he also wants to make sure he does it right so he can’t come back for unfair dismissal or anything.”
“It would be worth it to just get rid of him and suffer the consequences later.” Bill’s face is stern.
“Maybe you can bring that up with Saxon next week,” I say with a smile as I pat his chest before moving towards the doorway.
“I think I will,” Bill says thoughtfully, more talking to himself than me.
My shoulders slump as I grab my coffee and exit the staff room. I feel defeated, like I’m losing the battle, except I don’t know what the battle is. I’m lost, and I need some comfort and familiarity.
Sneaking past Harper as she shamelessly flirts with Tate, the coffee-shop guy, I take the stairwell back up to my floor. I grab the key from my desk drawer and head down the hall.
I doubt my decision as I stand in front of Nate’s office door. Is this a good idea? Will it send me back into a tailspin of depression? Pulling up my big girl panties, I unlock the door and slip inside, quietly closing the door behind me.
My feet won’t move. Like being stuck in cement, they refuse to take me forward. Taking a few deep breaths, I move away from the door and walk towards Nate’s office chair. I throw myself into it and close my eyes, breathing short and sharp like I can’t believe I made it across the room.
Nothing is out of place as I glance around the room. Everything sits exactly as Nate would have left it. There’s even still some paperwork in his tray, his spare tie and suit jacket hanging on the back of the door.
Tears fall uninhibited down my cheeks, and I do nothing to hinder them. Leaning forward, I rest my head on my hands as a sob tears through me. The ache in my chest is just as agonizing as it was the day it happened. My heart hurts, and I try to rub it away with my fist. This is a broken heart.
Before losing Nate I thought it was just a phrase people threw around. I didn’t realise not only did it exist, but it was the worst possible pain one could imagine, feeling it flow right through my veins. When will it stop? When will I be able to think of Nate without struggling to breathe?
I try to take a deep breath, sensing him so strongly here. I’m positive I can smell him, hear him, and feel him. Do I even remember those things? The way he smelt, the sound of his voice, the way his hands felt on me, my hands on him? Of course I do. They’re etched into my brain, playing over and over like a dream I can’t forget or escape.
I lean back in the office chair, refusing to open my eyes, and take comfort in everything that is Nate. I don’t want to think. For the first time in eight months I don’t want to analyse every little thing. I want to empty my mind and just feel.
So I do.
I awake with a start as my phone rings in my pocket. Did I doze off? How long have I been in here for?
Grabbing my phone out I quickly glance at Saxon’s name flashing on my screen before sliding the bar across. “Hello,” I answer groggily.
“Brooke?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
“We’ve stopped for a short coffee break and I thought I would call and see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine, Sax.” Frustration is clear in my tone. He would freak out if he knew I was in here.
“Okay,” he sighs. “Look Jeanie rang me on the way here and I forgot to tell you earlier she’s left a few messages at work this week. She’s hounding me about coming around for dinner and making sure you come too.”
“Oh yeah?” I say sarcastically.
“Come on, Brooke,” Saxon begs. “Don’t force me to deal with her alone. Can I book in a night with her for some time over the next few weeks?”
“Fine,” I breathe, running my fingers through my hair.
“Thank you,” he says, and I can hear the smirk in his tone. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later,” I mumble before hanging up. I run the conversation over in my head, and it occurs to me how domesticated it was, like we’re an old married couple. I glance back down at my phone, checking the time. Shit. I’ve been in here for over an hour.
Jumping up out of the chair and striding towards the door, I quickly head out, making sure to lock it behind me. Slipping the key and phone into my pocket, I head for Ruth.
“Any messages?” I ask breathless as I stand before her.
She hands me the memos. “Just a couple. Although Mrs. Willis rang several times looking for either you or Saxon. She sounded … urgent.”
I roll my eyes, and Ruth laughs. I don’t think I can avoid Jeanie much longer. I’ve been lucky to keep it to the minimal amount I have over the past months.
“You may as well pack up and go home for the day. Saxon won’t be returning, and unlike him, I can make my own coffees,” I tell Ruth.
She snickers. “Well if you’re sure, I’ll send these last emails and get going.”
“Of course, have a good night.”
I head back into my office and prepare myself for a long night of paperwork.
I do my best work at night and am at my most productive. With no staff to chat with, no incoming emails to disturb me, and especially tonight, with no Saxon to distract me, I’ve powered through this pile of paperwork.
Putting my arms up and stretching my back, I glance at my computer clock. It’s nine pm, and I‘m done. I’m hungry and tired so I decide to send this last email and call it a night.
After closing down my computer, I grab my purse out of the bottom drawer, and my coat off the door hanger, switch the office lights off, and lock the door.
Heading down in the elevator, I lean against the back wall and close my eyes. I’m absolutely exhausted and hope I can make it home without falling asleep behind the wheel. I make a mental note to drive with the window down. The cold air will keep me alert for sure.
The elevator doors ping and I step out, feeling the chill and automatically wrapping my coat a little tighter around myself as I make my way to the car.
Heavy footsteps pound behind me, and my heart stops. Holding my breath, I spin around, only to see Paul wal
king down the entry ramp.
I breathe out. “You scared the living shit out of me.”
My breath comes fast and my heart pounds.
Paul laughs, but it holds something other than humour which causes me to stand up straight and face him. “Sorry, Brooke. I just had to come back and grab a bit of work to take home over the weekend.”
There is something off about him. His eyes are wide but focused and his stance is tense but determined. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I glance around the parking lot. I don’t see his car.
My breathing is laboured as my heart speeds up even faster. My throat goes tight and I know, with every fibre in my being, that I have to get the hell out of here.
“No worries. Be quick though, because security will be here soon to lock the building up,” I tell him as I make my way to my car. I know this isn’t true, and hope he can’t hear the tremor in my voice. I pray it’s the warning he needs.
Why didn’t I accept Saxon’s offer of a reserved parking spot closer to the elevators? It’s never been a thought for me as I’ve always had Saxon work late with me. Even when he stayed late, he would always walk me to my car. Why did I stay late by myself?
I’m feet away from my car, and I’m pulled to a stop. Paul has a tight grip on my wrist, and I know I’m in trouble. My legs are numb and it takes all my strength to stay standing.
“What’s the rush, Brooke? Maybe we can go somewhere? Get a drink?” His words are laced with innuendo, and his eyes speak volumes of what he’s not saying.
Straightening my shoulders, I pull every bit of bravery in me together and meet his gaze with determination. “Maybe another time, Paul. It’s been a long week, and I’m really very tired. I just really want to head home for an early night.” I can do this. Be strong, Brooke.
I try to pull myself from his hold, but Paul only tightens his grip on my wrist. “How will I ever get you alone another time, Brooke? Saxon never leaves your fucking side.” The disgust in his tone and his nails digging into my wrist tell me this isn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought.
All my bravado drains away as I sway back into my passenger door. “Please,” I plead. I don’t know exactly what I’m begging for, but I know I want mercy.
“Do you think I don’t know what’s going on between you two? You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” he seethes.
Tears fall down my cheeks and my body relaxes as resignation resonates through me. I know no one is in the building. I know security won’t be coming. I know no one is going to be looking for me, and I know how this is going to end.
Paul leans in, only inches between our faces. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” he spits, saliva spraying my face.
“N … N … No” I say, leaning back, flattening my body against the car.
Pain shoots through me as Paul’s hand comes down hard across my face. “Don’t fucking lie to me,” he says through clenched teeth. I scream out and grab my cheek in shock.
Staring at Paul wide-eyed, I know this is going to be worse than I thought, worse than I could possibly imagine. But I can’t go down without a fight. After everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve fought for I can get through this.
Paul leans into me, pushing his hard-on into my stomach and I still.
“I want you, Brooke. I have wanted you since the first day I saw you,” he whispers into my ear.
Revulsion flows through me. Using all my strength I bring my knee up and make contact, causing him to release his grip on my wrist. Trying to escape, I swing my handbag across his face, dropping it to the floor before turning to run.
I only make it a few paces before Paul latches onto my hair, pulling it hard and dragging me to the ground. I scream out in pain as I hit the concrete headfirst. Before I know it, Paul is straddling me and backhands my face once more, sending it to the side.
“Don’t fucking try that again.” Tears blur my vision as they fill my eyes quicker than they fall. Paul leans down into my face. “I will have you, Brooke. If you would’ve cooperated we could’ve gone somewhere nicer, at least in the back of your car. I know how you like fucking in a car.”
What? How does he know that? Has he been watching us? Blood pools in my mouth and before I can think better of it I spit it straight in his face. He rears back, and I know instantly it wasn’t a smart move.
He wiggles down my body and starts pulling at my pants, struggling with the button and zipper. With his focus on undoing my pants his hold loosens on me and with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, and know comes only from the adrenaline of my fear, I begin kicking my legs. I kick with everything I have in me, thrashing about like a wild animal. Paul’s eyes go wide in shock, and he grabs at my legs, trying to still them.
I can’t clear the tears out of my eyes, so I’m blindly kicking about. I faintly hear my own cries of desperation. It’s as if I have gone inside of myself, searching for something I didn’t know was there. Hearing Paul’s oomphs of pain gives me more strength than before. I can do this.
Before I can move away, Paul is sitting on my legs and ripping my pants open. My attempts at kicking are futile as his body weight immobilises me. Feeling me relax in defeat, he shimmies down my legs, quickly pulling my pants off. Not missing the opportunity, I resume my frantic kicking, stronger and more precise than before.
In my haze I hear car brakes squeal and a door slams. There is yelling before Paul disappears out of my blurred vision, and I’m dragged along the concrete by my pants which are still hanging around my ankles.
I’m released and left lying on the cold concrete floor. Taking a deep breath, my body relaxes. I am safe.
Realisation dawns and I roll onto my side and pull my legs up into my body. Silence descends upon me as I close my eyes. The pain leaves my body as numbness and coldness take over. I just want to wake up from this nightmare. Float away from here and wake in my bed. Wake up in my bed next to Nate. To have his warm body hold mine. His arms wrapped tightly around me.
I don’t know how much time passes before I lift my head and try to focus my eyes. Saxon. He’s standing over Paul, holding him to the ground by the cuff of his shirt as he punches him over and over again. I take in the scene in front of me and notice Paul is lying limp, his body heavy, and his head lies to the side.
“Saxon,” I croak, my voice raw and hoarse. Saxon doesn’t respond as he continues to pummel Paul. I’ve never seen anyone like this before. So much hate and venom spew from every part of him. His eyes are hard and his body tight. “Saxon,” I call again a little louder, using all my strength. My head falls back to the hard concrete floor, and I close my eyes.
I’m lifted into the air, and my eyes shoot open in awareness. Saxon is breathing hard, looking at me with wild eyes. Releasing a deep breath, I drop my head onto his chest. The peace that always comes with him takes over, and I truly know I’m safe.
Opening the passenger door of his car, he sits me down and moves away. My eyes fly open at the loss of him. ”Please don’t leave me,” I cry out.
“Never, sweetheart, never. I’m just getting a blanket so I can cover you up.” He comes back with a blanket from his trunk, which he wraps around me. He kneels down in front of me as we stare at one another.
He places his hands on my knees over the blanket, and I can tell he’s trying to gather himself. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
Without control or intent, I break down. My chest falls over my knees and great wracking sobs leave my body. Saxon swears under his breath as he stands and swiftly picks me up, sitting down in the passenger seat with me on his lap. I lay against his chest while letting it all out. His hold around my shoulders tighten as he rocks me, resting his mouth on my head.
“You’re safe, Brooke. I’m here. I’ve got you, baby, you’re safe.” He repeats the soothing mantra over and over until the world falls away and all I focus on is those words. I’m safe, Saxon is here, he’s got me.
Saxon lifts me once more and I lie limply in his
arms, not even having the strength to hold onto him. Noticing the door we’re heading towards, I glance around and see we’re at my house. Saxon unlocks the door to let us in and then kicks it shut.
Carrying me to my en-suite, he sits me down on the toilet. Running his fingers along my cheek and down my arm, he looks me over slowly. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he says, his voice and expression soft.
How did I get here? I vaguely remember sirens, police, paramedics, and Saxon’s strong and authoritative tone. What happened? Why was Saxon there? Did they catch Paul? Is he locked up?
My questions are stilled as Saxon enters the en-suite, two glasses in hand. He hands me a tumbler half-full of amber liquid and indicates with his own to drink it.
“It’ll help,” he says as he throws his back. I follow suit and cough as the harsh liquid hits my throat. It’s not long before the warmth is swirling in my stomach, spreading and flowing through me.
Saxon takes my glass and places both on the bathroom counter. He stands before me as he begins stripping his clothes, kicking off his shoes before pulling his socks off. He undoes his slacks and pushes them down before stepping out of them and kicking them into the corner.
Taking off his cuff links, he places them on the counter and undoes his shirt, taking it off and throwing it on top of his pants.
Standing in only his boxer briefs he leans into the shower and starts the hot water. Determining the temperature and adjusting the knobs, he then turns, grabbing my hands and pulling me to stand.
He slowly unwraps the blanket he first wrapped me in and drops it to the floor. He methodically undoes my blouse buttons and slowly pulls it off my arms. He treads carefully as if I’m a grenade ready to explode.
He feels the water once more before leading me into the shower. We stand before each other, Saxon still in his boxer briefs and me in my bra and panties. I can see the wariness in his eyes. He’s looking at me like he did at the funeral when I first lost Nate. He’s scared to make any sudden movements.
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