by Lannah Smith
"You said you'd finish them tonight."
Christopher didn't answer. He pulled the refrigerator door open and took out a bottle of beer.
"And don't you think it's too early to drink?"
He slammed the fridge close and glanced at Alec. Alec's face faltered once he had a good look of Christopher's face.
"You're... angry," he carefully spoke. "What happened?
Christopher leaned back against the counter and took a long pull of his beer. Then he looked at Alec.
"I want you to do something for me, Alec."
"If it's work, I'll definitely do it but," Alec was frowning at him. "Is it about April?"
He stared at the bottle in his hand.
And didn't speak for a while.
Then he said, "That's right."
Alec didn't like hearing that. He clenched his jaw, causing the muscle to flex, his frustration more than apparent.
Still, he nodded.
"What do you want me to do?"
Chapter 18
"You were right."
Christopher peeled an eye open to see Alec standing in front of his table. Stretching his stiff limbs out, he straightened up on his desk chair.
"I am right about a lot of things but you need to be more specific, Alec," he muttered wearily.
Alec stared at him in complete disapproval when he said, "There was someone who died. Killed rather."
"Who?"
"A man. Probably that Dan she spoke in her sleep. According to our guy, they used him to get to her. And when he struggled, her father shot him straight through the head."
Christopher went silent, digesting this information.
"It's highly likely she saw her father kill him," Alec guessed.
"She did." Christopher shook his head. "She dreams about it every night."
It was what sent her into fits of screaming in her sleep, her anguish and desolation echoing throughout the room. She wasn't even given time to heal because her bastard father wasn't done torturing her, trying to beat her into obedience and submission.
"If you're just going to sleep, you might as well do it in your bedroom," Alec frowned down at him.
A corner of his mouth lifted. "She's in there, Alec."
"We already had the bedroom that she destroyed fixed. She can return there. Or you can just use it instead."
"I kind of like her in my bed."
"Yeah, but where will you sleep, you perverted fuck?"
He laughed low at the angry worry in Alec's tone. "I can't sleep anyway," he replied.
Since he was a kid, Christopher had always had trouble sleeping properly at nights. It was a problem then but it wasn't a problem now.
"And how will I catch up with work if I take a fucking nap?" he went on to say.
Alec gave him a look like he wanted to beat the fuck out of him.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're behind work because you keep procrastinating, you—," Alec shut his mouth, a muscle in his jaw leaping out from clenching his teeth tightly, and took a deep breath. "There's a limit to being irresponsible, sir," he said after his loud exhale.
"Fine, fine," Christopher lifted his hands up in surrender. "You're right. I should rest and take care of my health."
"You better sleep in a bed tonight."
He wagged his eyebrows Alec’s way. "Are you offering to lull me to sleep?"
Disgusted, Alec turned his head away. "April's already up. Martha's watching over her to make sure she eats her breakfast. You said you wanted to talk to Martha. She'll be here after then."
Christopher nodded. "I should probably take a shower."
Alec snorted. "You can take your shower in any of the two empty bedrooms upstairs. I'll have clothes prepared for you. But this is the last time I'll do shit like that. I'm not your butler."
"Yes, master."
Scowling, Alec stared at him. Christopher glanced down at his phone on the table to see it blinking. He picked it up and read the short message on the screen before he put it down again.
"You're happy, aren't you?"
His gaze cut to Alec. "About what?"
Alec pursed his lips together like he regretted his question.
Christopher leaned back in his chair in an attempt to ease the tension in his shoulders. "Say it."
Shaking his head, Alec tried to change the subject. "Was the message you received from—?"
"Say it, Alec," he interjected in a low, dangerous tone. "I'm happy because?"
Letting out an exhale through his nose, Alec met his gaze straight-on when he said, "That the Dan guy is dead."
A confused smile broke out of Christopher's lips. "You think I'm a complete bastard, don't you?"
Shrugging, he said, "We've been together for years. I don't claim to really know you but I sure damn know more about you than your best friends."
"Well, I don't know about you but you sure are chatty today, Alec."
The flash of anger in Alec's face was evident when he again directed his gaze at Christopher's way. In a low voice vibrating with fury, he said, "You're pissed. You're stressed out. I get it. But don't take it out on me."
Christopher chuckled darkly. "Don't provoke me then. There's also a limit to your insults."
Alec gave him a look that would turn marble into sand but bounced off him and didn't say anything anymore. Christopher smirked, staring at him too. The two did not take their eyes off each other. Then Alec broke the standoff when he spun on his heel and left the study, slamming the door behind him.
He was testing Alec's patience, Christopher knew that. Alec just made it way too easy because he cared. Christopher would have felt sorry but Alec would definitely make him pay in a way that Christopher wouldn't even seem it coming.
No one in this business ever challenged Christopher Lawrence.
Except for Alec.
Because of that, Christopher tolerated and respected this humorless friend and employee of his.
An hour later, he had his meeting with Martha back in his study. Showered and shaved, he felt lenient enough to let Martha lavish him once again with her words of flattery and not get pissed for once.
"I heard that you've taken care of the congressman, darling." Martha took a sip from her glass and went on, "Well done putting him back into place."
Gazing out of the window, Christopher managed to murmur, "I have an efficient staff."
"They have an efficient leader."
To that, Alec would beg to disagree.
Turning around, he sat down on his leather chair and poured himself two fingers of whisky from the bottle that was mostly empty on the table. He also poured some for Martha, who had happily finished off the rest of her drink for more.
"But the past can cloud our judgment, son. Especially when a lost love is involved."
His grip on his whisky glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Do not go there, Martha."
Unfazed, she leaned forward, saying, "I'm just worried about you."
"You're not worried about me," he told her in a mild tone belying his true feelings about the subject. "You're worried about the business."
Martha pressed her lips together but she didn't disagree.
"I had you sent here for April Locke. I didn't have you sent here to lecture me."
"Understood," she murmured, properly censured.
She looked like there was a lot of things she still wanted to tell him but fortunately, Alec came in the room, glancing at the drink in Christopher’s hand with a dark frown on his face.
“You asked for me?” he asked, not removing his gaze off the drink.
Hearing him, Martha glanced over her shoulder. Then she chuckled and finished her whiskey in one long swallow like it was just a drop at the bottom of a glass.
“You’re leaving tonight right?” Christopher asked her.
“I am,” she answered. “But I’ll be back if you need me. That would give you enough time to talk to her.”
“Alec’s going to accompany you.�
�
“What?” Alec snapped, followed by Martha’s quick denial, “No.”
Alec took a step forward, saying angrily, “I’m not leaving you here.”
“I’ll be safe,” Christopher leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. “And I gave you a task remember?”
“I can do what you asked from here. You fucking know I won’t leave you alone. And you know this shit is fucked. Now we don’t have just four situations, we’ve got five.”
“I’m handling it,” he retorted. "And I want you there to speed shit up."
“You can’t be without your right-hand,” Martha scolded. “That is not acceptable.”
“Consider it time off from my duties, then.”
Running his hand over his eyes, Alec calmed himself, then looked at him. "If you're pissed about this morning—."
"I'm not that sensitive," he cut-in.
But really. It was about this morning.
"I'm not leaving," Alec growled. “Not if I have a fucking say in it."
Christopher stared at the two angry people in front of his desk.
Then he grinned.
Two hours later, he watched the car disappear down the road.
Alec and Martha were in that car.
I sat on the chair next to the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony, gazing out to the sea. Directly ahead, the sun was setting and the burst of color filled Christopher’s bedroom with a soft orange hue. The doors had been locked. They probably had thought that I would jump off the balcony if given the chance.
I probably would.
God, if I wasn't afraid of death, no matter how much I prayed for it, I probably would. So I just sat there. Thinking about my miserable life.
It had been Dan's idea for me to run away.
Even when I kept wishing that I could be set free from my father's clutches, I had never imagined myself actually escaping. I could never imagine myself leaving.
First, because I knew he would easily find me.
Second, because I was directionally challenged and couldn't distinguish right from left.
And third, because I may act like I know a lot but out there, alone, in the real world, I knew I didn't have any chance of surviving alone.
We were in our second year in high school when Dan broached the topic and told me of his insane idea.
"It's Montecarlo," he hissed, wrecking my peace when he barged into the rooftop garden where I was reading a novel. "Your father is planning to hand you over to Montecarlo."
Panic seized me as soon as those words left his mouth but I didn't let it show. Closing the book and putting it on my lap, I stared at his furious face with what I hoped was a serene expression.
"And where did you hear that?" I asked softly.
"Doesn’t matter. You need to leave."
My head jerked back. "What?"
His eyes were filled with determination when they looked at me. "You need to leave. You need to run away."
I shook my head. "I'm not leaving, Dan. I can't leave."
"I will help you."
"I will not have you killed," I retorted. “Your mother needs you.”
“She doesn’t care about me. She only cares about the money Dad left behind for me.”
“But—.”
"It’s Montecarlo," he hissed. "April. Your father is going to sell you to fucking Carlos Montecarlo."
Again, the name made my chest constrict.
"I know who he is." I picked up my book and flipped it to where I left off. "But if my father hasn't told me about it yet, then it isn't official. Stop worrying about this and leave it be."
"April—."
"Leave it alone."
My voice was hard and unbending. And Dan finally gave in.
Two weeks later, when I returned home from school, my father called me to his study.
"How old are you?" he asked, staring at me with interest from behind his desk.
I didn't let my irritation show. I was his daughter, for heaven's sake, and yet he still asks the question.
"Sixteen," I answered. I was anxious being here, I rarely got called unless he wanted something from me. And seeing this strange interest in his eyes didn't comfort me. "I'm turning seventeen in a month."
"That's right." He grinned at me. I didn't grin back. "You're going to graduate high school in two years."
My fingers clenched and I hid them behind my back. "Yes."
I watched my father pour himself a drink and down the contents in one long swallow.
"Have you adapted to your new school?" he asked.
"Yes, Dad," I answered quietly. Considering it has already been almost a year since he had me transferred from East Private School to North High Academy, it was far too late to ask this question. And he had yet to tell me the reason for this hasty decision.
"I wanted you to have a better quality of education. The principal in your former school is too lenient with his students. And I want the best for you, daughter."
I almost scoffed but held it back before it could escape me.
This show of fatherly love wasn't fooling me. Neither was his reason. It was no secret that he disliked James Black, the current principal of East Private School. And that was definitely not because he was too lax with the school.
"After all, I'm not the kind of man who believes girls should not have an education just because she will get married and depend on her husband once she grows up."
My fists began to shake and I curled my fingers tighter.
There it was.
He smiled tightly at me. "I won't beat around the bushes anymore. I know you're too young but me and a dear friend of mine have been talking about you."
Oh, God.
I think I was about to be sick.
"He told me he was interested to wed you once you're out of high school. And so I've promised you to him, April."
I kept myself as calm and collected as possible when I asked, "And who is this friend?"
"I'm not going to tell you his name." He poured himself another drink. "Think of it as a pleasant surprise when the time comes."
Pleasant surprise, my ass.
He knew. He knew that I would die before I would let myself be handed over to that monster.
"Understood." I controlled myself and my voice. I felt like shouting my denial over his decision but I couldn't. The tightness in my chest was even making it hard for me to breathe. "If that is all, Dad, I will be taking my leave."
He gave me another tight-lipped smile. Then he dismissed me by waving me away. I left the study, still trying to breath.
That same night he gave me my first beating.
I had returned to his study to tell him that hell would freeze over before I let him marry me off to Montecarlo.
My perfect high school attendance got ruined when I couldn't go to school for a week. I had forgotten that he had been drinking and so he couldn't control his strength when he hit me.
He broke a couple of ribs.
I wished he had broken my neck instead.
Since then, I had not one but four bodyguards trailing after me.
And when Dan told me of his plan to run away once again, I told him I would with the condition that he would run away with me too.
Now I wish I hadn't.
Dan could have had a better chance of survival if he had stayed behind. Or joined his father in hiding in Asia. I shouldn't have let him come with me.
Agony ripped through me with the memory of his death and I closed my eyes, my forehead leaning to touch the cool surface of the window glass.
Briefly, through the waves of pain that washed over me, I wondered if I could ever recover from this blow. If I still had a chance to redeem myself.
I thumped my head against the glass, trying to distract myself from the sharper pain.
But, as I was pulled under, I just knew that nothing would bring him back. That nothing would remove his blood in my hands.
And I knew I could never
resurface anymore.