Chapter 3
AISLYNN
Things took a weird turn the morning after Pagan left my apartment.
The thought of going to work made me feel physically sick. After what happened the day before, the notion of having to face Richard Sketch and my colleagues made my knees turn to Jell-O.
Pagan told me I shouldn’t have any more problems with my boss, and a tiny part of me was curious as to what had happened after Bootneck and the other brother went up to the office.
Maybe I’d walk into bedlam, and it was likely I wouldn’t have a job to go back to, but it was better to get the confrontation out of the way.
If I sat at home, I’d only worry myself sick regardless.
Usually, I loved the short stroll heading northeast into RiNo. Crossing the area between I-25 and I-70 took me straight into the midst of street art, breweries, and restaurants, where I spent most of my free time with my friends.
I needed something strong to face the shitty day I knew I was about to have, and a vodka was out of the question, so I headed to Blue Sparrow Coffee to grab a latte. As soon as I walked in, I saw two of my friends sitting in the corner, giggling with each other.
Kerry was a receptionist, while Jada worked as a PA for one of the senior architects. They were nice girls, and they often invited me to go out with them on weekends, so I knew them pretty well.
Jada saw me and immediately stood, furiously beckoning me, and calling, “Aislynn. Over here.”
I put my order in and then weaved my way through the tables, raising my hand in greeting as I approached my friends.
“Sit,” Kerry demanded. “Tell us all about it. I have one day off, and I come back in to be told you were competing for gold in the one-hundred-meter sprint after spending ten minutes in the boss’s office yesterday.”
“Oh God,” I exclaimed softly, taking the seat beside her. “Has the gossip tree already gotten to you? I was going to tell you today. That’s if I’ve still got a job.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that right now,” Jada interjected, smirking. “Tricky Dickie’s got a lot more than you on his overflowing plate today.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to play it cool even though my heart felt as if it was thudding out of my chest.
Kerry leaned toward me and whisper-shouted, “Security went in this morning to find the boss strapped face down, naked to his desk. He’d been stabbed through the hand and...” She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“And what?” I asked.
She winced, her mouth twisting with humor. “He’d been violated.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “Violated? How?”
“Let’s just say I’ll never be able to click on a computer mouse again without picturing it,” she told me knowingly.
My face scrunched up. “What are you talking about...?” My words trailed off as the meaning behind my friend’s words washed over me, and I whispered incredulously, “No way.”
The girls began to laugh.
I sat back in my chair, not quite able to believe what I was hearing.
So, that was what Pagan’s brothers were doing when he was at my apartment.
Oh my God!
“The rumor is, it was some kind of sex game that went wrong,” Jada declared. “He’s been busy, right? Making you run for your life yesterday, then hours later, doing that shit in his office. I don’t know how he’s got enough hours in the day.”
I smiled up at the wait staff, who placed my coffee on the table before turning back to Jada. “Do they know who it was?”
“No. The cameras weren’t working. Richard probably turned them off when he had you in his office, and either kept them switched off when whatever woman he was playing with turned up or forgot to turn them back on again. Who the fuck knows?”
“Is he hurt?” I asked. “I mean, it couldn’t have been much fun tied to a desk all night in a cold office.”
“Apparently, he injured his hand, but nothing life-threatening,” Kerry assured me.
Shame.
Maybe I should have had more sympathy for my boss, but any benevolent feelings soon fizzled out when I thought about his shitty behavior toward me over the past couple of months.
Yesterday wasn’t the first time he’d tried to corner me.
Richard Sketch was a sexual predator wrapped up in a bespoke suit, and whatever humiliation or pain he’d experienced at the hands of the Kings of Anarchy was nothing compared to what he’d done to countless women over the years.
I should have sent Pagan and his brothers a thank-you card and a bottle of Jameson.
The thought made me smile to myself, which earned me a sharp, appraising look from Kerry.
“So what happened between you and the boss yesterday?” she asked, her voice turning conspiratorial.
For a microsecond, I considered lying, but what was the point? Word had obviously already gotten out, and my friends knew it wasn’t the first time Richard had gotten handsy with me. To deny it now would look like I was trying to hide something.
“Nothing,” I replied. “But only because I got away.” I pulled the sleeve of my shirt up to show them the bruises on my wrist. “He got rough with me, so I kicked him in the balls and ran. I think I’m going to have to pay a visit to HR today and make a formal complaint.
I already know how this ends though. I’ll be the one frozen out, and everything I’ve worked for will have been for nothing.
I can’t graduate without a work placement and the banked hours my Master's requires, and paid internships are like gold dust. Hell, at this late stage I’d be lucky to get an unpaid one, and I’m supposed to be graduating in a few months. ”
Kerry took my wrist and examined it. “This is awful, Ash. You have to go to HR. Do you want me to come with you?”
“God, no,” I told her. “I don’t want you getting involved. It’s bad enough I have to risk my job.”
She rubbed her thumb gently across my bruises. “Nobody should have to put up with that bullshit at work. Not only is it seedy and nasty, but it’s also illegal.”
Kerry’s words hit me in the heart, and I suddenly felt emotional. I swallowed back my tears and nodded, taking a long drink of my latte, trying to keep myself on an even keel before asking, “Can you keep your cell phone with you? If I need you, I’ll message.”
Jada laid a hand on my arm. “You’re not the one in the wrong here. You hold all the cards. Go in there, play hardball, and kick some ass. Show Richard there are consequences for the shit he does.”
She was right.
Richard Sketch had gotten away with terrorizing the women who worked for him for years. It was time somebody stood up to him, and it looked like that somebody would have to be me, whether I wanted to or not.
—————
I’d been at my desk for about an hour when I got the call.
I worked in an open-plan office with the other support staff and junior architects.
A large conference room sat at one end of our floor, where Richard Sketch often worked when he needed to brainstorm or discuss plans with us.
His formal office, where yesterday’s ‘incident’ occurred, was at the opposite end of our floor, along with the offices belonging to the other two partners.
The anticipation was killing me, the whispers among the staff only adding to the jumping in my stomach and the slight tremor in my fingers. Every time I tried to catch somebody’s eye, their gaze lowered, which proved I’d been the subject of office gossip.
My mouse had been hovering over the same blank spreadsheet for at least five minutes when the email notification eventually came through.
It was from the head of HR, a woman called Louise, who’d originally recruited me.
Aislynn, can you come to the conference room for a meeting, please? I will be here, too.
My heart hammered so hard that my vision blurred for a second.
I took a deep breath, and then another, before finally standing and smoothing down my skirt.
With my chin tilted up, I strode purposefully toward my boss’s office.
On the outside, I portrayed a confident, assured woman, but on the inside, every organ shook with nerves.
Not one of these people had come to my rescue the day before or even asked how I was doing. Assholes.
I approached the conference room and rapped lightly on the door. After I heard Louise call for me to enter, I turned the handle and stepped inside, my gaze immediately taking in the scene before me.
Richard sat next to Louise at the opposite side of the table, his eyes downcast to avoid my gaze.
He was a good-looking man, slick, who never had a hair out of place.
He wore his usual designer button-down shirt with the sleeves folded up and expensive dark jeans.
What made me do a double take was the sight of his purple, bruised jaw, red, bloodshot eyes, and his bandaged hand, which had been pulled up into a sling across his chest.
Something ugly and raw twisted inside me as I stared at my boss’s battered face.
I didn’t feel sorry for him; on the contrary, if I could’ve got away with adding another bruise to his jaw, I would have gone for it.
Instead, I took solace in how uncomfortable he looked as he dragged his collar away from his neck with his finger, and the shadows behind his eyes when he stole a glance at me.
“Take a seat, Aislynn,” Louise told me, her tone gentle. She sneaked a glare at my boss and cut out, “Before we begin, Richard has something he’d like to say to you.”
I sat stiffly down in a chair opposite, straight-backed, with my body taut, lacing my fingers together in my lap.