“For me, no. Never. For the police, you might want to.”
“I will.” His bright smile pops into place. I can see there’s a lack of sincerity hidden in it, but that’s because it’s not a smile I’m accustomed to. “I’m going to talk to them. You’ll be fine here?”
“I’ll be fine. I always am.”
He nods and leaves me with Kimberly, whose shirt is wet from tears, biting her nails, and looking around nervously. “He said he wanted to see me exclusively earlier tonight.”
She worked with this man for years. How? Why would she want to be exclusive with him? I look her straight in the eyes so she’s very clear on the situation. “He was going to rape me before he was caught.”
Her mouth drops open, her hand covering it as tears fill her eyes again. She’s crying because the bastard who was her boss is dead. A boss she’d been sleeping with. A boss who’d kicked out a different woman from his home not a week before. She wanted an exclusive relationship with a monster. A monster capable of depravity I only thought existed in movies. He threatened me, lured me to that damn party. He tried to rape me . . . “I just expected to be inside her when you walked in.” He wanted Alexander to see me being defiled . . . Oh God. Oh God. “I want you to watch.” Alexander had used those words. He’d wanted me to watch the school tramp being fucked by another man.
Am I . . .
Am I in love with a monster? Am I no different than Kimberly? Blind? Ignorant?
I look at Kimberly and I feel numb.
No more.
Not her tears.
Not April’s.
Not mine. I can’t take anymore. My emotions detach, something Alexander always wanted for me, yet something I never wanted. Looking down I see remnants of Alexander’s father’s blood, hair, and something I’m praying to God is not part of his brains caught in the fold of the dress at my chest. A breath is sucked in when the air around me begins to thin.
Then another. Serrated like the knife that’s destroyed my fairy tale.
I’m not okay.
I look around—the chaos, the police, Alexander, Cruise, the employees here for a party. A party. Where their boss committed suicide.
I’m not okay.
My head is light, my thoughts subdued and fuzzy around the edges. I take a deep breath and leave Kimberly there, not able to help another soul, not sure if I can even help myself. I walk toward the door and push it open. Police officers and paramedics are filing out of the elevators, and I step aside to let them pass. No one says anything to me, so I step on the elevator and push the button for the lobby, wanting air that’s not contaminated by death and surrounded by hate.
The instrumental version of some past pop hit plays through the elevator intercom. Staring into my eyes in the reflection of the silver doors, I’ve lost the life that once lived there. I’ve lost who I am.
The door opens and I walk. Just walk.
“Miss?” I look at the officer at the desk. He’s not much older than I am. His uniform is crisply ironed and the light from a lamp on the desk reflects off his wedding band. “No one is allowed to leave the scene until we’ve gotten statements.”
I wonder how he decided to fight for others. When did he decide to protect and serve so selflessly? What’s his wife like? Does he have kids? Is he living the life I thought I would live? Predictable as Alexander calls it?
“Miss? Are you okay?”
No. I’m not okay. “Yes. I’m just going to smoke a cigarette and then I’ll be right back.”
He nods, seeming to understand the need. I push through the door and walk into the night. The area is blocked off. Police, firemen, and paramedics race around—in and out of the building. Reporters push to get in, and I sneak around a cameraman and walk away from the scene.
Away from this nightmare.
Away from this life.
I’m not okay.
23
Alexander
Staring out the window, I wonder where she is.
My Firefly finally flew away.
Part of me finds an inner joy in the knowledge that she was strong enough to save herself. The larger part of me, definitely my more selfish side, misses my soul mate.
I’ve watched the videos countless times. The security camera shows Sara Jane walking out of the office and through the lobby. Once she reached the garage, she took her car and disappeared No one has heard from her since, except her parents. Once.
It was clear they weren’t going to tell me her whereabouts, if they even knew where she was. I didn’t ask. I knew I’d go after her, but she left for a reason.
Over a month later I’m still in limbo. I can’t seem to let her go. Despite the chaos of working through the mess my father left behind, she consumes my days. My nights are lost to memories of her, and us. So many years spent living for the wrong reason when I had the right reason to live all along.
A knock draws my attention from the view to the door. Kate, a beautiful blonde assistant hired for the transition to replace Kimberly, stands in the doorway. Her skirt is tight. Her heels sky high. Her lips are red, drawing the bees to the honey. The thin belt that wraps around her emphasizes the curve of her waist. “The movers will be here shortly, Mr. Kingwood. The car is downstairs. It’s time for us to go.”
With my hands flat on the glass surface of my father’s desk, I stay seated in his chair a minute longer. Blood still covers the carpet, the evidence remaining when other signs of that night are gone, like Firefly. I stand. “Thank you, Kate.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
She thinks I’m that guy. The one who likes to play daddy to a pretty sugar baby. She thinks her flirting is subtle when it’s not. She thinks she has a shot when she has none.
A month ago that response would have been quicker, that thought immediate. These days I’m not so sure I should be closed off to attractive opportunities. My future with Sara Jane is unknown. Do I hold out hope that she’ll return just like the firefly she’s named after? Or do I move on?
I walk out of my father’s office and through the sea of empty cubicles, the silence of the executive offices, and the stilted air that lives long after his death. The employees have moved on with hefty severance deals and the bulk of the company is locked up in legal battles, everyone coming out of the woodwork wanting their share. One million here. Five million there. The remaining pieces of it sold below market. I don’t care. My wealth is beyond Kingwood Enterprises. The dirty dealings of Daddy Dearest will eventually be put to rest. In the elevator, she undoes her top button and runs the tips of her fingers along her collarbone. “What if we grabbed a drink together?”
Blatant.
I lean against the opposite wall, angling my head as her fingers slide farther down until another button comes undone. “What would happen if we did?”
The question confuses her at first, but she catches on quickly. Her smile is as pretty as her gray-green eyes. “I could take your mind off things for a while.” She moves closer and touches my shirt, her fingertips slipping between two buttons.