CHAPTER ELEVEN
Summer
One thing I enjoy about working at Kratos Properties and Investments is that their car park is beneath the monstrous building I work in. Today, the temperature is scorching—just like the anger boiling inside me. It hasn’t dulled since learning my drink was spiked.
Harry Marsden.
My ex-boyfriend.
Our breakup had been messy. It didn’t start that way. I assumed we were on the same page where our relationship was concerned.
I was wrong.
When he broke up with me, I was at a loss for words.
I had already been thinking it was time to call it, but I didn’t get the impression he was about to break up with me.
I had other things on my mind during that time so I might have missed it.
We had been taking it slow, something I thought we both agreed on since our relationships before had been rushed.
Then a doctor’s visit changed everything, and having a boyfriend was the last thing on my mind. He wanted more, and my mind was elsewhere. Yet I stuck it out, and each time he pushed for more, I would remember my body wasn’t fully right, and I would freeze, stopping things from going further.
So for months, we did nothing but share a brief kiss here and there.
Then one night, we went out. I only agreed because I needed to take my mind off the biopsy results I was receiving that week.
Harry breaking up with me the way he did just sealed what I had been thinking.
I was done with boys. I didn’t realise the loser wanted me to run after him and beg for him to take me back, or that he thought walking away would push me into sleeping with him.
It was after that night that the name calling started.
His friends would make fun of me when I ran into them.
He would even tell people he broke up with me because he caught a sexually transmitted disease from me and I wouldn’t leave him alone.
The irony of the accusation wasn’t lost on me.
Especially since he kept turning up at my house at all hours of the night.
He would send gifts, flowers, and even went as far as to book us a weekend away together.
He thought he was good enough for me, that I would forget all the insults.
It didn’t matter that Freya and I stored fish in his car, shaved his hair when we saw him drunk one night, and egged his house; he never gave up trying to get me back.
And I don’t just mean for the crap we pranked him with.
It gave me whiplash. It wasn’t until my dad went out and chased him with a chainsaw that things stopped.
Harry didn’t know it was a Halloween prop, so he stayed away.
But slipping something in my drink...
I heard rumours about him doing that to others after our breakup, but I thought they were just that.
.. rumours. I never knew they held any truth because I had never heard a woman accusing him.
If I did, I would have believed them, or at the very least questioned it.
Which is why when Reid mentioned it, it made me think back to that night.
Harry was there when I came out of the bathroom.
He made a huge scene in the pub and kept demanding to know why I didn’t fight for us.
It was like being back at school, when you got a new partner and your ex told everyone he had one too, when in reality, he was still wanking over a Katy Perry poster.
So on Monday, after I found out Katherine wasn’t going to be in for a few days—which meant I could work from home—I went to his house. He still lives with his parents, but unlike before, he isn’t employed, so he was home.
I knew as soon as I confronted him that it was true. The weasel spiked my drink.
And Reid drank it.
The minute I lied and said I had video evidence, he went pale and started making out it was a muscle relaxer to get me to relax because I had been so uptight during that time.
He also wanted to be the one who helped me, so I was indebted to him.
I wish I’d recorded his confession to take to the police, but I had been too consumed by my anger, and I was too revolted by the sudden knowledge of what he would have done.
Instead, I kneed him in the balls and left, planning to forget I ever knew the guy.
Until this morning, when my parents called to tell me a bunch of weeds had been left haphazardly on their front door step with a promotional happy birthday card by some company.
Inside, he had handwritten an apology. His apology means shit.
I may just make a report so the police have it on file because I have a feeling I wasn’t the first and definitely won’t be the last girl.
Without evidence, though, there’s nothing the police can do to him.
I lean my head back against the headrest of my car, letting out a dry laugh. He couldn’t even apologise with real, blooming flowers. He picked weeds out of someone’s garden or from a park.
I don’t need to deal with this. I don’t need to deal with a creep like him when I have a real shady snake ready to strike just eight floors up in this building. My anger is simmering on the edge right now, and I know seeing that woman will most likely have me boiling over.
“Pull yourself together,” I whisper.
Katherine wasn’t in on Monday, or Tuesday, and although I had no notification this morning about whether or not to come in, I decided to come in anyway.
Sandra—the wonderful, middle-aged woman I loved working for before Katherine—sent me a message asking if everything was okay.
That message turned into a phone call due to panic thinking I had missed something and I was in shit with the boss.
Turns out, Katherine is in today, and she’s pushed all this morning’s meetings to this afternoon, so now everyone is in a tizzy. It feels off. Never in the years I have worked here have I ever known meetings to be pushed back. If there’s ever any kind of delay, it’s requested by the clients.
For the entire drive over here, I kept thinking, ‘not everything is about me’, but then a part of me—a part that fears the things Katherine is capable of—kept thinking, ‘what if it is about me?’.
Then there was my concern over her using my absence as ammunition against me, and although I don’t care if I get sacked, I have worked my arse off here and deserve a glowing recommendation when I do leave.
My gaze falls to the screen on my dash, reading the time. With a sigh, I get out. Immediately, I’m blasted with muggy heat. Even underground and in a shaded car park, the stuffy heat reaches every inch of the space, making the stale air even riper.
I grab my bag that holds my laptop and papers and make my way through the car park to the back, where the lifts are located.
I send a wave to Marcus, my favourite security guard who works on the lower floor, as I pass him getting out of his car.
“Morning, Marcus,” I greet.
I hear him grunt something under his breath as he puts on his tie.
It doesn’t take long to reach the lifts and press my pass over the fob to call the elevator.
Marcus joins me as the doors open. “I think I finally understand why the devil is evil. I would be too if I had to be surrounded by heat like this,” he states, sweat beading at his temples.
Air-con immediately engulfs me as I step inside. I laugh at his comment. “The only reason I came in today is because of the air-con. The fans aren’t cutting it at home,” I lie.
We speak for a few more moments until the lift reaches his floor. The door opens, and he says, “Have a good day, Miss Adams.”
I groan. I hate it when he calls me Miss Adams and he knows it. It makes me feel old. “Summer,” I remind him. “I hope the door opens constantly and brings in hot air.”
The doors close on his laughter, and I step back against the far wall, closing my eyes for a brief moment.
I’m worried about what I’ll be walking into today.
Working from home comes with cons too. I have no idea what I’ve missed.
I can’t read people very well if I’m not near them.
Since Saturday, I haven’t stopped fretting about Katherine and if she knows I’m Malia’s cousin, where I live, or that we are somewhat acquainted with the Hayes family.
Would she keep me close so I don’t see what she has planned for my family? Would I be able to act normal or would I give myself away?
All these thoughts run through my mind as I reach my floor. The hallway is empty, which is normal since we usually have meetings at this time. I already know from Sandra that those aren’t happening this morning though. These hallways should be bustling with people.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I make my way down to Katherine’s office instead of heading straight for mine.
I pass by the cubicle station, where nearly two dozen staff members work, and again, the place is deserted.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think it’s Saturday afternoon because it’s the only time I ever see this floor empty.
But even then, there is always a random colleague lagging behind.
A deep voice vibrates through the air, seeming louder in this empty space. If fear wasn’t clouding my senses, I would have screamed, maybe made some sort of noise. Instead, it freezes me momentarily.
My heart rate speeds up as I take a step toward the sound of the man, ignoring the internal alarms going off inside me telling me to leave.
The voices grow clearer when I reach the far corridor that leads to Katherine’s main office. Aside from the reception desk outside the front of her door, the rest of the building that side is her office, providing me no cover if I go further. I risk being seen if I do.
“Was the package delivered to Windmere Grove as planned?” a deep voice asks, sounding threatening and dark. It wasn’t the same voice that I heard before. This one is harder, more formidable, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
Windmere Grove... Why does the street name seem so familiar?