9. Fae #3
“Mr. Fernsby, our professor, sir.” Roman shifts ever so slightly. If I wasn’t standing next to him, I would miss it. I wonder what he’s not telling them.
“Hmm, very well,” Father muses.
“Do I not have permission, sir?”
“If Mr. Fernsby believes that you are ready to create weapons, then I am in no position to undermine his authority.”
With that, we move through the rest of the evening.
For once, we don’t need an alibi because we already had one.
Hundreds of people saw us at the gala, including the police.
It’s why we used fake identification. Some roles require us to manipulate CCTV; others, our personas.
It all depends on what The Company calls for.
After an hour of debrief, it’s time to go, and my heart feels a little lighter knowing I’ll be leaving the crypt soon.
I head towards the door, Roman following close behind, covering my back. We reach the top of the stairs and just as I step into the main hallway, Mr. Longstaff barks.
“Roman. A word.”
Roman stiffens slightly behind me as we pause and turn.
“Alone,” he demands.
Roman’s body coils with tension as he turns back to me. Leaning down, he presses a chaste kiss to my cheek.
“Wait for me at your car,” he murmurs, so quietly it’s almost hard to hear.
I dip my chin marginally, but he catches the movement. Storming past me, he opens the first door, a meeting room, and steps inside. His dad rushes to catch up and slams the door behind them.
“Good to see you, Fae. Do not let me down,” Father states, already marching towards the kitchen as Mr. Sullivan follows, squeezing my shoulder tightly as he passes.
God I fucking hate these men touching me.
“I will not, Father,” I say, projecting my voice, knowing he will be mad if he doesn’t hear me.
Speak up, Fae. Demand attention, Fae. Stop being a little mouse, Fae. Stop crying, Fae. Nobody listens to quiet women, Fae.
I smell him before I feel him. I pick up my pace, trying to get down the hallway, but my hair is yanked back and I gasp.
“Oh, I just love that sound. Reminds me of the good days, doesn’t it?” Dr. Fisher sneers as I focus on controlling my breathing. “Do not be quiet for me now, darling. You know I love your noises.”
“Get your hands off me,” I sneer, gritting my teeth.
Using the pressure point on his wrist, I press hard enough for his grip to loosen. Moving quickly, I pull myself free and take a step back, catching the slight hiss of pain that slips from his mouth.
“You do not get to touch me anymore. Do I make myself clear?” I bark, with more confidence than I feel.
His dumbfounded expression drops, a predatory curl replacing it. His laugh prickles across my skin as nausea rises in my throat, so wrong that I feel like that little girl all over again.
“Oh darling, but that is where you are wrong. By the end of graduation, you will be all mine and there is nothing anyone can do about it.” He takes a step towards me as I freeze, paralysed by the memory of his hands.
“W… what are you going on about?” I stutter as he takes another step closer.
“You don’t know? Oh, baby.” He pretends to pout, his tone patronising as he closes the distance between us. “After graduation, you are all mine.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, I’m going to the compound.”
Dr. Fisher tuts, shaking his head.
“No, sweet girl, after graduation, you are mine. I might not have been able to fuck you how I wanted back then, but I can soon,” his disgusting fingers trace a line down my cheek; my breath stutters as it sinks in what he means.
“I cannot wait to see what the university has taught you, darling. But unlike what you have learnt, there is no safe word with me… and you know I love to make you cry.”
He leans in like he is going to kiss me, but the door Roman went in bursts open. Dr. Fisher drops his hand and steps back, but not quickly enough. A vein pulses in Roman’s temple, his fists clenching, knuckles turning white.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” Roman barks, storming towards me and pulling me behind him, using himself like a shield.
“ANSWER ME!” he roars at the now snivelling Dr. Fisher.
Hierarchy is everything in The Company. You cannot get much higher than Roman and his family. Regardless of whether Dr. Fisher is initiated, he is beneath Roman and he knows it.
“We were just having a friendly talk, weren’t we, Fae?” Dr. Fisher snivels.
Roman spins back to me, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him. His breathing is uneven, sharp, and I have never seen him this worked up before.
“Yes,” I say. He knows I am lying. I grip his shirt anyway, pleading with my eyes. “Let’s go home,” I whisper.
Whatever he sees on my face says enough as he closes his eyes.
I count to ten in my head, barely breathing from the tension.
When he opens them again, the rage isn’t as strong, but it’s still there.
Something else shifts in his expression; I don’t have a name for it, but it’s enough.
He gives me a slight nod before tucking me under his left arm, keeping himself between me and Dr. Fisher.
“Stay away from her,” Roman demands, marching us out of this hell hole and towards our cars.