Black Gold

by Angelika Robinson

  Magnus nods grimly. He places a hand on my shoulder and seemingly thinks again about hugging me a second time. “Keep me updated. Your situation is a priority for me, Shaleigh. I can’t let you get placed in a dangerous situation. Now, the room’s already booked and paid for. You could do with the space.”

  “I could, but I don’t want to risk it,” I tell him. “But I can tell you now, if he tries shit at my home, he’s gonna be very surprised by the outcome.”

  I don’t know what it is I’m trying to do by making these sorts of threats. It’s not even as if I can follow up on them.

  “Okay,” Magnus says, about to enter his car. “The Australia deal is almost done, and I have to wine and dine them in Kazakhstan when we do a site visit for the proposed oil pipeline. I’ll only be in town for a few more days, so if you need my help, this is the best time. Please, Shaleigh. Do it for yourself.”

  Shaking my head again, I let him walk away.

  My first destination upon closing the house door behind me is the bathroom, so I can curl up on the floor and cry it all out under the rain-like wash of the shower. It helps, it always does.

  Toweling myself off, I rub the fog away from the mirror above the sink only to notice my phone is blinking with notifications.

  When I swipe to view the texts, I see a spam of threats from an unknown number. Dennis.

  Fuck.

  But the last message, which pops up a few seconds after I finish reading them all, isn’t even a text. It’s a photo.

  It’s grainy and bad, but I can see Magnus entering his car while I’m wiping my eyes.

  “Sweet dreams,” another text pops up.

  I switch my phone off in horror and spend the whole night unable to sleep, closing my eyes but failing to drift away.

  Chapter Thirty

  Work is the last thing I need today. My body is on edge. With zero sleep, I know that I’m nowhere near my usual level of performance. The best I can hope for is to keep it just competent enough that I don’t have to deal with someone like Cindy telling me off.

  The tasks on my to-do list are time consuming but at least they’re all perfectly easy to do on autopilot. I shuttle between the various departments as usual, bounce a few emails to the outer and inner secretaries when they need to be escalated, schedule calls.

  I’m reminded again of how Magnus is going to be away for three weeks finishing the Australia deal in what’s now become a grand tour of the Central Asian territories Boyd Industries intends to dominate.

  There’s a palpable sense of excitement among the people attached to this deal, and they can all sense the dark cloud that’s hanging over me.

  “You’re pushing yourself a little hard, Miss Shaleigh,” one of the sweethearts in Procurement says. “I know the manager said this has to be done before eleven, but he’s not going to mind too much if you take your foot off the gas and get it done an hour or two later.”

  I offer a wan smile and walk away, getting some documents from the printer and checking to make sure every page’s done.

  Magnus has not contacted me all day, and for some reason, I find that’s a good thing. Our minor reconciliation has given me a little bit of hope — but I know it’s only going to be tempered with the new reality of our awkward situation. Him not contacting me at least means he’s not going to say anything I’ll misread as patronizing.

  “Damn Magnus Boyd and all his money and cockiness,” I say to myself, and to my surprise, the jibe comes off with just enough lighthearted self-mockery that I’m realizing that immersing myself into work is always something helpful.

  Munching on a sandwich during my lunch break, I ignore my phone, decide against sitting with a colleague, and instead just stare into the window. The view of the city in front of me reminds me of the time Magnus told me he could buy the whole city if he wants.

  That’s not a man who’s got to worry about a criminal deputy trying to take him down. That’s a man whose sheer access to resources can destroy any threat that comes his way.

  I wonder if I’d be happier that way, being able to swat away any annoyance like it was a fly. For sure I’d feel the way Magnus feels — a big man who’s invincible. But it seems like there’s something there that would just seem so… distant. Soulless. Nobody wants to be untouchable.

  Then again, nobody wants to have a stalker ex make up criminal charges to bring you back.

  I’ve tried my very hardest not to think about my grandmother, about all the people I’ve left behind. When I made the decision to leave my abusive relationship, I tried to justify it with the knowledge that other people could take care of my grandmother, that her deteriorating mental state would mean any attempt to take her with me would make my own escape impossible.

  If I allow myself to think about that, the guilt I’d have would be too much to deal with. Dennis knows exactly what he’s doing by trying this on me. He knows just how to manipulate me into action.

  “Shaleigh,” a voice startles me.

  I turn around and see Cindy.

  “I’ve taken half of your tasks and delegated them to the rest of the girls,” she says in a motherly voice. “Once you’re done, you can head home a few hours earlier than usual. No need to work yourself to the bone here.”

  The boss’ right hand woman is a formidable force just on her own, and I try to scrutinize her emotions right now. Since my encounter with Dennis, I almost worry that she’s started looking at me different — in my worst, most anxious thoughts, I imagine her natural frown to be her passing judgement on me. Just another black girl who can’t help but attract trouble, I imagine her judging me.

  No, God no. That’s not Cindy.

  I have to take her at face value. There’s real kindness in her eyes, in the way she speaks to me. She cares about me. But it’s so easy to let myself just jump to the worst conclusions. “Thank you,” I eventually say.

  “I mean it, Shaleigh. You’re a credit to the company. You’ve got a lot on your mind. The least you could do is pace yourself better. Recharge your batteries once in a while.”

  There’s an implied criticism there, I know. I’m pushing myself too hard. You’d think that being on autopilot makes you work as little as possible, but the reality is, in my case, I always push myself to the best I can.

  In less than an hour I sigh and walk out the door, hailing a cab to take me straight home. It’s expensive, but at least I don’t have to try and figure out some complicated combination of walking and taking a bus.

  The taxi moves ever so slowly, despite the fact that it’s not even rush hour yet. Something is going on. I can hear sirens in the distance. Every time I hear them, my heart skips a beat. I imagine Dennis with his gun out, threatening to shoot me.

  I hate this.

  But my jaw drops when I see the cab inch towards my street. There’s smoke. A lot of smoke.

  My house is on fire.

  “Oh my God,” I blurt out, telling the driver to stop the car there. There are two fire engines blocking access to the street, and at least half a dozen firemen aiming the hoses towards the house.

  It’s bad. Really, really bad. The house is engulfed in flames.

  Phil! “Fuck, I hope he’s not in there!” I shout, throwing a bunch of bills to the driver as I rush to the house. A fireman has to hold me back.

  “Miss, miss, this is an active fire, you have to stay back! It’s too dangerous!” he shouts at me.

  “I don’t care, this is my house!” I say, trying to push my way through. “Is there anyone inside? Do you know if my roommate is there?”

  The fireman holds me by my shoulders in an attempt to stop me from evading him. He points toward a crowd of people all gawking at the fire. A quick glance tells me there’s no Phil.

  Dennis did this. I know it. This is arson, this isn’t some bullshit gas leak.

  Feeling the fight drain out of me as the fireman keeps me out of the perimeter, my shaking hands seek out my phone in my handbag. “Phil, Phil, Phil,” I murmur hi
s name like a mantra as I dial his number.

  He picks up.

  Oh, thank God.

  “Phil! Where are you?”

  “Just driving home, what’s going on?” he answers. His voice shifts as he detects the panic in my voice.

  I tell him all about the fire and there’s a silence on his end. “Jesus, Shaleigh. Do you think…”

  “Yes,” I answer him.

  “Dennis did this?”

  “It has to be.”

  “What a fucking psycho,” my roommate says. “Okay, I’m almost there. Where are you? Are you safe?”

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice raw. “I’ll… talk to you when you get here, okay?”

  I hang up because there’s a second call I want to make.

  I hesitate.

  On one hand, there’s the unknown number that Dennis has been using. I could call him, tell him I’m ready to take his deal. That I’d do anything to keep people I care about, like Phil, away from harm… even if it means having to return to my abuser.

  But the number I end up scrolling to is Magnus’.

  He picks up after two rings. “There’s been a fire,” I whisper. “My house. He’s… burned it all down.”

  “Dennis is going to pay,” Magnus says darkly. “I’m coming over right now.”

  After I place my phone back in my bag, Phil rushes to me from his parked car. “Oh my God, girl, I’m so happy you’re alright. How did this even happen? Oh my God, this is a disaster.”

  “I’m so sorry, Phil. I know all the stuff there was yours anyway,” I say. I don’t cry, because I have no tears left.

  We watch as the firemen finally manage to gain control of the scene, containing the fire just as the wild flames begin to lick the neighbors’ homes. Our house is black and ashy, the roof having collapsed, leaving the shape of the house twisted and perverted.

  There’s a sound overhead. A news helicopter probably broadcasting this live. Dennis is probably sitting in some motel miles away, giving that shit-eating grin as he watches the damage.

  Wait… that’s not a news helicopter.

  It begins to lower, preparing to land in the street, barely feet away from the perimeter line. The firemen are shocked to see it try that. “What the fuck is going on?” one of the captains yells, pointing to the helicopter.

  I can read the words BOYD INDUSTRIES painted on the sides.

  Magnus jumps out, smoothing his suit. The helicopter blades stop spinning, finally allowing me to speak to him.

  “What the hell are you doing, you can’t land a helicopter on a residential street!” I yell. “Magnus, seriously!”

  He rushes to me and hugs me tight. “So fucking what,” he says. “I’ll pay the fine, whatever it is. I just had to be there for you immediately.”

  The billionaire waves at his pilot and the helicopter lifts off again, clearing the street. My hair is an unkempt mess as the chopper leaves, and Magnus begins to smooth my hair down. It’s an intimate act. I hate that I’m resisting him so much.

  “This is too much,” Magnus says, looking past me to see the carnage. “You were wrong last night when you said he was only going to take action if he felt empowered… he was already empowered the moment he got here. He’s the ultimate coward. Now he’s going to get it.”

  “What are you even thinking here, Magnus?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Some sort of vigilante justice? You want to hire some mercenaries to shoot him dead, like this is some sort of gang movie? Be real.”

  Magnus shakes his head. “No, he’s going to get shafted the right way. He tries to abuse the law, so we’re going to show him what the law really means. I’m going to see to it that I lock him up.”

  The billionaire sounds confident even as he talks about revenge. I know it’s not that easy.

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” he says, pulling Phil into the conversation. “I offered for Shaleigh to stay at a hotel last night. Now you have no choice. You two are going to stay at my place. I’ve got plenty of bedrooms at my penthouse. There’s no problem at all here, you can stay for as long as you need. Please. I’m begging you both.”

  Phil looks at me, uncertain. “I don’t know…”

  “Don’t look at me, I don’t, either,” I say. It seems like a bother, like I’m imposing on the billionaire. The fire, the photo Dennis sent me last night, the meeting… I’m tired of having to fear for my life.

  I’m a strong woman, but that doesn’t mean I have to go this path alone. I can accept Magnus’ help.

  “No strings attached?” I offer, attempting a smile.

  “None whatsoever,” Magnus replies. “Besides, what could I possibly ask from you? Rent?”

  “And you’re sure Phil can come too?”

  “Of course,” the billionaire says, practically shocked I’m suggesting that he wouldn’t try to help my roommate. “It was his home who went up in flames too, you know. I want to help you both. And it doesn’t just end here. I’m going to help you get Dennis… before he tries anything stupid again.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Magnus, Phil and I are huddled around his massive teak dining table. This wasn’t there the first time I visited him. It blows my mind how rich he is that he can just fly in new furniture practically weekly.

  “We need to figure out a plan here,” I say before the billionaire opens his mouth. We’re Magnus’ guests, but I don’t want him thinking I’m going to let him dictate the playbook here. In the end, this is still my problem.

  And besides, he has zero obligation to me anyway.

  It’s not like we’re together.

  My heart hurts every time I have to think about that.

  “Alright,” Magnus nods. “You have plenty of resources. First up, I’ll make sure to get in touch with Phil’s insurance providers and tell them not to swindle you out of your claim. This is important. I’ll even send over some of the auditors at Boyd Industries to investigate everything that’s lost. It’s possible that Dennis may have stolen stuff from the house too.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Phil mutters.

  “If you want, I can get in touch with a few friends… who happen to be federal judges. A restraining order is easy enough to get. But that’s not going to be enough, of course. We know he’s not the kind of guy who cares about the law.”

  Magnus pours out three cups of coffee. It smells amazing — some exotic Colombian bean, no doubt, made from his five-figure coffee machine.

  “I’d like that,” I finally say. “This way I know that if he tries anything again, the consequences will be a whole lot greater.”

  “Exactly,” Magnus nods. “And next, a Boyd subsidiary does traffic light camera work for City Hall. It’s not impossible for me to petition the mayor to release some of those recordings, so we can trace Dennis to the scene of the crime. Right now we’re guessing it’s him who did it, so it’s important we nail the bastard.”

  Phil reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Thank you so much, Magnus. I can’t believe he’d go this far.”

  “And lastly…” Magnus says before letting his words trail off.

  “Yes?” I prompt him.

  The billionaire offers me a private smile. “I’ll cook you both dinner. All that panic might make me feel like you’re not hungry, but trust me, you need some food in you.”

  He’s being flirty again, and I’m fully impressed that he can do that when we’re in such a shitty situation. “Okay,” I say, trying to match his smile. It’s hard for me… but I appreciate his attempt.

  “So, what’s cooking, Mr Hunky Chef?” Phil says, practically leaping off the seat to drink in the sight of Magnus’ beautiful penthouse.

  “Spaghetti bolognese, a simple but reliable recipe,” he answers. He’s looking straight at me. Of course I know what he’s saying here — for all his complexities, going back to the recipe he cooked for me on our date together… there’s something special between us that’s important for us to get back to.

  “It’s delicious,” I second him
, telling Phil. “You know, I’ve had it before.”

  “Sounds sexy,” Phil gives us both a thumbs-up each. “Funny how as much as I’m enjoying all these luxuries… I’m still really bummed out that I’ve lost everything I own.”

  “It’s not too late to go to Plan B, either,” Magnus quickly offers. I shoot him a look. What’s Plan B? “I could get a team of my security guys to beat Dennis up. Just beat the shit out of him. These are ex-Israeli commando types. They’d know how to hurt him without leaving a single mark. If he files a report, it would be his word against mine… and all my federal judge friends’ words too.”

  “Let’s not do that,” I insist. As much as I’m baying for blood, I know I can’t stoop to Dennis’ level. Even if I have the buffer of Magnus doing it for me.

  “But there is a solution that makes use of that, actually,” I slowly come up with an idea. “Yeah, it might actually work…”

  Magnus turns to face me, leaving the kitchen briefly. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ve known Dennis all my life. He’s always been hovering around, a bully practically from birth. We know he’s a coward, but we also know he’s not afraid to show up and hide behind authority. Maybe we can turn that to our advantage.”

  “Go on…” Magnus says. I lower my voice, not wanting Phil to hear this — but my roommate is busy inspecting Magnus’ bookcases anyway.

  “He’s not used to being one-upped by anyone. It’s not like there was anyone who could do that to him back home. So you shouldn’t have to act like an invisible puppet-master, Magnus. If you make it seem like you’re willing to fight Dennis off yourself, he’ll take the bait.”

  “Years of intense gym training means I can actually do that, too. Without taking a single punch, I bet,” Magnus says, grinning.

  “No, you don’t actually need to face him off — you just need to make him think you’re going to settle this caveman style. He’s full of dirty tricks, he’ll find an advantage one way or another. So our job is to trick him first.”