04 Heller's Punishment - Heller

by JD Nixon

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Tilly darling,” he warned, tears in his eyes.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Danny darling,” I replied, tears in mine.

  “I don’t want to do this, but you don’t give me any choice,” he said raggedly and pressed his fingers down hard on terrible neck bruise I had. I cried out in pain, loosening my grip on him.

  He took advantage of that to jump up and run towards the wall again. He was climbing up on it, ready to plunge when Heller flew from the doorway and flung his arms around Daniel’s waist, hauling him off.

  “No!” Daniel shouted, kicking and struggling. “Let me go, Heller! Let me go.”

  Heller let Daniel’s body slide down his until his feet hit the floor, grasping him in a bear hug. Daniel fought furiously against his restraints.

  Apart from Daniel’s cries of frustration, eventually slowing to sobs, all I heard was Heller’s soothing voice as he hugged him back to calmness. “Shh. It’s okay, my darling boy. It’s okay. Shh. We all love you. You’re safe here. It’s okay. Shh.”

  I watched on, excluded from their closeness, feeling as though I’d been granted a glimpse into their past when Daniel had been a troubled and difficult teenager and Heller his patient rescuer. And right at that moment I couldn’t have loved either of them more if I’d tried.

  When Daniel had calmed down, we each took one of his hands and led him to Heller’s bedroom. He lay still on the bed, emotionally and physically exhausted.

  “Matilda, we’ll both stay here for the rest of the night with him,” Heller said, his face tight and drawn. “You lie down with him now while I ring the doctor.”

  So I did, and lay next to Daniel, wrapping my arms around him and moving closer until we were pressed together.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, slipping his arms around me.

  “I’m sorry too,” I whispered back.

  “What for?”

  “That a beautiful person like you has to live in such a world. I love you so much, Danny. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  “I love you too, Tilly. And please . . .” he faltered.

  “And please?”

  “Don’t let go of me tonight. Please. I don’t trust myself.”

  “I’ll never let go of you.” I started crying. I didn’t mean to, but couldn’t stop myself. It had probably been one of the worst days of my life.

  “Don’t cry, sweetie,” Daniel said, rubbing my back, suddenly finding himself in the role of comforter, murmuring soft words of consolation to me.

  Dr Kincaid, who’d dressed in a hurry judging by his mismatched, misbuttoned, crumpled clothes, burst into the room accompanied by Heller. Daniel explained what had happened to the two men as the doctor patched him up. Dr Kincaid made him take some painkillers laced with a quick-acting sedative component. While that was happening, I went back to my place to grab Heller’s and my phones. When the doctor left, Heller and I lay on his bed, Daniel in the middle between us. We all slept.

  The loud ringing of my phone rudely shattered my slumber. I fumbled around for it, focussing my bleary eyes on the clock, the fact that it was only six o’clock taking a while to sink into my befuddled state.

  I mumbled an incomprehensible greeting.

  “Is that Tilly Chalmers?” asked a strident female voice.

  I sat up. “Yes.”

  “My name is Mada Grobetsky. I work for the same network as Trent Dawson. He’s just advised the network head that he’s taking a month’s leave to recover from his . . . accident. I’m taking over from him on his show which means you’ll be working for me for the next month. I need you here today to go over the stories planned for the coming week. How soon can you meet me at the office?”

  “I can’t today, Mada.” I was too tired.

  “Ms Grobetsky, please! I’ll be your boss. Show some respect.” Respect this! I thought, flipping her the mental finger. She continued, “I don’t do ‘can’t’, Tilly. I want to see you down here in thirty minutes or you can start looking for another job.”

  She hung up. I sat there for a moment, reviewing my options. I could tell her to drop dead, which meant that I would be out of a job and reliant on Heller’s carnal appetites for my living. Or I could suck it up, go to work and remember how bloody awful it is to slave away for a bully. And wouldn’t that be a good life lesson reminder for Tilly Chalmers who’d apparently grown a little too used to being the boss’ pet? Plus there was still one very important consideration and that was the puff story on Heller’s, which was so crucial for the business’ survival. I couldn’t make Heller suffer financially again because of me.

  “Who was that, Matilda?”

  “My new boss. Trent is taking some time off work.”

  He glanced at the clock. “Ringing you at six on a Sunday morning?”

  “I have to be there in thirty minutes or I’m sacked.”

  “Impossible. You need to rest.”

  “Heller, I don’t have a choice!” I started crying again. Why was everything so horrible in my life lately?

  He sighed. “Don’t cry. I’ll drive you. Go get dressed. I’ll ask Sid or Clive to stay with Daniel for the rest of the day.”

  I smiled at him through my tears. “Thank you so much.”

  He shot me a half-smile. “I expect to be amply rewarded later for such a good deed though.”

  “Goodness is its own reward, Heller,” I said archly.

  “Only sometimes.” Our eyes fixed on each other’s and a lot was said between us without one word being exchanged.

  I scrambled out of bed and downstairs, hobbling around on my sore feet. I dressed casually as it was a Sunday, slipping on jeans, t-shirt and my runners with pain. Heller rapped on my door five minutes later and I limped after him to the basement.

  “Do you think Daniel will be okay?” I asked as we drove.

  “No. How could he possibly be? His trust has been abused time and time again by people. I won’t let that happen to him any more.”

  “What can we do for him?”

  “Keep him safe, Matilda. Keep him away from the world.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do.”

  “It’s the only thing to do.”

  “Heller?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ll know you’ll want to teach those men a lesson, including Anton. But please don’t . . . go too far.”

  He didn’t reply for a while, his eyes on the road, his profile granite hard. “I’ll do what Daniel wants me to do. It’s his grievance.”

  “Please don’t encourage him to seek revenge that way. It will darken his soul.”

  He turned and regarded me coolly. “Is my soul dark?”

  As dark as midnight, I thought, but was saved from answering by him pulling up in front of the network office. He drew my mouth towards his with a hand on the back of my neck, kissing me tenderly.

  “Ring me when you want me to pick you up, my sweet.”

  I smiled and nodded, hurrying out. The solitary weekend security guard didn’t give me any grief, mostly because of my new staff card, diplomatically not commenting on how terrible and tired I looked. I made my way to Trent’s office to meet my temporary new boss.

  She was a pocket rocket, small and dynamic, dressed for a weekday in an ocean blue designer skirt suit and high heels. Her shiny blonde bob had been hairsprayed so liberally that it wouldn’t budge in a cyclone, her pointed face fully made up. Who on earth goes to that much trouble on a Sunday? She looked me up and down disparagingly.

  “I expect a certain sartorial standard in my staff.”

  “It’s Sunday,” I said sullenly.

  “Make sure you’re better dressed next time I see you. You look bloody awful. What happened to you?”

  “I was in the same ‘accident’ as Trent. And thanks for calling me in on a Sunday. I appreciate it.”

  “Oh, attitude! I like that in my men, not in my staff. That’s something you can drop immediately.”

  I nea
rly turned and left. I couldn’t stand people like her – petty tyrants in their small domains. Remember the puff piece. Remember the puff piece, I chanted to myself.

  “Talk me through the stories for the next week. I want to be prepared. This is my big break and I’m not going to fuck it up. So the stories better be smoking, sweetheart.”

  I made an executive decision to push the Heller’s story into pole position. I pitched it to her persuasively, not mentioning that it was one of Trent’s pet projects. I had the feeling she would reject anything that Trent had been interested in, wanting to stamp her own ‘personality’ onto the show.

  “He sounds intriguing. How good-looking is he really? Nobody is that attractive.”

  “You can meet him and judge for yourself this afternoon. He’s picking me up.”

  “You know him?”

  “I used to work for him. Which is where the idea for the story came from originally.”

  “He better be fucking hot, that’s all I can say.”

  She rode my back for the rest of the day. I’d never worked so hard in my life for so little praise before. I had to close my eyes, begging for patience and serenity from whatever higher being was on duty today. And by the end of the day I was sincerely hoping that she’d go blank, spending her entire first show trying to remember her own name. When she finally deigned that I’d slaved enough for one day, I rang Heller, tired and in pain and he promised to come for me as soon as possible. Mada, sorry, Ms Grobetsky, stared out of the window that overlooked the entrance, waiting for his appearance.

  “If he’s not absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, I am not even going to meet him. Understand?”

  I understood. She’d told me that five times already. Finally, the black Mercedes pulled up and Heller stepped out of the vehicle to speak to the security guard. I could tell, even from this distance, that the guard knew who he was, probably aspiring to join Heller’s one day. I watched Mada dispassionately, noting how her expression dramatically altered from bored to interested to extremely excited to overwhelmingly passionate, all in a matter of seconds.

  “Oh, my God! Is that him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. My. God.”

  “I told you he was good-looking.”

  “Oh, my God! Yes, yes, yes! Get him on my show. Immediately! Let’s go meet and greet.”

  She buzzed the guard and instructed him to direct Heller up to the office. I sat down gratefully, muscles screaming, and watched while Mada tried to cannibalise Heller on his arrival. He countered skilfully with a charm offensive that almost had Mada stripping off her clothes in front of me.

  Upset, I was forced to witness as their discussion of the proposed story on Heller’s morphed into overt flirting that soon became loaded with intent. I jumped up and turned my back on them, staring out of the window, watching as the security guard indiscreetly scratched his balls. I heard Heller and Mada make a date for the following evening.

  I sat in stony silence on the drive home. Usually clueless about my emotions, this time he sensed a certain moodiness in me. Maybe it was because I hadn’t said one word to him. “You don’t mind me seeing her do you, Matilda?”

  “No Heller, I’m thrilled that you’re going to screw my tyrannical new bitch of a boss. I hope you both live happily ever after.”

  “You are annoyed.”

  I didn’t want to talk to him. He was so stupid sometimes that I couldn’t stand explaining things to him. We drove in silence and he threw me puzzled glances from time to time. As soon as we arrived back in the Warehouse garage, I slammed the car door and stormed towards the stairs.

  “Matilda,” he said firmly, grasping my arm and spinning me around. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I snapped, shaking my arm free.

  “Is it because of that woman?”

  Tears pricked in my eyes and I didn’t want him to see them. I needed fresh air and solitude. I pounded up the stairs to the rooftop.

  “Matilda,” he called after me, but I didn’t stop or turn around.

  Chapter 28

  I had twenty minutes of solitude. I lay back on one of the sun lounges and tried to think about my relationship with Heller in logical, detached terms. I failed. I failed miserably, ending up staring out at the late afternoon sky, watching the colours change as the sun set, thinking about nothing much at all.

  Heller quietly joined me and sat on the adjacent lounge, facing me. He reached out and grasped my hand, then reached forward and traced one of the tear tracks down my face.

  “Matilda, I need this story to be, not just positive, but glowing. I need the good publicity. If sleeping with her sweetens her up, then I’ll sleep with her. It’s just a business decision, like any other.”

  “Sure,” I said flatly, keeping my eyes on that beautiful, multicoloured sky.

  “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “If you say so.”

  He sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair. He moved over to sit on my sun lounge, forcing me to shift over. He leaned down towards me, a hand either side of my head, blocking my view.

  “Do you remember when we went away and you whispered something to me one night that you thought I wouldn’t hear?”

  That drew a small, reluctant smile from me. How foolish I’d been to think that.

  “Do you remember what you said?

  “Of course I do.” I looked at him then.

  “That was the most important thing anybody has ever said to me.” I remained silent, but kept my eyes on his. “I have that memory locked in here,” he tapped on his chest a couple of times. “And when nobody’s around I take it out and cherish it again.” He smiled. “It’s becoming a little tattered from overuse.”

  That forced another smile from me. “That’s so corny.”

  “Maybe, but it’s true.” He pointed down at his pants. “So what happens with this, doesn’t affect what happens with this.” He tapped his chest again. “There’s only one thing locked in there and it’s what you whispered to me that night.”

  He lay down next to me on the lounge and cradled me as we both quietly watched the light fading from the sky and evening falling, the stars beginning to shine.

  I finally stirred, in danger of falling asleep. “I better check on Daniel.”

  “He’s fine. I checked on him when we came home. He’s probably sleeping again. The doctor left him some sleeping tablets.”

  “How is his . . . mental state?”

  “Fragile. I’m not leaving him alone for a second. Sid, Clive and I are on a roster with him.”

  “I could help too.”

  “No, Matilda. I want someone who’s strong enough to stop him from whatever he tries to do.”

  “Will he recover?”

  “I think so. We’ve had . . . bad patches with him before, but nothing for a long time.”

  “Maybe you should find him a psychologist?”

  “No!” I drew back at his vehemence. “I’m not having someone messing with his head. Enough people have done that in his life already.”

  “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes.” A simple answer to express a world of emotions.

  “Have you done anything about what happened yet?”

  “Not yet. I’m patient. I can wait until Daniel is ready to talk about it. And then I’ll decide what will happen.” And there didn’t seem to be any more to say on the matter.

  The next day, I did the awful commute again and was ragged by the time I arrived at work. Mada had reached a pitch of excitement over her first show, or maybe it was her forthcoming date this evening with Heller. Whatever it was, she was an absolute gorgon the whole day, and by the time I left work and commuted home, I was too exhausted to even eat, falling straight into bed after a quick visit to Daniel.

  Despite my secret wishes, Mada’s debut show went well and she was almost purring the next morning, slinking over to my desk.

  “That man. Jesus! I’ve never had my
brains so comprehensively fucked out before. It was incredible.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” I said flatly. I picked up the phone to discourage her from any further conversation. It didn’t work.

  “God, the things he did! Well, I don’t need to tell you. You’ve been there and done that, I suppose.”

  “I haven’t slept with Heller.” And it was only a half-lie.

  “Why not?” She slapped her hand to her mouth in an ‘oops, silly me’ gesture. “Sorry, that was thoughtless of me. You’re a lesbian, aren’t you?”

  “No! He’s just not my type,” I lied.

  “God, I would have thought he’s every woman’s type.” Understanding blossomed in her eyes. “Oh, I get it. You prefer the wimpier kind of guys. Like Trent.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re banging Trent, aren’t you? That’s why he lets you ‘work’ from his place.”

  “No, that’s not why. Unlike some people, he was kind enough to take pity on me for the long commute I’m forced to suffer to get here. I live closer to his place. It’s as simple as that.”

  I went back to work, ignoring her until she drifted away.

  The next day filming began on her story about Heller’s, causing a great commotion at the Warehouse. Daniel rallied remarkably well, though still recovering from his injuries, stepping in to organise everything with his usual calmness and efficiency. He confided in a quiet moment as we waited for the camera crew to set up in Heller’s office, that the doctor had started him on a course of powerful antidepressants until he was emotionally stronger.

  “How do you feel on them?” I asked him.

  “Even. No ups or downs. I feel a lot better. I don’t feel as though I want to . . . You know. They’re helping.”

  I hugged him tightly. “Thank God for that. Please keep taking them, Danny.”

  “Heller didn’t want me to take them.”

  “He’s not always right. And he’s the last person who should be giving advice on dealing with emotional issues. He doesn’t have any.”

  Daniel laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “And you know that my door’s always open for you, sweetie. Night or day, any time.”