Chapter 4- The encounter
1418 Words
Deborah’s POV
The study smelled of dust, ink and aging leather. Moonlight crept through the tall windows casting eerie shadows across the shelves where the ancient books loomed like silent witness.
I snuck in first, my pulse racing as I knew I wasn't supposed to be here past my supposed curfew. But I don't care.
Not when he was here.
Moments after the door clicked shut.
He was here.
The air grew heavy with each passing second we were alone.
Our eyes were now locked, his gaze was intense and unreadable and mine wary but drawn.
We had been waiting for this moment our whole life.
We weren't children anymore.
No.
We had grown up in the same darkness, but in different rooms, different tragedies, but under the same roof, surrounded by the same walls.
We had seen each other far too clearly.
“You're not supposed to be in here,” his husky voice said stepping closer.
“Neither are you.”
“Don't worry about that, I make the rules.” He mummered with a smirk on his lips which was electric.
My breath was caught in my throat as he reached for the hem of my sleeve, brushing a thumb along my wrist. His touch was so featherlight but my whole body reacted like he'd set my skin on fire.
“I shouldn't…” I whispered in a failed attempt to push him away.
“But you want to,” he finished for me.
I slowly looked up to his eyes and our gaze locked. He leaned forward and our lips collided.
It wasn't sweet or tentative, it was molten. It was like we were starving for each other and this was the only way to quench our thirst. His hands tangled in my hair and I clutched his shirt like I needed to anchor myself. Every nerve lit up, every breath was stolen between kisses. There was something reckless about the way he kissed me, like he wanted me. No, needed me to forget about everything else.
Slowly giving in I kissed him back matching his ferocity.
My body pressed against him and the soft groan that had left his throat ignited something deep in my belly.
This wasn't just teenage hormones. No. It was a match made in heaven. Hope. A need to feel alive, to stay alive in a world that had taken too much from me.
Just as Lucas hands slid down my back making its way to my ass the door flew open.
“Lucas!”
My first day.
Finally it arrived after an uneventful weekend, it was finally here.
I had barely slept.
I lost count with the amount of time I ironed my blouse, brushed my hair and did my lipstick.
My nerves were a tornado of old trauma and new ambition. I need this job. Not just for rent, not to feel useful but this will mark a turning point in my life. It's like this is where things might just start to make sense again.
The elevator ride up to the executive floor was too smooth.
Too fast.
Like fate doesn't want to waste any time.
I stepped into the polished hallway lined with tall glass offices and intimidating silence.
Slowly, I reached the reception desk.
“Deborah Brown,” I said with a steady tone that I hoped masked my excitement. “New hire.”
The assistant smiled politely. “Mr Blackridge isn't here yet.”
My heart sank.
“He isn't here yet?”
I know right. Just repeating what she has just told me. I have been slapped in the face with disappointment.
“Unfortunately no, he hasn't called either.”
I nodded slowly trying to mask my confusion with a tight smile. I was shown to my workspace an elegant desk just outside Lucas's corner office. It was pristine, professional yet void and empty.
The clock ticked.
8:30
9:30
11:00.
But still no Lucas.
I decided I needed to take my mind off things. I answered some emails, filed reports and watched the office buzz around me like a machine I hadn't joined.
But under it all… unease clawed at me.
Where was he?
Why hadn't he called?
By 3pm my worry had amplified and calcified into irritation. I tried my best to bury myself into more tasks and paperwork, trying my best to keep my head down as the day slowly dragged along but his office was like a space for a ghost. The doors were locked and the blinds were shut.
Although they had stopped kissing, it still lingered on my lips, warm, trembling and unforgettable.
My heart dropped as the light spilled in and my entire body stiffened. Lucas's hands fell from my back like I had suddenly burned him.
Peter stood in the doorway.
Tall. Cold eyed and quiet.
The type of quiet that came just before something broke.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
His eyes moved from Lucas, to me and then back to Lucas again.
What I saw in them made my stomach twist. Disappointment, probably. But something more dangerous.
Rage, barely restrained.
“Deborah,” he said, a voice sharp and low.
I straightened, my chest rising. “Peter–”
“Go to your room.”
My throat tightened. “I–”
“Now.”
That one word was final. Carved in stone.
I glanced at Lucas, who hasn't moved yet. He didn't even look at me. His jaw clenched, shoulders squared like he was bracing for something.
That's when the unease truly settled into my bones.
I turned without another word and stepped out of the room.
My bare feet made soft taps against the polished wooden hallway as I walked, my heart was racing.
Something wasn't right.
I barely made it halfway down the corridor when the door slammed shut behind me.
Then… a shout.
Lucas.
“Don't you dare touch her again, boy!” Peter's voice roared through the walls.
More shouts came out from that room, each shout giving me a bigger blow to my stomach.
“I care about her, I'd never hurt her!”
“You'll stay away from her, do you hear me?”
A loud thud.
Something, furniture, a fist?
I flinched as I couldn't find the answer. My throat tightened and my eyes welled up.
“If I ever find out that you have touched her again, I swear to God-”
I covered my ears and backed into a wall, my breathing became shallow.
What scared me most was that there was no more shouting.
Just silence.
This was worse.
I waited for the door to open, for something or someone to come out, but silence came. Thick and final.
I stood in the hallway trembling, my heart splintering.
For the first time ever I realized something.
Love could be dangerous.
The day went by and Lucas still hasn't reported yet.
I felt that something had gone terribly wrong.
On my way down, I asked a few people but they all gave the same answer.
“Who is he?”
How can they not know their boss?
So how on earth where they hired?
Who hired them?
Was Lucas not the Manager and the one in charge here?
A million questions rushed through
my mind as I made my way home.
It was dark outside and I kicked off my shoes and rubbed the back of my neck.
The quiet of the apartment felt like a blanket I don't want.
Knock. Knock.
My brows furrowed.
Who the…?
I opened the door and there he was.
Lucas.
Leaning heavily against the hallway wall. His jacket was rumpled, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, his chest rising and falling like he had just finished running a marathon. His tie hung loose and twisted, his eyes, dark and gloomy, was a storm.
“Lucas?”
He tried to speak, but the words were tangled in his mouth. His lips twitched and his body swayed.
Then without warning… he collapsed.
I barely caught him before he hit the ground, staggering under his weight.
“Lucas?!”
The stench of whiskey punching my nose, made me realize he was drunk, gone. The stench clu
ng to him like a second skin. His head lolled to my shoulder and for a terrifying moment, he didn't respond.
My pulse screamed in my ears as I lowered him gently to the floor brushing his forehead.
What the hell happened to him?
- Writer
