17. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Storm clouds rumble over Phoenix, the humidity finally catching up to us as Mother Nature gets ready for a bang.
Apparently, we're in for intense thunderstorms for the next three days, and as much as rain is needed, it's still a pain in the ass.
The whole office is in chaos Monday morning. Jason's big case starts in the Supreme Court, several support staff have called out sick, and Nick is even more stressed than usual. The moment I walked through the door, I've been bombarded with paperwork and files.
Urgent subpoenas, motions to dismiss, new client appointments… it's all happening.
And now on top of that, we have to prepare for the possibility of a blackout. The sky is darkening rapidly as we head into the afternoon, the clouds black and green. The rumbling of thunder is getting increasingly louder, and that's the downside of working in a tall building—you feel everything. Each rumble makes my windows shake slightly, and before long, rain is pelting heavily against the glass. It's so loud that I struggle to hear the client on the phone, her elderly voice cracking while I politely beg her to speak louder.
"Mrs. Castings, I'm terribly sorry but I'll need to call you back," I yell. "There's a storm and I'm not hearing you properly at the moment."
I think I hear the okay so I end the call, grumbling as I push back from my desk.
Heading over to the support area, I look at Mary, who's equally as buried in paperwork as I am.
"This is a nightmare," I sigh.
She nods, smiling warmly. "It will pass soon. I have earplugs in my drawer if you need some."
"I'm good," I laugh, heading to the staffroom to make a quick cup of coffee.
I'm not planning on finishing work anytime soon, and at this rate with the weather, I don't want to venture out into the rain even when I'm freed from the corporate chains for the day.
I take a sip of coffee, lingering in the staffroom for a moment. Movement catches my eye and I turn, spotting Elijah.
"Coffee break?" he asks happily. "That's a good idea."
Elijah walks over, grabbing a paper cup from the stack and making himself a coffee with the machine. I nod, looking out the window.
"I'm not game enough to go to the coffee cart outside. That's if he's even there still…"
"He's not," Elijah replies. "Bolted about forty minutes ago. I don't blame him."
"Neither do I," I remark, turning my attention to him. "Did you get my email with the file notes?"
He nods, giving me a grin. "I did. Thank you. I'm still trying to wrap my head around all the files and catch up with the clients, but it should ease up soon. Everyone always wants something at the same time."
"That's the truth," I laugh, checking the time on my watch. "Is your three o'clock meeting still going ahead?"
Elijah shakes his head. "Nah. Client rescheduled. No one wants to go outside in this weather. It works for me. I need to draft up a motion. Once it's settled, I'll send it through for filing."
"I can do that," I say softly. "Just let me know if you need anything else."
He pauses, scanning my face. "You've been a really great help, Rayne."
My cheeks start to pinken but I brush it off, taking another sip. "Happy to help. I'm sorry I've been a bit busy today. Nick's had some urgent matters pop up."
"I get it," he replies, leaning against the counter. "We can't anticipate the work flow. I don't mind sharing anyway."
I choke on my coffee, quickly turning it into a cough. It's a stupid reminder to dinner on the weekend, but I ignore it.
Elijah looks at me, concerned. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just went down the wrong way and it's hot," I lie. "I'm fine. Just in desperate need of a good sleep."
Laughing, Elijah kicks off from the counter. "Sleep? What's that? Never heard of it."
We walk together back to our offices, making small talk. I spot Nick frantically pacing his office, cell up to his ear as he talks to someone. His face is scrunched up in frustration, and for a brief moment, I feel bad for him. It must be very stressful being an attorney—I get stressed as a paralegal, so I can only imagine how everyone else feels too.
Sitting back at my desk, I scan my emails to check for any new messages. I spot a new email that just came in from an unknown email address, so I click on it.
Tempest.
This storm is quite powerful. Reminds me of you.
Do you need any help getting home?
I accidentally spit out my coffee, hissing as hot liquid hits my fingers. I grab a tissue, dabbing my hand, then the table to clean up the mess.
What the fuck?
My eyes immediately read the email address and name. It's very basic, only a mixture of letters and numbers. But it's fairly obvious who it's from.
I contemplate ignoring it or marking it as spam, but before I do, another email pops into my inbox from the same sender.
Shaking slightly from adrenaline, I click the mouse, opening the new message.
Don't be frightened, little one. We told you we'd be watching you close.
By the way… that color looks stunning on you today.
Glancing down, my mouth falls open at the pale sky-blue blouse. I shift nervously in my chair, crossing my legs while adjusting my pencil skirt.
"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," I mutter to myself, hastily deleting the emails. "I'm a professional. I have work to do."
I get back to the tasks at hand, ignoring the knotting feeling in my stomach. It could be just another mind game—after all, they never did specify what color it was. They could just be trying to get a reaction out of me. Besides, shouldn't they be working too?
As the afternoon passes by, people start to brave the rain one by one. Eventually, everyone leaves except for Elijah and myself.
I check the radar and find the rain should be easing within the hour, so I pull up a few extra tasks to get ahead of them. The time ticks by as the rain plays music on my windows, and eventually Elijah pokes his head through my office door, grimacing as he finds me with my head in my hands, grumbling to myself.
"Not any better, is it?" he says slyly.
I look up, shaking my head. "It's torrential out there. Knowing my luck I'll get stuck in it. I'm just hoping that when I am ready to brave it out, the traffic will have lightened. I hate driving through the pouring rain with no visibility."
"It's a pain in the ass," he agrees, holding up a drink. "Thirsty?"
In his hand is a small glass tumbler from the staff room. And judging by the amber colored liquid inside, it's alcohol.
"Parched," I answer, taking the glass from him as he hands it over.
Elijah sits down in the chair across from me, leaning back with a deep breath. "Present from an old client," he tells me, swishing the drink around. "Not bad."
"You won the case, I take it?"
He gives me a boyish grin. "Of course. Client in his late forties. Hit by a drunk driver while crossing the road."
"That's horrible," I gasp.
Elijah nods. "Don't worry. The drunk driver was only going seventeen miles an hour. He couldn't find the gas so the car was practically rolling."
"Still…" I murmur. "I wouldn't want to be hit by a car, no matter how fast they were going."
"Broken femur and a nasty scrape on his elbow. But lived to tell the tale."
I take a sip, trying not to pull a face at the burning taste. "Seems like an easy case to win. Why the present?"
He stills, raising an eyebrow at me. "It was the mayor's son. Got a little messy…"
"Oh," I mouth. "Yep, that will do it."
Elijah relaxes into the chair, crossing his ankles. "It was one of my favorite wins."
I put my elbow on my desk, resting my head on the palm of my hand. "What's your favorite to date?"
He thinks for a moment, a smile breaking across his face. "That's easy. Had a prenup tossed out. The husband was a deadbeat—abusive to his wife and kid. But of course, she had given up her career to support him. Basically, he cheated on her but they were in a no-fault state so it didn't matter. Prenup gave her minimal alimony, very little child support payments and no assets to start over."
"Some people are scum," I say in disgust. "What happened?"
"She ended up with half and he lost his job. It was beautiful retribution," he murmurs. "And that's the whole reason I wanted to be an attorney."
I smile at him. "So, not because of the money?" I laugh.
He grins. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I love the money."
"Money makes the world go round," I laugh. "It doesn't solve all the problems though. Like this rain."
Elijah looks out behind me to the windows. "Not unless you have a giant umbrella."
"Negative."
The building is quiet, with only tiny hums from computers. So when the elevator dings in the distance, we both pause, glancing outside my office.
"Is someone here?" Elijah asks, looking at his watch. "It's quite late. Maybe Jason?"
Footsteps grow louder, the two of us watching curiously for the person to come around the corner and into sight.
I jump up, drink still in hand when I spot Hawk stalking through the office, eyes immediately finding mine.
"Who is that?" Elijah questions, standing up. "Client?"
"No…" I mumble, rounding my desk to beat him to my door. "Just give me a moment."
Hawk's face is hard, his eyes dark as he weaves around mail carts and desks until he reaches me. He looks terrifying, and suddenly, all my conflicting feelings and thoughts about him go out the window. One minute he's sweet, and the next he's the stuff of my nightmares. My breath catches in my throat and I can't speak.
He stops in front of me, still staring at me intensely.
"Get your stuff, Rayne," he says darkly.
"What are you doing here?" I manage to blurt out.
Hawk lifts his gaze to shoot daggers at Elijah. "I said get your things. We're leaving."
"Is there a problem here?" Elijah steps beside me, looking at me with concern.
"No," I say merrily, holding my shit together. "No problem."
Hawk narrows his eyes at my colleague, and I'm fearful for not just myself, but Elijah too. "Rayne," he repeats more firmly. "Get your fucking things. Now."
"Wait, hold up," Elijah says, holding his hand up toward Hawk. "Don't speak to her like that."
"I wouldn't do that if you want to keep your fingers," Hawk growls, making Elijah lower his hand.
He looks at me with uncertainty. "Do I need to call someone?" he whispers.
"Call the police. I dare you," Hawk replies, unfazed. "We'll be long gone before they get here with this weather."
I step in front of Elijah, glaring at Hawk. "Back down," I snipe at him. "You're being ridiculous."
Hawk's hands shoot up, grabbing the tops of my arms. He digs his fingers in, lowering his head. "You have until the count of three to leave with me."
I'm scared—but I'm also mad. And worst of all, I'm embarrassed. To pull his bullshit in a dark house is one thing, but in front of a colleague? Someone who is basically my manager? Unacceptable.
"No," I argue back stubbornly. "You can't just waltz in here and tell me what to do."
"One."
I roll my eyes, folding my arms, which is difficult with his grip on me. "No."
"Two," he says, tone somehow getting darker as he snatches the glass from my hand, downing the drink in one go and putting the empty tumbler on a nearby desk.
Behind me, Elijah shifts awkwardly, obviously not used to having to face off with a psychopath. What does that say about me though? Calling his bluff…
"No," I repeat louder.
Hawk's head twists slightly as he looks at me, a glint that screams danger.
"Three."
I stand confidently, knowing he won't try anything. To everyone else in the world, he's always charming. He surely wouldn't dare threaten that.
Or at least that's what I thought.
His hands dig into my arms tighter, making me whine. Suddenly, I'm hoisted up, swung over his shoulder like a ragdoll.
Turning around, he starts walking towards the elevator, only holding onto me with one hand—which is conveniently placed firmly over my ass.
"Hawk!" I yell, hitting his back with my fists. When he doesn't flinch or reply, I lift my head, giving Elijah an apologetic look.
I mouth sorry, before yelling out. "See you tomorrow, I guess."
Elijah just stands there, in front of my office door with his drink still in hand, staring bewildered, shocked and worried. He doesn't react and as soon as we're inside the elevator and Hawk puts me on my feet, I do the unthinkable.
SLAP.