4. Enslee
Iwas frozen in place as I stared at the scene in front of me in complete disbelief.
Or was it horror? Shame? Whatever it was, I was physically shaking, and not in the way I’d been upon leaving his office the first time.
It had been rage earlier, and now I couldn’t describe the myriad of shit racing through my head.
I’d seen and heard a lot of things in my young life.
Hell, I’d lived through a lot of things, but never had I been so shocked that I couldn’t even formulate a thought, much less get a coherent word out.
I could barely remember to breathe, and with each second that ticked by, the two men just stared at me, waiting to see what I intended to do.
The only lucid thought rushing through my head revolved around a singular question. How had I gotten to this place? I knew the logistics, but everything else was a blur.
After Brogan had thrown me out earlier, I’d fumed all the way downstairs. I’d expected to see the same woman from before, but no one had been in the lobby. Thankfully, I hadn’t stepped completely out of the elevator before I realized I’d left my keys here.
In my defense, they must’ve slipped out of my purse when I’d pulled out my cell phone to show him that I had indeed had an interview with him.
In my haste to leave, I’d grabbed my purse, but hadn’t thought to look around to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind.
All I had thought about was getting as far away from that infuriating man as I could.
All the irritation over the wasted expenses I’d squandered getting here had been for nothing.
I’d been stupid not to check back to make sure the interview request granted a few weeks ago was still approved, but I hadn’t wanted to give Brogan Sinclair time to change his mind.
It’d been a miracle to have gotten approval to begin with.
If it sounds too good to be true, it likely is.
And I knew that. Yet, I still drove for several days from Chicago, where I’d last been, to New York City, and now I’d gotten a story, but not the one I thought I would get.
Only, I shuddered to think what would happen if I dared to publish this.
Brogan had already threatened litigation.
If my social media channels were shut down, I’d lose my livelihood.
There was every chance they might leave things be if I just left, but I couldn’t force my lips to move to ask them, much less my feet to actually move.
Right now, I should’ve at least just grabbed my keys and escaped this alternate fucking universe, but my eyes were glued to the man now slowly rising to his feet.
Declan Fitzgerald. Anyone with a television set or a social media profile would know who he was.
His face was everywhere I went, from social media to print and even on television and the movie screens.
Many had likely fantasized about him at one time or another. What in the hell was he doing on his knees with Brogan Sinclair’s dick in his mouth? And not just because he was a man, but one under investigation over his fiancée’s disappearance.
Is this the reason she’s gone?
Did she find out the truth?
Something I had come to learn in most murder cases I’d investigated and blogged about over the years was that a secret life often led those killers to take drastic action to keep their secrets intact.
If Layla found out Brogan was not only bisexual, but having an affair with another man, had he killed her to shut her up?
The shaking intensified and something akin to fear started to flood my veins.
Did the police know about these two?
As Brogan’s hand moved, I dropped my gaze then quickly raised it back up when I saw him try to tuck his hard cock into his pants.
It was massive from what I could tell, but I couldn’t think about that.
Still, heat bloomed in my cheeks, likely adding a little color to ones that had paled the moment I’d walked in on whatever this was.
I brought a shaky hand to my face and faced the undivided glares coming from the two men. Finally, Brogan was the first to break the silence as he spoke in a low tone. “Enslee, you didn’t see—”
“Y-you,” I stammered as I pointed at Brogan, “and h-him,” I added as I waved my hand toward Declan. “You two were—”
“You did not see anything!” Brogan repeated to me, putting added emphasis on a few of those words. “Repeat after me, I did not—”
“Oh my God… He… and you… and I saw…” I said before I realized I was babbling.
I’d literally gone from being speechless to not being able to shut up.
Each word I rambled caused both men to become more irritated.
The way their jaws tightened and their lips thinned, and that didn’t even count the darkened eyes that narrowed as they continued to stare at me.
Especially Brogan. His were not only dark, but cold—hollow—and dare I say, violent.
Meanwhile, Declan just stood there with his hands in his pockets while Brogan advanced on me.
This man was suspected of hurting his fiancée, and now I’d seen him cheating on her with another man.
And not just any man, either. Brogan was getting head from one of the most recognizable faces in Hollywood.
Everything solidified for me in this moment. Layla had to have found out about this—about them—and she either confronted him or tried to leave. Brogan and Declan must’ve done something to shut her up.
I was in real danger right now. There hadn’t been any evidence found indicating that she hadn’t met a grisly end, but there also hadn’t been anything found that said that she hadn’t either.
This was so surreal, and I’d always known one day that my fascination with crime might lead to something.
The lengths one would go to in order to silence another were documented enough in case after case.
Witness intimidation was one thing, but witness removal was another, and I now feared for my life.
Layla had been part of their world. She had money and resources, and could easily evade them if need be, but me?
I lived in my goddamn van and traveled the country.
I also had no living family, and due to my introverted ways, I had no friends who would notice my disappearance either.
There were my millions of followers, but no one knew anything more about me than I’d allowed them to see.
Another influencer would come up in the ranks, making me a has-been or afterthought.
My fear had now turned to stark terror, especially as Brogan moved in on me. I stepped back and nearly knocked the chair over in the process. When I did, I felt something move beneath my feet. My keys. Remembering them, I quickly scooped them off the floor and took a few steps back.
“Miss Byrne,” he said as he came to a stop.
Perhaps he’d seen my face and realized what was causing my distress, or he’d looked into my eyes, which I knew couldn’t hide a thing. They were windows to the soul after all, and as mine looked back into his, Brogan’s was as dark as those black orbs.
“Don’t come any closer,” I said to him.
Brogan put his hands in front of him in mock surrender, but I could see the calculation in his gaze as he continued to stare at me. I’d met my share of narcissists and psychopaths over the years, but Brogan Sinclair might just be the scariest of them all.
A noise caught my attention, and as Declan moved closer to Brogan, my pace quickened. My heart rate was rapidly accelerating, the quick and heavy beats starting to drum in my ears. Something in my chest twisted, and I threw one of my hands out this time.
“You. Don’t come any closer or I’ll scream.”
“No one will hear you,” Declan said, and his voice was even deeper in person than on the screen.
I couldn’t believe I’d actually had a few X-rated dreams about this very man. A shiver wracked me, and I felt the cold from the top of my spine to the bottom. Declan Fitzgerald was no romantic hero from the movies, but a possible accomplice to murder.
My ears strained, but I didn’t hear anything, so they were likely right. My eyes then darted around the office in search of anything that could be a camera, and I saw nothing. It made me take another step backward.
“And I’ve never had recordings in this office so it’s just you, him, and me,” Brogan said, pointing out the obvious.
“P-please don’t hurt me,” I begged.
“Give me your word that you’ll forget all about what you’ve seen, and you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“Nothing is what you think so agree to forget about all of this and we’ll let you go.”
My heart rate was now throbbing so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear them over it. While I could easily have said that I agreed and left, I doubted they would hold up their end of the bargain. After all, both men had something to lose in this, so they would need to shut me up.
“Do we have your word?” Brogan asked.
I shook my head profusely, then when both men took a step toward me, I quickly turned and fled. I’d made it no farther than the door before a large hand grabbed the thick loose fabric of my hoodie.
Had I been in something different, I could’ve shrugged it off. I couldn’t with this, so I propelled myself forward and grimaced slightly at the sound of rendering fabric. I could deal with a torn shirt as long as I made it out of this place.
I managed to avoid their grasp as I raced out into the hallway. I was now thankful that I’d decided to wear my sneakers. I could barely walk in high heels, so I would’ve never been able to run in them.
I heard my name intertwined between several curses coming from two distinctly different voices, but I kept running. The hallway hadn’t seemed that long initially, but as I raced toward the elevator, it seemed like miles.
Heavy footsteps followed me, and I was about to inwardly praise my still-there track speed when a large hand grabbed my arm.
With my fight-or-flight instincts fully activated, I did the former and just started to flail my arms around.
As soon as Brogan spun me around, one of my elbows connected with his jaw, eliciting a low growl of pain.
Declan was right there, so I continued to swing and kick until I was able to free myself once more.
Once I did, I continued down the hallway.
The footsteps from earlier had stopped, and like an idiot, I chose to turn, and when I did, my feet hadn’t gotten the message, and I toppled forward.
The men were now walking toward me as I plummeted toward the floor with all urgency gone.
I’d thought that odd but had no chance to wonder why because seconds later, my head connected with something hard and this time, I was the one to cry out in pain. Everything began to spin around me once my head bounced off the hard floor beneath me.
Pain exploded in my skull, and it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. On instinct, I reached behind me to touch the area that radiated the worst throbbing, and when I pulled it back, I screamed.
My hand was coated entirely in blood, and it shook uncontrollably in front of me. I couldn’t worry myself with it right now. As I looked up and saw both men standing over me with something that might’ve been confused with concern had these men been someone else.
“Miss Byrne,” Brogan said.
“Are you okay?” Declan added.
My lip quivered as pain continued to build in my skull.
Both sides hurt, especially the backside where I could feel more warmth from my blood.
Trying to crawl backward, my hands slipped in the crimson puddle as a wave of nausea washed over me.
Or maybe it was something different. Dizziness gripped me more than fear, and I tried once more to move and managed to back up a few inches so I could rise to my feet.
As soon as I did, I swayed on them. I smacked at the hands reaching for me and took a step.
As soon as I did, my feet slipped in the same puddle, and I tumbled back to the stone beneath me.
My head bounced off the floor again, but this time the lightheadedness didn’t leave.
In fact, I closed my eyes to the swirling scenery consisting of a marble planter, metallic ceiling tiles, blinding lights, and two men.
Thinking about those men, I tried to open my eyes, but the lids were now so heavy I couldn’t lift them even a sliver. Pain and wooziness swirled in my head, and when I accepted my peril, my body stilled, and I gave in to the darkness harkening me home.