by Lannah Smith
Of course, not. Alec might be working for Christopher but he genuinely cared for him.
"He doesn't listen to me. He never listens. And that's because he's a masochistic shithead. He'd probably prefer a woman who'd punish him, mess him up and step all over his basic human rights."
My eyelid twitched. "And you think I'm that kind of woman?"
"Don't get your hopes up, Miss Locke," he told me somberly. "Because you're so much more normal than what I was expecting."
All the breath escaped from my lungs at that.
Because living this kind of life, I was never normal. Never been called normal when all I wanted was to be normal.
Alec walked around to get past me to the door, saying in a hard voice, "Do your best in trying to sway him. Just try not to get too carried away. You got me?"
Then he left the room.
Still, stunned, all I could do was stand there, thinking how protective he was of Christopher and not just because he was his employee. I knew they were friends back in high school. Actually, Alec was more of a minion than a friend back then. But I never thought Christopher would keep him by his side until now.
There was a lot of things I didn't know anymore.
And it was irritating me because the need to know was fast becoming a greater need than the need to escape.
Damn this curiosity.
And damn it all.
I couldn't convince Alec to help me. I was on my own. I had no choice then. I should do something about this myself.
My hands curled tight when my decision was made.
I had to break Christopher again.
"What did she say?" Christopher asked.
Alec gave him a look of pure ice then slammed the door behind him. Pulling a sip from the can of coke in his hand, Christopher sat behind his desk, watching Alec sit at the smaller desk by the bookshelves.
"What did she say?" he repeated.
"She’s pissed," Alec answered without looking away from the screen of his laptop. "She’s pissed at you but took it out on me. So don’t piss me off."
"But you’re already pissed," Christopher observed.
"The hell I am.” Alec paused to read whatever it was on his laptop. Then he glanced up and Christopher noted that his right-hand now had a smirk on his face.
“What?” Christopher frowned.
“I have just received more information about Daniel Grant."
"Not interested," he muttered, leaning his head back on his desk chair and closing his eyes.
The smirk grew. "You may not be interested but I am."
What more did he need to know?
Christopher exhaled angrily and opened his eyes to the ceiling.
Daniel Grant was the son of one of Edward Locke's runners. That runner allegedly got killed while doing Edward’s dirty work when Dan was thirteen. The wife was given a shitload of money as compensation, enough to make sure she and her son could live in comfort for the rest of their lives.
"Aren't you interested how close April and Grant was?" Alec's smirking tone broke into his thoughts.
Giving Alec a dark look, he muttered, "No.
"Are you sure?"
Jesus, did Alec conveniently forget he’d aggravated the situation between Christopher and April when he made that fucking remark about holding her? Did he forget Christopher threatened him with major bodily harm if he pissed him off again?
"Definitely," Christopher clipped. "And the man had a wife."
"And a child," Alec supplied. "Still, a wife doesn't really stop a man from having an affair, right? But they were just friends," he immediately rushed to say when Christopher slammed the can of coke on his desk. His lips twitching, Alec continued, "April and Grant already knew each other since they were children because of their fathers. After the funeral, they apparently grew close as she consoled him through his grief."
Christopher kept his glower on Alec. As good as Alec was with his job, he was also a massive pain in the ass.
"I'm sure Rohan had told you about him," Alec went on. "Wasn't Dan the guy who April asked to keep watch over Rohan when he started school in North High?"
"He was," Christopher grudgingly agreed. As much as Christopher wanted to hate the guy for taking April away from him, Dan was a good guy from what he was told. And he kept April safe and kept her alive all these years. So he had Christopher's gratitude for that.
"Your phone's ringing," Alec pointed out and Christopher slid his gaze to his phone on his desk.
Looking at the screen, he fortunately held himself back before he could chuck his cell phone at Alec's head.
“I probably should have told you that Hannah had been calling you for the past hour,” Alec informed him, amusement laced in his tone.
The son of a bitch should have mentioned it earlier.
“She’s also been blowing up my phone but like I told you, I don’t answer her calls. So I’d appreciate it if you answer hers already.”
"Do you seriously want me to answer this?" he asked incredulously at Alec who was already on his way to the door.
“That’s up to you, sir.”
“fucking hell, you’re useless,” Christopher growled when the door closed. Sliding his thumb on the screen, he put the phone to his ear, bracing himself.
It wasn’t long coming.
“Where are you?”
shit. Hannah sounded pissed.
“I’m in New Orleans,” he answered.
“You know you can't bullshit me.”
"Then let me keep my location a secret," he told her quietly.
She didn't answer for a long moment.
Then she said, “And April? Where is she?”
He knew he couldn’t lie to her like he did to his other friends. But it didn’t mean he had to tell her the truth either.
“Another secret that I want to keep,” he said in a firm tone.
Once again, she turned quiet.
"Are you safe?"
He closed his eyes, thankful that for once that she was minding her business. "I am, Hannah."
That was all she needed to hear.
"Anyway, you heard that Sophia and Leon are staying right?"
The tension that wrought in his body eased. "Yeah, I heard."
"Guess what?” Hannah began to talk excitedly. “Sophia let us come with them to the OB and we saw the baby move during the ultrasound! It was so adorable, I swear!"
And probably the most spoiled once Sophia gives birth to her, Christopher thought in amusement.
"I might have cried a little," she admitted. "I'm just so happy for Sophia and Leon. I think I pissed Leon off though because I didn't want to leave the room to give them a little privacy."
Chuckling, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
And as per usual, he listened as Hannah let him catch up with the lives of his best friends that he left behind.
Chapter 25
I woke up in cold sweat, rapidly sitting straight up on the bed.
My heart pounded loudly and furiously in my chest. I slumped over, my hands pressed to my chest because it felt painful. Too painful. I couldn’t breathe. But I knew it wasn’t because of my old illness. It was because of a dream.
I inhaled and exhaled shakily.
It wasn't because of Dan. For once, I didn't dream of him. My dream... my nightmare was something else altogether. A memory of the past. A secret that still haunted me. The knowledge that burdened and terrorized me up to this day.
Then I felt the presence in the room before I felt the hand on my forehead.
Slapping it weakly away, I lifted my gaze to see Christopher hovering over me.
"Your temperature is a bit high," he muttered with a frown.
I glanced at the time. Two minutes past four in the morning. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands. Sweat still clung to my skin and my breathing had yet to return to normal.
"Here. Drink some medicine."
Again, I slapped his hands away. I didn't want him ne
ar me. I didn't want him caring for me.
"April," he said my name in a long-drawn sigh. The bed depressed when he sat next to me. "You need to take your medicine. Your heart…"
"I'm fine," I mumbled.
"Honey..."
My head came up and I shouted, "I'm fine!"
He didn’t let my near hysterics faze him. My eyebrows pulled together in bewilderment when he grabbed my hand to put the pills on my palm.
"You're not. You're feverish. Take this medicine now." His tone brooked no argument but despite all that, I was feeling argumentative.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" I breathed.
A muscle jerked in his cheek.
"I'm going to ask why after you take your fucking medicine."
His tone, this time, sounded like he was at the end of his patience coupled by the most chilling expression on his face.
“And I swear to God, if you don’t, I’ll turn you over my knee.”
My mouth dropped open for a moment then my eyes narrowed at his own hard glittering ones. Deciding he was not making an idle threat, my fingers curled over the pills and I popped them in my mouth, swallowing dry.
“Happy?” My eyes went back to narrowing glacially at him.
His eyes flashed in response. “For now, yes.”
“You’re fucking unbelievable.”
I watched his gaze drop to my lips and frowning, he said, “It doesn’t feel right to hear you curse.”
Forcing out a saccharine sweet smile, I, in turn, said, “fuck you.”
His expression grew dark again and something vaguely dangerous flashed in his eyes.
Giving me one of his sudden, disturbing smiles, he edged in closer in a predatory manner. “I would love to, honey.”
At that moment, I was reminded of what I was wearing. A thin, silk nightgown. And what reminded me of that were my nipples, which had hardened, pressing against the silk at his words.
I must be freaking crazy. He was making me crazy.
Lifting my hands, I pushed him away and moved to get down the bed. His large hand closed around my arm and at his touch, I drew in a ragged breath.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom, you perverted lunatic!” I snapped at him.
That was apparently an acceptable reason to let me go. “The floor is cold. Don’t forget to put your slippers on.”
Resisting the urge to let out a loud groan of frustration, I jumped out of the bed, sliding my feet into the slippers by my bed, and stomped to the bathroom.
I thought I heard him chuckle before I slammed the door behind me. Leaning my back against the wood, I heaved a sigh. The skin of my upper arm tingled where his fingers gently held. It was making me angry that I felt myself respond to him. But I’d rather die than give show him any reaction. Christopher would enjoy knowing he was affecting me. I’d rather die than give him that much power. So I had to cut and run.
Damn it. I was such a wuss.
Then guilt crept up to me when I remembered my nightmare, cooling my raging hormones.
Damn it.
My hands began to shake and I curled them tight into fists. Bringing one of them to my forehead, I shut my eyes close.
I was a fool for allowing him to affect me like that. I messed up, allowing myself to be affected by him.
This knowledge seeped into my bones, bitter and shaming. I hated him so much. But I hated myself more for that. Unwanted, disconnected memories flashed through my head and my face crumpled.
I was such a fool.
Knowing that if I stayed too long in the bathroom that Christopher would grow impatient, I composed myself, steeling myself, and turned around to open the door. When I went out, he was back on his chair. His glasses were on top of his laptop. And his gaze was on me.
I didn’t let my eyes linger on him. I glanced at the laptop, planning, as I made my way back to my bed. If only I could find a way to be able to use it, then there was a great possibility that I could get out of here. But for the meantime, I couldn't access any phones. I couldn't access the internet. And that wasn’t for lack of trying. The study was my best bet of reaching both but sneaking out of my room even at night proved to be difficult. Christopher still sat guard at the corner and until I stopped screaming, he would never stop. And damn if I wasn't trying hard enough not to.
“The dawn is breaking,” I muttered, slipping into the covers but I didn’t lay down just yet. “Get out.”
“If you say please,” was his response.
That son of a—
I threw him the coldest glare I could muster. I was working myself into a rage but he did not even blink. He was almost lounging on the chair, his upper lip curved in a line of pure arrogance.
“Check your temperature,” he went on, jerking his chin at the digital thermometer on my bedside table. “If you do, nicely and quietly,” he put great emphasis on both words nicely and quietly as he spoke, “then I’ll get out.”
I didn’t say anything and just stared at him. Realizing that, he grinned.
“I guess you don’t really want me to get out—.”
“What do you really want from me, Christopher?” I cut him off, asking quietly.
He studied me, rubbing his chin in thought, scratching the stubbly growth of his beard. I could see his mind was working and I knew that this could prove troublesome.
"I only want your love,” he muttered in a low voice. “If not for the possibility that we might see each other again, I would have died tragically from a broken heart."
He wasn't taking me seriously.
"A broken heart?” I scowled. “Don't make me throw up."
“We’re only going into circles over and over again, April. You won’t change my mind about you."
My brows went up. "Are you that deprived of love to come seek for it from me? From childhood until now... You're just like a dog, wagging your tail back and forth in front of me. Don't you find it tiresome?"
He shrugged, his lips struggling to hold back a grin. "I guess that's just love."
I drew in an angry breath at his nonchalance. "Love? Ha! Don't make me laugh. Those were just your misguided feelings. I was all you had back then. And you didn’t want me to leave you. That wasn’t love and is still isn’t now. You're just obsessed with me.”
He looked at me and didn’t answer.
“Truthfully? You were boring. And I pitied you. But you turned out to be so darn clingy I had to stop that farce.”
This time, he didn’t hold back his grin. I didn’t know what he found funny. But I knew this reaction didn’t bode well for me.
“You were always so stupid,” I hissed at him.
Christopher merely inclined his head forward in agreement. “And you were always so stubborn.”
I couldn’t give up here now. Not when I had just barely made a dent on him.
Throwing my hands up in exasperation and desperation, I said, “Then if you love me, you’ll set me free. You’ll let me go.”
Immediately, I regretted it when he burst out laughing. “I guess I don’t love you that much then.”
Good God, he wouldn’t budge. Insulting him was useless. Making him guilty, as well.
So I decided to change my plan.
If I needed to do this, I needed to do this now.
"I fucked Leon."
His laughter died.
"I fucked your best friend."
Examining his face, my heart sank at what I saw.
It would have been better if Christopher had gotten angry. But instead, his expression turned strangely contemplative, calmly returning my gaze like my words were nothing to him.
Sleep was forgotten as anger and hurt swept through me then.
"Do you want me to tell you how he fucked me?” I asked tersely. “Or how many times we did it?"
He suddenly smiled. It was the kind of smile that sent chills down my spine.
