Ten
JACKSON
Earlier that afternoon
When I got back to our building, I circled the garage looking for her car.
Only, when I found it, it was empty. I didn’t think I would catch her, but I had hoped I was wrong.
Sawyer isn’t answering me anymore, and I need to make sure she’s okay.
Taking the elevator to the lobby of the complex, I practically run toward the manager’s office.
I need to speak with them and see if they’ll help me.
When I get there, I open the door, letting myself in.
“Mr. Powell, how can I help you?”
“Hi Sarah, I need a favor.”
“Sure.”
A dangerous smile breaks out on her face, and I hate it.
I know what’s hidden within it, and I want no part of it.
I hate women who think they can throw themselves at me or win me over with their promiscuity.
I hate even more that the media has made me out to be the playboy that I’m not.
They give these girls the wrong notion that I’m easy and will invite them into my bed with very little thought.
No, I’m not in a steady relationship with anyone. Yes, I bring a different date with me to each function I go to. No, I don’t sleep with them despite what they turn around and tell the paparazzi.
Well, not all of them. Like all men my age, I have needs, after all.
Yes, I want to be able to find that one person to share my life with. More than anything, but, until very recently, I hadn’t known whether that would even be possible anymore. Something broke inside of me when I found Kristen in bed with Derrick a week before our wedding.
Something that I could feel beginning to mend the moment I met Sawyer.
I thought I’d ever be able to feel this way about someone again. Now that I know it’s possible, I need to do anything I can to help her.
“I need the unit number of someone in the building.”
“Mr. Powell, I could get into a lot of trouble for divulging that kind of information.” Sarah looks up at me through thick lashes, a fake look of concern on her face.
I take a deep breath.
Sarah stands and rounds her desk, stopping when she’s directly in front of me. Her closeness irritates me.
“This is serious,” I say to her.
“Maybe we can make a deal. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.” She lifts her brow as she bites on the nail of her index finger, playfully.
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“What about a date then?”
“No, this isn’t negotiable. She could be in danger. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
As soon as the “she” leaves my lips, her pathetic attempt at seduction morphs into jealousy and anger.
“Sorry, Mr. Powell. It’s against the rules. If you’ll excuse me,” she adds with an attitude as she returns to her seat.
Red seeps into my vision, and it takes all of my willpower to leave the office without doing something that I know I’ll regret.
I walk to the elevator and get in when it arrives.
Entering my access code for the penthouse, I slam my fist against the “P” button on the panel, shattering the hard plastic it’s made from.
SAWYER
At eleven that evening, a pair of footsteps can be heard in the hallway outside our door.
My feet are aching and my stomach is churning with anxiety, fear of the unknown, and hunger.
My bladder is screaming for relief. Dinner is ice cold.
A chill surges through my body, contradictory to the sweat that covers my skin.
As the footsteps come closer, I find myself hoping it’s him just so he can put an end to it all. Until I hear his key enter the lock and my brain does a one-eighty, wishing it weren’t him after all.
As the door opens, my head turns in his direction, but he’s not looking at me. He takes off his jacket and puts it away in the coat closet. When his eyes finally reach mine, I struggle to keep the fear from them. He glances at the table, at the cold dinner that awaits him, then back at me.
“I already ate.”
His words leave me shaking with both anger and sadness.
I’m unable to stop the tears that manifest in their wake.
Daniel walks to the table and the thick scent of scotch and cigars rolls off of him.
My stomach turns sour at the smell, but I don’t let my sickness show.
Daniel picks up his plate, confusing me.
There’s no way he’s going to help me clean up.
A second later, he sends the plate sailing in my direction like a frisbee.
I duck just in time for it to miss hitting my head, and it slams into the dining room wall behind me.
Before I’m able to fully register what’s happening, I feel pain squeezing at my neck, pulling me up from the crouched position I’m in behind the chair I’m clinging to for dear life.
“What the fuck did you think you were trying to pull?” he questions in a chilling voice.
Daniel moves his hold from the back of my neck to my biceps and pushes me up against the wall.
“Nothing, I told you earlier, he just showed up,” I cry out in pain as he squeezes me tightly.
I lock my eyes on his, begging him to see the sincerity within me.
“How convenient he just happened to show up on a day that I was out of the office. You don’t honestly think I’m that stupid, do you?”
Spit flies from his mouth, landing on my cheek, and I try not to cringe.
“No, of course not. But that’s what happened.”
“What, you don’t get enough of ogling him on the track? You had to parade him around my office, embarrassing me in front of my staff?”
“That’s not what I was doing, Daniel.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He squeezes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I have eyes and ears all over the office, Sawyer.”
“I didn’t invite him; he came on his own.
I told him no, but he said I was the only one he would work with.
He’s a billionaire, Daniel. I didn’t think you’d want me turning that kind of business away from your company.
” Angry tears leak from my eyes. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.
I was going to tell you about it tonight when you got home from your meeting. ”
He lets go of me, then boxes me in against the wall with his arms.
“Were you planning on telling me about all the flirting that was going on too?”
“Flirting? We weren’t flirting, we were working! I told you before, he’s my boss. I don’t think of him that way.”
He says nothing else. He simply stands there, his eyes locked on mine.
“When I walked in, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.” His face looks sad, which is an emotion long lost to Daniel. It’s impossible for him to feel that way anymore. The narcissism in him won’t allow for it.
“There was no sexual tension, I swear.” I speak quietly, pleading with him to believe me. “Daniel, I promise you, there is nothing between us. I’m with you, no one else.”
Daniel reaches for my arm, and I flinch, thinking he’s going to grab me again. He pulls me in for a hug, and relief spreads through me for a second before I feel a sharp pain tugging at the back of my head as he roughly fists my hair.
“If you ever think about leaving me,” he pulls my head back roughly, forcing me to look him in the eyes, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Shaking, my tear-filled eyes follow his. With a dangerous gleam, he looks back and forth between mine. Fear keeps me from being able to speak, but I’m able to give him a slight nod despite his painful grip on my hair.
Finally, he lets me go, and it takes everything I have not to collapse onto the floor beneath me.
“Clean this shit up and come to bed so you can show me how sorry you are.”
Giving him another shaky nod, he turns and walks down the hallway to our bedroom.
I give myself a moment to steady my breathing before I clean up, not bothering to keep any of the food.
I’m not hungry anymore, anyway. Once I put everything else away, I walk toward our bedroom, dread building inside of me the closer I get.
Tonight is going to be hard, but it’s nothing that I’m not used to.
It’s all part of the vicious cycle that I’ve been trying to survive, being with Daniel.
Round and round I go, like my car on the track. Not knowing if I’ll be able to get out in front of the person who wants to take me down or if I’ll crash and burn within the wreckage.