Her Savior

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Those changes had begun by me calling Ethan in to a meeting. I presented him with the evidence.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ I’d yelled. ‘Do you know this could ruin us? What’s the matter with you?’

  Ethan had stayed surprisingly calm. ‘You’re out of touch, Oliver,’ he’d said. ‘You think that you can become top dog by just playing along with everyone else’s rules, but that’s not how the business world works. Yeah, a few bunnies might get hurt,’ he said dryly, ‘but that’s the price. We’re lagging in manufacturing and in creation; we need to be moving faster if we’re going to stay competitive. This is a shortcut, a harmless one, that can help move us straight to the top.’”

  I watched Becka as she turned white, as if she could hear those specific words coming out of Ethan’s mouth. I knew that she had his number. I also wondered, briefly, if they had slept together. A surge of jealousy rolled through me, but I shut it down, reminding myself that she was mine, that she loved me, and that anything Ethan had gotten out of her, he had gotten the same way he had gotten pieces of my company: deception and robbery.

  “What did you do?” Becka asked.

  “I continued to confront Ethan,” I said. ‘It’s stopping, right now,’ I’d said. I couldn’t believe his thought process and how cold and separated he was from everything. He looked like a sociopath, cold and calculating. Even though we had never really gotten along when we were growing up, I mean, we fought just like any normal siblings, I couldn’t believe that this was my brother standing in front of me.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ he’d responded. ‘It’s never stopping. And I have safeguards in place to make sure that things will continue to go as long as I want them to, in case you’re thinking of interfering.’

  The safeguards, it turned out, were to pin everything on me if I chose to go public with the animal testing. I had spent more than a year pulling my reputation out of the tank with investors and the media… and I had fired Ethan. Ethan hadn’t gone cheaply, though; every month since I’ve been sending checks to E.H. Enterprises, which was Ethan’s blackmail account. Ethan had agreed to not speak to anyone in the company as long as he got his money.”

  “Blood money,” Becka said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “So, now you know everything.”

  She looked at me, her head cocked as though she couldn’t quite fit all of the information I’d given her into her brain. I didn’t blame her; it was a lot. It had taken me years to absorb it all, and I still wasn’t sure I believed everything that Ethan was capable of.

  Then, she asked me a question I hadn’t anticipated.

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  That was Becka, living in the present and the future, not the past. What was I going to do about it—a problem solving approach. Stop whining, that comment said, and figure out your shit so you can move on with your life.

  I thought about how I might answer that question for the majority of the rest of our breakfast, which we shared in silence. The obvious answer was that I had to, once and for all, take Ethan down. The question that resulted from that answer was, of course, how.

  I knew Becka had been researching Neurotova to an incredibly deep level, and I knew that she knew more about Ethan, me, and even the company than she was letting on. She did much of her research on the computer in her office while she was my assistant, so of course I could see everything she did. I knew she had far more information than she realized she had.

  “Well?” she asked, after several minutes had gone by.

  “Well,” I said, my mouth full of eggs. “I guess I’m going to use the people around me, the people who I know have been onto something for a long time, and hope that they’re willing to fight for the right side.” I looked at her pointedly, then I held up a mimosa and waited for her to hold up hers. “Cheers,” I said. “To those in the know.”

  “Cheers,” she said back, slightly hesitating.

  “And now,” I said, standing up and walking toward her, “I have missed you.”

  I waited for a moment to make sure that she would be receptive to my advances, and, when I saw her face flush deep in her neck and all the way up her cheeks.

  “Wait,” she said, putting her hand on my chest.

  “What is it, my dearest?” Her hand on my chest aroused me, sent a spike of energy through me. I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms at that moment and have my way with her, to push myself into her and feel her wrapped around me, breathing hot in my ear, smelling her, feeling her beautiful, smooth skin pressed against mine.

  “How did Ethan get into your house?”

  I could see suspicion in her eyes. She thought I’d let him in. Perhaps, she thought the entire thing was a set up. I thought for a moment about the best way to answer.

  “I don’t know,” I said finally. “My guess is he had a key made at some point. That seems like something he would do. I’ll get my locks changed so it doesn’t happen again.”

  She kissed me, then, and I carried her to her bedroom. She was so soft, pliable in my hands, and I laid her on the bed gently. I was aroused, had been from the moment I’d laid eyes on her, but I took my time with her, getting to a level where I knew she would experience all the pleasure she was entitled to, all of the pleasure she had earned from my absence and all of the drama with Neurotova. I slowly pulled her top over her head, and she slid her sweat pants off with her feet. I pressed my hand between her legs and felt her soft flesh. I kissed her, her tongue sweet and warm as it connected with mine.

  It felt absolutely perfect to be back in her arms again.

  Becka

  I had no intention of sleeping with Oliver, until he had said he missed me and looked at me with eyes that were so sincere, so genuine, I could have melted right on the spot. I had a lot to absorb; he had told me several things during his explanation… first, I now knew how Ethan and Oliver fit together. More importantly, Oliver had let me know that he knew about my research. I didn’t know how he knew, unless he had suspected I was doing something like that and had searched his computer on my desk. I suppose it was stupid of me to do my research there, but I had gathered very important evidence and I knew the only reason I’d gotten it was because I’d had access to some of the company’s files on that particular server.

  He took me to my bed and he laid me down as gently as something treasured, then slowly began to undress me. I could feel his cock, hard, longing, against his jeans. I wanted him inside me, wanted him desperately, but I also wanted things to last. My trust in him had been broken slightly; I didn’t know if he was going to disappear again.

  “I don’t know if I can trust you,” I whispered through our kissing.

  “You can trust me,” he breathed.

  “What if you disappear again?” I asked. “I mean, where were you?”

  He paused, looking into my eyes. I knew we’d had our conversation and I didn’t want to keep bringing it up, but the fact was, I was scared. I knew if he could disappear without any notice and didn’t call me, I’d be on my own. The idea of being on my own to fend off the press, to explain his actions, even be alone with Ethan, was terrifying.”

  “I told you; I had to disappear because of the heat of the press. There was no other reason. I promise you.” His fingers trailed over my breast and I felt a shiver move through me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you take me with you?”

  “My love, the less you know, the less connected you are to me, the safer you are. Don’t you understand? That’s why I’m so worried about the research you’ve been doing. If you know more than you should, you’re far more apt to get caught up in the media shit storm, and I want to protect you from that.”

  He made sense. He kissed me.

  “If I’d told you where I was, or if I’d tried to contact you, the press would have somehow found out about it. They’re like sharks in a pool of blood. They snap at whatever they can get. Hurt first, ask questions later.�
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  I wrapped my arms around him, drew him to me, felt his cock pulsing against my thigh. “I don’t want to be without you,” I said.

  His response was to kiss my breasts, one at a time, slowly, his tongue swirling around my nipple in a way that drove any thoughts of the past or future out of my mind. The only thing I knew was the present moment, his lips and tongue on me, my arms around him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt his cock moving closer and closer to its destination.

  He pulled back from me and sighed admiringly, scanning my body in appreciation.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. He moved down and began to kiss my inner thighs, sending waves of arousal through me. “You’re so wet,” he said, licking the apex of my thighs. He used his hand to spread my legs further, and slid two fingers easily inside me. He continued to kiss and lick me as he finger fucked me slowly, like we had all the time in the world together.

  I gazed at him, licking up my arousal, and I knew that he was the one I wanted to be with. There was no way Ethan could ever measure up to Oliver; Oliver made love to me with feeling. We had a true connection.

  He began to kiss up my stomach, stopping to sample each square inch of my flesh.

  “Your skin is so smooth, so perfect,” he murmured as he made his way back up to my neck. I spread my legs and wrapped them around his hips and he entered me, beginning immediately to thrust into me with each breath. He filled me, his eyes meeting mine, and we rocked together until I felt my orgasm swelling.

  “I’m gonna cum,” I whispered. “Oh my God, you feel so good inside me.”

  “You feel better than I ever could. Cum for me,” he said, pressing closer to me and hitting my clit with each thrust.

  I came quickly, a force pushing through me, energy surging, and I cried out. He pushed harder, authoritatively, and groaned as he came in me. I held him to me, my nails scratching his back, keeping him as close as I could.

  When he finished his final pulses into me, he sighed and relaxed. We lay together, him on top of me, breathing quietly, until he finally rolled off as our breath steadied.

  “I want to make it up to you,” he whispered into the dark.

  “Make what up to me? That was fucking amazing,” I said. I was smiling; I couldn’t help it.

  “Not that… that was absolutely amazing. I want to make up the last week. Two weeks. The last month. I want you to know how much you mean to me. Where do you want to go? We can go anywhere in the world. We’ll leave tonight.” He rolled up on one elbow and I could feel him looking at me in the dark.

  I thought. Where would I go if I could go absolutely anywhere? Italy? Russia? Belize?

  “I want to stay right here,” I said. “With you.”

  “Seriously,” he said. “I’ll take you anywhere.”

  “That’s the problem with you; you run away too much. I want to stay here with you. A stay-cation. I want to order food in, watch movies, fuck, and fuck some more.” I stared at the ceiling, once again in disbelief of my own choices. There was a time when I would have wished for a million dollars so that I could go anywhere, do anything. Now, I had that chance, and I had the chance with the man that I cared about the most… and all I wanted to do was stay home.

  “Well,” he said, “that’s a pretty easy thing to do.”

  “Is it?” I asked. “Every time I turn around you’ve disappeared.”

  He sighed. “How many times are you going to remind me of that?” I could hear an edge to his voice, and I knew that I was getting close to pushing his patience, if I hadn’t already.

  “Until you understand how much it hurt me that you didn’t include me,” I said plainly.

  He looked at me and I could see the whites of his eyes in the dark now that my eyes were adjusting.

  “Becka,” he said slowly, “I know that you were and are hurt. I promise, I will never hurt you like that again. Ever. I’ve always only had your best interests at heart. I care about you, and the last thing I want, ever, is to see you hurt.”

  He kissed me then, and we made love again, twice. In the morning, I woke up and heard him in the kitchen making coffee. I smiled, smelling the delicious coffee and imagining him bringing a tray of delicious breakfast into my bedroom for us to share. I heard him whistling happily. I waited, listening to him, until my stomach started to growl, and the scent of fresh coffee began to disperse around the apartment. What on earth was keeping him?

  “Oliver?” I called out. “Honey?” I wrapped my robe around myself and I opened my door, walking through the living room and into the kitchen.

  Lisa stood there, alone. “Oh, hey,” she said. “Do you want some coffee? There’s just a little left, but I can make more.” She looked me up and down. “Sorry, I thought you were staying at Oliver’s. I assumed I was alone.”

  I looked around. “You didn’t see him this morning?” I asked. “What time did you get home?”

  She giggled. “Like I have any clue. Four? Five? It wasn’t quite light, but it was close. Maybe.”

  I looked around the apartment as if I expected Oliver to be hiding somewhere. And, truthfully, I think I expected him to be. There was no way he would have promised me everything he promised me last night and then leave this morning. Not a chance.

  “Sorry,” Lisa was saying. “I truly didn’t see him.”

  With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I walked into the second bedroom Lisa and I shared as an office. I had overtaken it for the most part over the last few months with my research, which I kept in two file boxes next to the desk.

  They were gone.

  “Lisa!” I yelled. “Did you move those two boxes in the office? The file boxes on the floor?”

  “The boxes you’ve been treating like your first born? No ma’am,” she said. “Not a chance in the world I’d even touch them.”

  I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d moved them. Thinking of any reason why I might have taken them out of the office. But, of course, that was all my brain just exercising itself to no end. I knew full well I hadn’t moved the boxes. The outline created by their weight was still visible in the carpet. I never moved the boxes. Any research I was working to complete, I always carried in my messenger bag.

  “That asshole,” I said.

  “Who?” Lisa said, poking her head over my shoulder and looking into the office.

  “Oliver,” I said flatly. “He stole my research.”

  Chapter 8

  Becka

  “He what?” Lisa exclaimed as she stood in the doorway to the office. She wore her pajamas and had her hair up in a ponytail. I was dressed nearly the same, except my hair was floating down around my collar. I grabbed it out of frustration and pulled it over one of my shoulders.

  “He stole my research. I can’t fucking believe it.” I stood, staring at the blank spot on the floor, shaking my head, trying to keep my breath moving in and out of my body, struggling to make it happen. I heard ringing in my ears. “It was right here.” I pointed to the floor where there had obviously been a stack of something; there was a blank square in the middle of the floor by my desk. I wasn’t exactly the best housekeeper, especially in our shared office. Usually Lisa straightened everything up and I ended up stacking things anywhere there was open space. The place where the boxes had been was the only empty space of carpet on the floor.

  “Are you sure?” Lisa asked. It would have been hard for him to get those boxes out of the apartment; I’ve seen them. They’re not exactly light. I mean, he couldn’t tuck them into a backpack and disappear into the dead of night.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, dully. “I don’t know how he did it, but it doesn’t matter. He did.”

  “Let’s look around anyway, okay?” Lisa, always the optimist, suggested. “Maybe he just moved them. Maybe you moved them. Shit, maybe I moved them,” even though that was never something Lisa would do. Still, Lisa was right, it was possible that things had gotten moved around. I was willing to search the place from top to bottom
before I believed fully that Oliver was a thief and a liar.

  As we searched the entire apartment from top to bottom, starting in the office and tearing it apart, I tried to imagine why Oliver would ever do such a thing. It was really more something that Ethan would do, if Ethan had been in my house and known about the research. That was the difference; Oliver knew about the research. He had found out about it, and, like an idiot, I had admitted to everything I had gathered. What started as an independent investigation had turned into me investigating Ethan, then Oliver, then the two of them, and now it was back to…” Who? Absolutely nothing, no one, because my research had disappeared.

  I continued to search ever room. I walked by the bathroom and Lisa was on her hands and knees, looking in the cabinet under the sink. I shook my head but didn’t say a word; it was certainly possible.

  “Maybe we have a ghost,” I said. “A research stealing ghost, hell bent on making sure that the evils of animal experimentation are alive and well and carried out with gusto at Neurotova.”

  “And that ghost just likes to hide things. You know, in the bathroom.” Lisa smiled. I appreciated her trying to keep the situation light… but, the truth was, she had no idea the seriousness of what losing that research would mean.

  I sat down on the couch in the living room and put my head in my hands. “I don’t know why I didn’t back everything up! I’m such a fucking idiot!”

  Lisa came to sit beside me. “You didn’t back it up because you didn’t want multiple copies of incriminating things. I get it.”

  “I’m going to call them both.” I started with Oliver. His phone rang though to his voicemail and I hung up before I left a message. I realized I had no idea what to say to him. I took a deep breath and looked at Lisa.

  “Just be straight with him,” she said. “Tell him that the research is missing and you’re wondering if he has it. That you need it back, and you need it back now.”