Always For You (Books 1-3) (11 page)

BOOK: Always For You (Books 1-3)
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I'd learned that she was a therapist,
someone he'd been seeing to help him cope. It was common for those
relationships to grow into something more, and so it had happened
with my dad and Penny. In some ways the same thing had happened with
me. Chase had helped me move through everything just like Penny had
with dad. That's something I had never got before, back when I was
acting like a petulant brat, a child. God only knows what my dad had
been going through when I'd gone off the rails after mom died,
leaving him alone, not knowing where I was, what I was doing. I was
such a selfish bitch.

But things were better now. It had been
almost a year since the accident, and the dust had settled. Things
were finally getting back to normal as I prepared to get back to
college, new boyfriend in tow. But for the gaping hole where mom used
to be, things would be great.

It was late August when I met Chase
outside my flat, his Porsche grumbling by the side of the road. He
was taking me to a work event, a big party they were holding for the
entire office. “One of the perks of the job,” he told me. “When
we bring in the bacon, they reward us.” I didn't know whether he
was referring to the car or the party they were hosting, but I
suspected it was both.


Of
course,” he continued, “I can't drink at these things anyway, so
a lot of it's lost on me.”


Isn't
that one of the reasons you got into drink and drugs in the first
place though,” I asked. It seemed like these office parties were
prime times to overindulge.


Perhaps.
They certainly didn't help.”

The office block that Chase worked in
was extremely corporate. It was glass fronted, with a huge open lobby
and a long reception desk right across the middle. The lobby was airy
and bright, with large metal sculptures on the floor and huge
impressionist paintings dotted around the walls.

We walked past the front desk and in
through the metal detectors and barriers towards a pair of
escalators, one on each side of the building, the left one going up,
the right one going down. It was all pretty high tech, paid for by
the large financial corporations existing within it. The company
Chase worked for, Avery Ash, was a large brokerage that handled some
pretty hefty trades. When he ever tried to talk to me about it, the
numbers began to get lost in my head. It sounded like he was
responsible for a hell of a lot of money. His salary and bonus scheme
certainly mirrored the responsibility he held.

At the top of the escalators were a
series of lifts, all of them going up, three on each side facing each
other. The lifts on the other side of the building were the ones that
took you down. If you ended up missing your floor then you'd have to
go right over to the other side of the building to fetch the
escalator going down. It seemed a bit impractical to me, but what did
I know.

We
ascended right up towards the top of the building, shooting up to the
35
h
floor where Chase had his office. The views over the city were
spectacular as we walked from the lift and along the corridor, the
entire floor split into office cubicles and larger communal areas. By
now it was quiet, with only a few people tapping away at their
keyboards or shouting down the phone. I'd imagine a few hours ago it
would have been buzzing.

I
heard a growing murmur of voices as we walked, turning right and
heading to the other side of the building. As we rounded the corner I
saw a series of guys in smart suits, passing around large magnums of
champagne and gulping down the liquid, much of it spilling out over
their shifts and onto the floor.
What
a waste of money.

There were attractive women there as
well, wives and girlfriends of the traders, all adorned in jewelry
and wearing beautiful dresses. The place oozed money and excess, an
environment where wealth and power was everything. I could see easily
how and why Chase had been dragged into the world of cocaine and
alcohol. I imagined it was a far prettier version of the world I had
lived in though.


Chase!”
the guys roared as we approached, one of them lurching towards him
and giving him a manly hug. He had champagne all down his front, his
cheeks red from a little too much drink. “Mate, it's gonna take off
here soon, I'll tell you, John's put on a real spread for us.”


Herb,
I can't drink mate, you know that. Hey, this is Grace, the girl I
told you about.”

Herb turned to me, his chubby face
opening with a smile. “Grace, I've heard loads. Great to meet you.”
He was so enthusiastic. “You a drinker Grace? Let's see if we can't
get Chase here to have a glass of champagne!”

He popped his arm around me and turned
me towards the throng. “So Grace, tell me about yourself,” he
said as we walked away, Chase catching up.


Always
the same huh Herb,” he said with a laugh. “You'll have to excuse
him, and a lot of the other guys here Grace, they're always trying to
poach each others girlfriends.”

I
laughed at the thought, assuming it was all just a bit of sport for
them.
Boys
will be boys and all that.
“Right,
drink for the lady,” Herb said, passing a glass of champagne in my
direction without taking no for an answer.

I looked at Chase. I didn't want to
drink if he wasn't, it might make it hard for him. He nodded. “Go
ahead, it's fine. I'll just grab an orange juice.”


Trust
me,” he said, seeing my 'are you sure' face, “I've been to enough
of these things to handle it. It's not a problem.”

I trusted him to know himself. He
seemed so assured in every area of his life, so I doubted this would
be a problem.

I talked to Chase's co-workers and
friends as the night went on, everyone else drinking away merrily. I
myself partook in a few, my defenses down as soon as I'd had my first
glass. I felt comfortable though, with Chase there, sober, watching
out for me. Even when I began to feel a little tipsy, I knew I'd be
fine.

The night wasn't going to end in the
office though. A call from one of the loudest members of the party
drew all of our attention as the clock ticked towards 11 pm. “Right
everyone. You've all been asking where John is, our fantastic boss
who put on this spread.” There was cheers from the crowd. “Well,
he's been busy, as we all know, and has only just arrived! He's
coming up for a bit, probably a quick speech knowing him, and then
we're off to a private club! Let's give him an almighty roar when he
gets up here!” Once more the crowd cheered.

A sense of anticipation hit the air as
everyone's conversations quietened to a whisper. A few moments passed
before we heard a light footfall coming from the distance. It got
louder as it approached until, suddenly, a man appeared around the
corner.

Cheers went up at his arrival, but I
stayed silent. He put his hands to the air to quieten everyone down,
the noise in the room retreating once more. He began speaking, his
voice smooth and controlled, making a short speech about the future
of his company, about the successes they'd all achieved together. He
wore a smart suit, hugged to his body, his eyes cold. I looked at him
and knew that face, knew that voice. It sent a shiver up my spine.

The man from Room Z.

My heart was quickening as I stood
there, shrinking back into the crowd. I wondered if he'd recognize
me, whether he'd remember my shadow and know it as me. I stood next
to Chase as he looked up, his face beaming, his smile wide, clapping
his hands loudly in applause on cue.

I tugged at his arm. “That's your
boss?” I whispered nervously.


Yeah.
But he's more than that. He's like a father to me. Gave me an
opportunity, always supported me. I'd be nowhere without him.”

An echo in my mind brought me back to
that night in Room Z as he spoke. I could see him sitting there in
font of me, sliding his hand on the empty space beside him. I could
feel his hand on my leg, slipping up my inner thigh. I could hear his
cold voice offering me cocaine. I could see him looking at me as
blood poured from my nose, looking down on me as I collapsed to the
floor. He didn't help, he didn't care. I could have died, but I was
nothing to him. Just another lost girl. Another prostitute.


Grace,
are you OK?” Chase said, lightly shaking my shoulder. “You look
like you've seen a ghost, you're all white.” It was quiet now, the
speech over, everyone returning to their conversations.


No,
I really don't feel well. I think I've had too much champagne. Can we
go?” My words were rushed.


Sure,
of course. Let me just talk to John first, introduce you. He'd love
to meet you.”


No,
no.” I rushed the words out. “Please, just lets go. I – I don't
think I'd make a good impression right now.”


OK
honey, if you're sure. Just stand here one minute, I'll be back in a
second.”


No...”

He ran off quickly as I reached for
him, over in the direction of John. I saw him shake his hand, a large
smile on his face, before gesturing over to me. I tried to hide my
face, pretend I hadn't seen them, as John looked in my direction. He
looked at me impassively, like he didn't recognize me. Then, slowly,
his expression changed, a sly smile appearing on it as he nodded
along at Chase's explanation.

Within moments Chase was back beside
me, his arm around me as we walked back in the direction we came,
back round the side of the building past deserted offices and a sea
of monitors and cubicles. I could feel John looking after us as we
left, his eyes fixed on our path, his cold voice still echoing in my
ears. I felt sick to my stomach.

Chapter 18

August
26
th
2013

Cain


No
fucking way,” Brad said as we sat with a whiskey.


Way,”
I replied. “A hundred per cent way.”

We'd just shipped out the last of the
stragglers from the bar and were enjoying a well earned drink after a
fairly busy night.


You
– you have a girlfriend. You. Of all people.”


Mate,
seriously, it's not THAT hard to believe is it?”


Fuck
yeah is it! I've never seen you even talk to a girl for more than
five minutes! The only talking you do is in the sack mate.” He
laughed, necking the last of his whiskey. “Another?” he asked,
pouring himself another full glass.

I nodded. “But I'm changed now mate,
you know that.”


I
know, I've watched you morph, it's been painful.” He laughed again.


Hey
fuck you. I can talk to women. They just need to be interesting. I
dunno, maybe you enjoy dating old Ditsy Daisy with a PhD in make up
but I'm looking for something a bit more than that.”


You
old woman you. You sound like a fucking chick.”

Shit,
I kinda do.
“Whatever
mate. I'm just looking for a girl with a bit more up top, not just
between her legs.”


Yeah
well, we'll see how long all this lasts. I see a return to form in no
time bro.”


Think
what you like mate. Don't forget you were the one who told me to
start dating girls properly in the first place.”


Come
on bro, I'm kidding. Seriously, good for you – you've finally found
someone to cuddle up to during those long lonely nights.”


Watch
your fucking tongue.” My tone was suddenly serious.


Whoa
whoa, easy. Seriously, I'm just kidding.”

I laughed in his face, my scowl
breaking down. “Had you for a minute huh! Pussy.”


Hey
fuck you.” He walked off to grab another bottle. “Well, all I can
say is good luck with it all. You've had it easy so far. When you
actually get to know a chick, you realize how fucking crazy they
are.”


I'll
take my chances.”

The truth was I had literally no idea
what I was doing. I'd never dated a girl, never actually spent any
time with a girl I liked. It was totally foreign territory, and I had
no idea how to navigate it. Emily though, she was cool. We'd been
getting along well, I enjoyed her company. We went for dinner as she
said and I made an effort, booking us into a decent place in town,
even wearing a shirt. She chuckled at the sight of it, but I think
she appreciated it all.


I
dunno, guys wear shirts on dates right?” I'd said to her when she'd
well, kinda laughed in my face.


Some
guys do, sure. Not everyone though. I think maybe you should be part
of the latter.” She was only being playful, and was right, it
didn't really suit my look. “I think you look great wearing what
makes you comfortable. Like the other day in the park.”

Sure, I'll just wear ripped jeans and a
black vest to a restaurant.

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