Authors: Maya Cross
After about thirty minutes, we pulled up in front of a small but modern looking house on a quiet, leafy street. At first glance it appeared utterly normal, but the biometric scanner on the front door and the bars over the windows hinted that this was something more than an average residence.
"They're bulletproof," he said, following my gaze. "The doors too." Reaching out, he thumbed the touch pad by the front door, and the lock clicked open. "Nobody is getting in here without the proper authorisation. And to even try, they have to deal with Tony and Aaron first. The whole house will be under round the clock surveillance."
Some of the tension I'd been carrying around inside me dissipated. The place certainly seemed as secure as he'd claimed.
The two guards stationed themselves outside, leaving the entire house to Sebastian and I. It was nice to finally feel like we had our own space again. Despite its size, the main house had, at times, felt cramped, and the pervasive air of concern and hostility had made it a less than pleasant living environment.
Sebastian produced some takeaway food from somewhere and we ate it sprawled out in front of the television, mocking the terribleness of the reality shows that seemed to dominate every network. It wasn't a particularly interesting evening by most standards, but I found myself laughing harder than I had in weeks. Leaving the Alpha headquarters had lifted a weight from my shoulders that I hadn't even realised I was carrying.
After dinner, Sebastian disappeared into the back of the house for a minute and returned carrying a box.
"I have something for you," he said, his tone once again serious.
"Oh?"
He opened the container to reveal a petite silver gun. My breath caught in my throat. "I want you to have this," he said, removing it and holding it out to me.
"Sebastian, I don't know the first thing about guns." Just the idea of having something so deadly in my hands filled me with an uneasy energy.
"I know. I'm not expecting you to go take out our enemies all by yourself. In truth, I doubt that you'll ever have to use it. I meant what I said about this place being secure. This is just a precaution, nothing more." He reached out with his free hand and cupped my chin, his thumb grazing my cheek with the utmost tenderness. "I can't be with you all the time, and the thought of not being here to protect you myself... please, it would make me feel better."
The concern in his eyes was enough to allay my hesitation. Gingerly, I reached out and took the weapon from him. It's cliché, but it was surprisingly heavy. The metal felt cold against my skin.
"This is the safety," he said, indicating near the trigger. "Don't switch that off unless you mean it. The gun carries thirteen rounds and is already loaded."
Closing my hands more tightly around the grip, I raised it slowly in front of me. I didn't have any illusions about my ability to actually hit anything, but I did feel a certain sense of comfort with that weight between my fingers.
"Okay." Holding death in my hand, I suddenly felt the need to make a joke. "You know, I'm pretty sure none of my friend's partners have ever given them a lethal weapon before. I'm surely the luckiest girl in the whole world."
The tension eased on his face. "I'm glad I could be your first."
"So, what else is there to do around this place?" I asked, setting the weapon aside. "You know, besides play with my new firearm."
"Not a whole lot." He grinned wickedly and slid closer, looping his hands under my legs and lifting them over his lap until I lay cradled in his arms. "Although I have a few ideas about how we can take advantage of our newfound privacy."
"Oh? And what might those be?" I replied as sweetly as possible.
He leaned in to brush a soft kiss across my cheek. "Well, I thought perhaps I'd see how many different rooms I could fuck you in."
"I think I'd like that very much," I replied, already feeling my pulse quicken.
Suffice it to say that there were no rooms left unchristened by the time we finally collapsed into bed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sophia
For a little while, the novelty of being somewhere fresh buoyed my mood. I explored the new house, and spent many hours pottering around with a glass of wine and a book. But soon enough, my frustration returned. Each morning, Sebastian would kiss me on the head and then disappear through the bedroom door, not returning until well after sundown. In many ways, he had little more freedom than me, but at least he had a mission. I, on the other hand, was left to simply float around, entirely without purpose.
I tried engaging the security guards in a little banter, but it quickly became apparently that all of the steroids must have burned their fun glands into oblivion. They were about as friendly as a pair of rocks, and even less interesting; I quickly abandoned all hope of alleviating my boredom through conversation.
At my request, Sebastian had brought me a laptop, so I turned to surfing job hunting websites online. I knew it was masochistic to taunt myself like that, but I couldn't help it. After a decade of thinking about nothing but my career, I couldn't just switch off that part of my brain. To be honest, I wasn't sure there were many other parts anymore. It turned out there were several positions going at top tier firms, including one at Little Bell's biggest rival. Any one of them would have been perfect for me, and I knew I stood a good chance if I decided to apply.
I stared at the screen for a while, before closing the laptop and setting it purposefully aside.
Well, there you go. Who knows, maybe they'll still be available in a few weeks and all this will have blown over.
But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd found. Getting back to work was exactly what I needed. With all day to myself, I couldn't help but dwell on my situation. Being unemployed and trapped in a house, with mysterious forces plotting God knows what all around me, was hardly a recipe for inner peace.
"You know, I'm going a little crazy here," I said the next day, when we were sitting in the lounge room after dinner.
He shot me a sympathetic look. "I know it's rough. Hopefully we'll have something soon. In the meantime, try to relax and enjoy the time off."
"Have you seen me try to relax?" I replied. "It's a train wreck. Yesterday I actually rearranged every book in the study by author name, just to feel like I'd actually achieved something for the day."
He laughed.
"Incidentally, you have an awful lot of cook books from the fifties in there. Anyway, relaxation isn't my M.O," I continued. "I need to be out there, getting my life back on track. The longer I wait to find another job, the harder it's going to be. I get that the situation is dangerous, but I want something to come back to when it's all over."
He stared at me for several seconds, a strange smile playing on his lips.
"What?" I asked, realising that something wasn't right. He shouldn't have been smiling.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, before standing up and walking over to his desk. "I was going to wait until after all of this was sorted out, but I guess there's no harm in showing you now."
"Showing me what?" I asked, feeling a rush of excitement.
He returned holding a small stack of paper.
"This," he said. "I know you have a thing about people helping you, but hopefully you can make an exception in this case."
With some trepidation I began to read, but before I'd made it more than half a page I found myself grinning like an idiot. "Oh my God," I said. "Where did you get these?"
"A friend of a friend," he replied nonchalantly.
"Well your friend struck gold," I said, flipping through several more pages. "My God, the partners are going to flip when they see this."
In my hands, I held a printout of a chain of emails that stretched back over several years. Sebastian and I were no strangers to a bit of written flirtation, but these took the idea of sexting to a whole new level. We're talking bad eighties porno script, and judging by the phrasing, it was just a prelude to what the couple were actually doing in the bedroom.
The email addresses weren't instantly familiar — they looked like personal accounts — but the signatures were.
Alan Beatie and Jennifer Smart.
"I thought you'd be pleased," Sebastian replied.
That was the understatement of the century. A long term relationship between an associate and her superior was already enough to land them in serious trouble, but this went a step further. Interspersed between the racier messages were numerous requests for favours and plenty of signs of preferential treatment. Judging by the dates, their arrangement had started before Jennifer was even promoted. It didn't take a genius to see how the other partners would view that. It felt like Christmas come early.
And then I spotted the coup de grace. "Holy shit." I held up one specific line for him to read. "Did you see this?"
He grinned and nodded.
Thank you for finally dealing with that little bitch Sophia. I'm sure I can think of a few creative ways to reward you ;)
It was morbidly gratifying to finally see her talk about me the way I always suspected she did. The prim, sweet girl that roamed our office building was nowhere in sight, here. These emails were Jennifer unfiltered, and it showed exactly what a nasty piece of work she really was. Although my name came up most frequently, she seemed to have a grudge against almost everyone who posed even a vague threat to her advancement up the ladder. For a brief moment, I actually felt bad for her, for being so insecure, but that was quickly crushed under a torrent of glorious satisfaction at knowing she was finally going to get what she deserved.
"I knew they couldn't have had a decent reason for firing you."
I nodded, still mesmerised by the words in front of me. "You think it'll be enough to get my job back?"
"Definitely. These make it pretty clear that there was more to your dismissal than the quality of your work."
I realised I was grinning like an idiot. "I'll go first thing tomorrow," I said, already playing the confrontation through in my head.
His expression dropped a fraction. "I'd rather you wait until we've dealt with our other problem. It's still dangerous out there."
For a second, I thought I'd misheard. "You seriously expect me to sit on this? Why give it to me at all?"
He shrugged uncomfortably. "You seemed upset. I thought it might make you feel better knowing you can wander back into Little Bell when this is all over."
"And what am I meant to do in the meantime? Keep twiddling my thumbs around here? Look, I'm not downplaying the risk. I know it's not safe, but the truth is, we have no idea how long this is going to take. Sure, it could be a week, but it could be a month, or two, or six. Who's to say they're even going to show their faces again, without an opportunity?" I closed my eyes briefly, trying to rein in my emotions. I felt like a hormonal teenage girl again, flitting from jubilant to angry to upset in the blink of an eye. "I need
something
Sebastian. Being stuck here is killing me — pardon the pun. Surely we can find a way to make it work? You go to and from work every day and you're still in one piece."
His jaw tightened and he glanced away. "That's true." He pondered for a while. "I'm sorry." Sliding closer, he pulled me against him and leaned down to kiss my hair. "I just find the idea of leaving you exposed terrifying. But you're right, this isn't fair on you. How about this: you go in there tomorrow and kick some ass, and once you have your job back, Aaron and Tony will take you to and from the office every day. As long as you don't leave the building, you'll be fine. Several thousand witnesses should be enough to deter anyone from trying anything."
I found myself grinning once more. "Not to mention building security. You, sir, have a deal." Snuggling in against his chest, I began reading over the emails again. "God, I can't wait to see her smarmy little face."
* * * * *
"Hello, Jennifer," I said in my sweetest voice, as I peeked my head around her door.
For a brief second, shock registered on her face, although it was gone in an instant. "Sophia. What a pleasant surprise. I thought you were still on leave."
"I was. I just dropped in to deliver something to Mr Bell."
Her brow furrowed. I think she could tell by my demeanour that something wasn't quite right, but she didn't know what. "That seems... unorthodox."
"Oh, I know. I wouldn't have bothered him, except I recently came into possession of some information that I knew he'd want to see."
"Oh?" She sounded uncomfortable, which only made my smile grow. I knew it was petty and childish, but it felt indescribably satisfying to finally be able to toy with her as she had so many times with me.
"Yeah. It's a bit of a scandal, actually." I leaned in close, as though sharing a secret with a friend. "Apparently, one of the partners has been fooling around with a senior associate. I got a look at the emails they've been sending each other. Some of the things they've been writing... well, graphic doesn't even began to describe them. But the worst part? He's been doing her all kinds of favours around the office. He even gave her a promotion after a weekend away together. Pretty shocking, right? You think your work is what's important, and then you hear about something like this. It's enough to make you sick."
The expression on her face was priceless. Her eyes were open so wide I thought they might pop out of her head, and her mouth worked soundlessly, as though she might somehow still be able to argue her way out of the situation. She looked like one of those rotating carnival clowns.
For a few seconds I simply stood and enjoyed. "Anyway, as you can imagine, Mr Bell is taking the matter very seriously. The partner is in with him right now I believe, and he should be calling the associate any moment. I can't imagine either of them have much longer with the company."
In a piece of spectacularly fortunate timing, at that exact moment, Jennifer's phone began to ring.