Disgrace (37 page)

“I tried to catch you before your morning meeting, but I must have just missed you anyway, Um…well, I wanted to thank you, and I wanted to apologise.” She rushes her words, her hands are clasped in front of her, threaded together and twisting. Her feet shuffle like she can’t physically keep still. She is clearly anxious to leave, but she
chose
to come here. She could’ve said what she wanted to say in an email, as if reading my inscrutable face and mind, she starts to talk.

“I realise I could’ve put this in a letter, but I wanted to say it to your face.” She struggles to swallow, and I almost feel sorry for her obvious disquiet. “However awkward and painful it is, and believe me, this is really painful.” She tries to laugh, but it falls flat. She shakes herself and straightens her back. “I behaved appallingly and I hope you can forgive me.” She nods to punctate and finish her point.

“It’s not my place to forgive you, Peitra.” I narrow my glare.

“No, no, I know, and I hope in time Sam will be able to forgive me.” Her eyes drop to her hands, but her lips start to curl. She is beginning to really piss me off.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.” I snap. Her eyes widen with surprise, maybe she is genuine, but more than likely, she is looking for another opportunity. I won’t make that mistake again. “Is there anything else?” I have already dismissed her in my mind as I open up my laptop and swipe my finger to unlock the screen.

“No, nothing at all. Just if in the future…” She pauses, her soft breathy statement hangs pungent in the air. I fix my incredulous glare, and she withers a little.

“What the fuck! Seriously?” I glower. She hurries for the door, but her parting remark is as snide as it is cryptic.

“Things change, Jason.” The door slams and I actually sink back in my chair relieved that she’s gone.

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” The young waiter with the trimmed goatee and full sleeve tats has read back our lunch order but I am just checking my phone, leaving Will to confirm our selection.

“Just drinks, two beers and a vagina for my brother.” He addresses the waiter with a level voice and a deadpan delivery. I look up at Will, who is looking in all seriousness at the waiter. The waiter has lifted his pen from his pad mid word. I can see from here he was well on his way to writing the word vag when it must have registered what he was writing.

“I’m sorry sir, what was it you wanted?” His face is a picture of confusion, poor guy.

“Oh, my mistake. You see my brother here has turned into a massive teenage girl and all that’s missing is the actual vagina.” The waiter grins, and I reach over and discreetly nut punch Will, wiping the grin from his face and bringing a slew of tears to his eyes. I turn to face the waiter while my brother coughs and curses, but he has made a hasty retreat.

“You’re so fucking funny, Will. You know that waiter actually started writing that down. You’re such an arse.” I go to flick the cover on my phone for the hundredth time but stop myself when I catch a glance of his righteous and overtly smug face.

“Truth hurts, baby brother, but I can’t say I blame you. She is smoking hot.” Will takes the beer the waiter places in front of him and downs half in one go. I do the same and exhale. He is partially right; she probably hasn’t even finished her interview yet. She promised she would call when she was done. I just don’t want to miss her call in case she doesn’t get the job and needs me. It’s crazy to think she wouldn’t get the position, but I still don’t want to miss her call. I absently tap the closed phone cover. The volume is on high and vibrate so I won’t miss her call.

“She’s all that and more.” I take another sip of the iced beer that is sliding down way too easy for this time of the day.

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Will flashes a brilliant wide smile. His tan is much darker than mine. All those hours in the Florida sun counting turtles or fish or whatever the fuck he does. “I’m happy for you man, but how long are you gonna last in a one on one relationship?” he challenges with a tilt of his head and a knowing smile. Apart from a few years Will spent in the wilderness, we are tight. I trust him with my life, and he knows me. He may not share my tastes to the same extent, but he is far from vanilla.

“Who says I am?” I counter his smugness with my own. He balks and barks out a deep laugh.

“Yeah, right…You are not the cheating type, so what gives?” He narrows his eyes at my silence. “I know she was at your club, but you can’t be serious…she plays?” He shifts in his seat and turns to face me fully, his expression alight with surprise and disbelief.

“
We
play.” I correct. “It’s early days. I know she is game but honestly I’m not sure I am…not with her.” I try to shrug off my statement but he splutters, making it much more of a deal than I wanted to discuss over a late lunch.

“What! You’re kidding?” His eyes widen with surprise.

“I’m not. I saw the way she looked at you, and I could just about control my rage because it’s you. The thought of anyone else touching her, and all I see is red mist. Hell, I am ready to do time for that woman.” I laugh but I’m deadly serious.

“Fuck, you’re totally screwed.” Will chuckles and clinks his glass to mine.

“Yeah, I am.” I grin and join him with a more relaxed, deep belly laugh.

“Damn, so no sharing, hmm?” Will muses playfully.

“Now, I didn’t say that, did I?” I bite my lips to stop my own grin, but Will’s is wide enough for the both of us.

“I think you did.” He corrects but his brows are arched high with excited expectation.

“No, I said I didn’t like the
idea
of sharing. But the whole threesome thing is a fantasy of hers. Something she’s never done, and that is definitely something I want to give her.” Will’s grin spreads even wider, and I fight the tiny embers of jealousy that flicker inside. I check myself. This is my choice after all. I could do this for her with someone I trust…
maybe
. We finish our meal and catch up. I haven’t seen him in months, but it’s like I saw him yesterday. I promise to take Sam out to visit, and he promises to take us both out for a spin in one of the Coast Guard high speed boats. He has been seconded to them to help with illegal trade in tropical fish. I knew he did something with fish. The food was good and the conversation has kept me distracted. I check my watch, the time approaches six o’clock, and I only now think to check my phone.

No messages.

I get a sinking feeling that this can’t be good. She really wanted the job at the Mission. I
really
wanted her to get this job for purely selfish reasons. I hate to contemplate the consequences of not getting it and the possibility that she would doubt her choice and return to her career as a Dominatrix.

“Still no messages.” I flick the phone shut at his observation. “She could be out celebrating.” Will tries to comfort me.

“She would’ve called if that was the case. Look, do you mind if we swing by her place? If she hasn’t called, it’s probably not good news.” I slide out from the curved bench and fish in my pocket for my wallet.

“Wouldn’t she call you with that too though?” Will replaces his when I tip more than enough bills in to the centre of the table.

“No. She wouldn’t want to ruin your night.” I grab my jacket and pass him his from the hook on the edge of the booth.

“Why would it ruin my night?”

“Because I would bail on you, you fucking idiot!” I shake my head. “Christ, it’s a good job you got some of my looks, because you sure struck out in the brains department.”

“Cute and it’s a good job I got the lion’s share in the junk department, because your girl is going to need me now, since you’ve traded in your dick in for lady parts.” His shoulders start to shake with amusement.

“Arsehole.” I punch him in his shoulder, catching him hard but he laughs then curses and rubs the impact spot. His laughter is now uncontrollable, but he does get out one last comeback.

“Thundercunt.”

I burst out laughing at his insult. “I like that…I might get a t-shirt.” I join his laughter now as we leave the restaurant and head toward Sam’s apartment.

I wait impatiently for Sam to buzz me in, checking my phone one more time. I can see Will shake his head in my periphery but I don’t care. The buzzer sounds and I push through and immediately start pounding on her front door. The large shadow that appears on the other side of the split glass panelled door makes my heart sink. Leon swings it wide, half asleep and running his hand through his hair. I push past, not bothering with an introduction.

“Jesus man, don’t you own a shirt?” I mutter.

“I just woke up.” I hear him yawn.

Sam’s room is empty. Several outfits are laid out on her bed where she’d obviously been choosing what to wear for her interview. I get a tight pinch in my chest thinking how my confident girl must have actually been quite nervous given the number of clothes strewn across the bed and hanging off the wardrobe doors. I can’t actually see the covers underneath. Nothing else seems out of place though. I turn sharply and walk back to the front door where Leon is rubbing his eyes and staring blankly at Will.

“Leon, this is Will.” My introduction is curt, and I nod to motion Will to follow me into the flat. Will shakes Leon’s hand they chat about something or nothing but end up beside me in the living room.

“Where is she?” I snap. Leon looks at his watch, and his brows start to furrow. He looks up at me, and his face pales. It’s not that late, I know. She could just as easily have met a friend and got caught up catching up. So why does Leon look ill?

“Leon, where the fuck is she?” He doesn’t answer but strides off to his room. He returns instantly with his phone. He silently flicks through, and I can feel my bubbling anger begin to rise. “For fuck sake, Leon, where is she?”

“I don’t know, man. I just wanted to check if she’d texted. The last one I got was her asking me to wish her luck.”

“Before her interview, so that would be what, three twenty?” I rub the pressure that is building in my temples.

“No, one twenty five just before her lunch with Peitra.” Leon’s words are like a sucker punch, but they make no sense.

“What are you talking about?”

“She texted you, Jason. I saw her do it. She forwarded the message Peitra had sent her about wanting to apologise. She offered to take Sam to lunch, her way of saying sorry.” Leon’s tone would have irritated me if he didn’t look so fucking worried.

“She never sent me a text. I haven’t heard from her since this morning when I gave her a kiss goodbye. What the fuck are you talking about?” I yell.

“Okay, okay, why don’t we all just take a breath and calm the fuck down.” Will steps in, he places a calming hand on my shoulder, and as much as I want to shrug him off, losing it now will not help. I take the suggested deep breath and walk over to the kitchen. I perch on the edge of one of the stools. This makes no sense, but my gut starts twisting uncomfortably all the same. I open my phone and start scrolling. It’s possible she may have emailed me the message and not texted. It’s possible it could’ve gone into my junk folder, but even as I quickly scour the screen for her familiar username, I know that isn’t the case.

“I didn’t get her message.” My flat voice holds none of the raging emotions surging through me. I need to hold this together. I need to find Sam.

“She sent it I swear—”

“I believe you, Leon,” I interrupt. I can see Leon looks just as worried. “Peitra was in my office just before lunch. I checked my phone at the time and there was nothing, no missed calls but I didn’t check the deleted folder.” Leon peers over my shoulder.

“But your deleted folder is empty?” He points to the little waste bin icon with the content counter at zero.

“No, I didn’t check the other deleted folder. Anything that gets deleted goes to a hidden folder.” I tap Tax codes folder and my screen fills with hundreds of lines of data. “It’s not really hidden just labelled Tax Codes no one would actually want to open that folder.” I shrug when Leon adds his agreement. “Anyway the point is nothing is ever really deleted but only a few people know that. Daniel is a little OCD when it comes to security, and I can’t tell you how fucking glad I am that he is…look.” I tilt the screen, which now holds Sam’s message along with her question that if I thought she shouldn’t go, to text her right back.
Fuck
. I quickly search my phone for the tracker on her cuff and can see it’s still active which unfortunately gives me little comfort. It doesn’t necessarily mean she is safe. It does mean her cuff, at least is in one piece and is still at the address she was meeting Peitra. Like I say, not much comfort.