Say It

Chapter 14: Flashback

Cassies POV:

The weekend went by and I successfully avoided the jackass the rest of it. I also haven't talked with Claudia much since Friday, so hiding my awful hand marks has been fairly easy. It's already Monday morning so I push myself from bed in dyer need of some coffee. Friday night's encounter lingered in my dreams at night and left the gate open, allowing more memories it had seemed I forgot about to flood in sharing a space in my mind.

My dreams just showed me how oblivious to Trey's sadistic mind I really was. Way before the first time he had ever hit me, there was this argument that ended with me being cornered on the wall.

*** just a little flashback for our flashback.

No matter how hard I try, I can't control my anger. I know he was flirting with that waitress. I had seen it with my own eyes. She gave him her number and he happily took it. "Babe, I didn't flirt with her." I loudly and irritably scouff. Does he think I'm a fool? "Sany," He says the nickname he gave to me in hopes I will just ignore and forget the issue at hand. "I was being polite. I didn't want to embarrass her. I would never have called her."

"Then what gave her the bright idea of handing YOU HER NUMBER?" I huff again, slightly turning towards the window. "You gave her the impression that there was a chance."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence as I digested and he thought of a way to get out of this. Nothing would get him out of this. Once we got back to his place, I storm out of the car and to the door to get my keys and leave. Before I can get back out the door, Trey is standing in the way, blocking the door. "You aren't leaving."

"Watch me." I try to push by him but he stands taller, more intimidating. "Trey, move. Now." I push again, but still he stands in the way.

"You are not leaving this house. I SAID I didn't try anything with her." This time his hands grips my arms tighter and harsher than anything I've ever experienced with him.

"Ouch, stop. Trey! You are hurting me!" I say, but he doesn't let up. His eyes showcasing every inch of anger. Maybe detest. But something else lingers and I can't quite figure it out. He pushes me back into the house against the wall before slamming the door behind him, closing the way for me to escape.

*** End

Later that night, after he stormed out to "calm down", he came back with flowers, hot cheetos, and Dr pepper. I wasn't crazy over the flowers, but the food was my favorite. I gave in and believed there was no way he would cheat and him laying his hands on me in that way was merely an unscripted show of his emotions because of the thought of losing me. We laid in bed that night while he rubbed my back, legs and my arms, leaving little sweet kisses all over me and apologizing.

I push the memory back in and try my best to close the flood gate that was opened Friday and grab my coffee. Claudia left a note on the fridge saying she'd see me later, that she had to be at work early because of a field trip to the museum. I know she's trying to avoid me, but I don't know why. I want to tell her about the night with Jameus, but I need to wait just a little longer. I don't ever plan to let him do it again or have the chance to, but he doesn't seem like the kind to mess with. He knows where I live and he knows about Claud. If he is anything like the monster I've escaped from, then it can't be trusted that he wouldn't try to harm her. I need a plan, I guess.

I'm finally at work, sitting at my desk. I received an email last night saying the A/C wasn't working. It's nearing the end of August and it seems the weather is playing a game from back home with this stifling heat. I chose to wear a dress tank with a cardigan and I'll keep my door locked so I can take off the cardigan. I'm wearing a black skirt along with it so I won't burn up.

I shoot Stacy a quick email asking that Jameus not be allowed up or in the building. I may not be able to control much when it comes to my home, but I will not have him coming to my work thinking he can just do as he pleases. At least not until I have a plan.

There's a knock on my door, so I quickly throw on my cardigan and open it. "Easton?" I open the door a little more and motion for him to sit. "What do I owe the pleasure?" He grins, shaking his head softly.

"Nothing really, I just thought I would grace your office with my handsome and intellectual presence." He smirks bowing his head as if honoring me with his words.

I stifle a laugh and move my hand to cover my smile, resting my elbow on my desk. He clears his throat, showing me the folder in his hand, letting me know he is strictly here for business. "I come baring a gift." I eye him susipiously as I reach for the folder. I lay it in front of me again, taking one last glance at him before finally opening it.

I don't understand what this is in front of me. I've never been good with numbers and this confuses me. How is this a gift? "I'm not sure what I'm looking at here, E."

"Read," he leans over and points to the line just below all the mumbo jumbo of numbers. "here."

"Foresight." I say and look back at him. This is one of the first manuscripts I read when I started here at GHP. About the guy who has visions and is also a police detective. It was an amazing book I didn't want to put it down. I turned that in the same day I started it with all my notes. I absolutely thought it should get published, but I hadn't heard anything about it so I assumed nothing ever came of it. "I still don't get it."

He huffs out a little smile and shakes his head. "This is a draft of numbers for the production of that book. Rough estimates of publication, book sales, tours, etc. Costs of anything that might need to be done and need to be done for this book." he finishes and looks back to my broad smile.

"I can't believe it. He's actually publishing it?" he nods with a wide grin of his own."But why? What does this have to do with me other than I gave it a thumbs up?"

"Ah, he wants you to upload the story to our platform of paid readers. Promote the book so that all the readers can see it and give them a chance to read it and give you feedback. The book will cost a lot of money being a supernatural-fantasy book. We have published two fantasy books and both failed. From the way Lincoln talked, this book is far better than those two were,"

"But we can't afford another loss like those other books." I finish for him and he just nods.

"He only uses that platform when he has a book that he isn't sure of. It allows us to know how books will do once released.He wants you over everything with this book. The release, publication, the author, budgets, agents."

My jaw drops slightly "Oh my lanta." I jump up, too excited for my own good. I run my hands through my raven strands and grip at the back of my head and turn to look out the window. "I can't believe this." I turn back around at Easton's happy face. "Does he always do this?"

"Rarely ever does he completely hand over full control like he has to you. Usually only with the most senior editors." I must look like an i***t the way he begins to laugh at my shocked state.

"I don't understand." I look back out the window. I guess I don't give a damn. "I don't care why, but I don't understand it." I spin back around fully expecting to be met with the same excited look. Instead, Easton's face has fallen and his eyes are staring down. I follow his gaze to my arms and realize, in a heap of excitement, my cardigan had fallen below my arms.

I quickly yank the sweater up and squeezed it tight to my chest as if it would erase what he had just seen. He's still staring hard at my arms as if he could still see the marks that pledged both arms. I fall back into my chair in an attempt to steady my breath. "East," I begin, but I have no words for him. It's not something that can easily be explained. The bruises on my arms look-

"Thoses are bruises, Cassie." His eyes meet mine and they are full of rage. "Who the hell gave you those?" He stalks back and forth trying to calm his anger. Before I can open my mouth, he starts talking again. "And don't lead me to no bullshit about some accident." He turns and looks back at me.

"If I tell you, will you please keep it to yourself. Let me figure out what I need to do." He stares at me for a minute. He searches my eyes and watches any change of face I show. He wants a reason to not accept my terms, but he has none. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath nodding his head.

I told Easton everything. How Jameus acted that night, how he treated me, and what he said to me. He was furious with him and me because I didn't do anything about Jameus. I was shocked and a little terrified at the moment and I didn't act on the things that transpired. But I promised him I would find a way to get back at him. And after some major coaxing and lots of promises, Easton finally calmed down and left my office.

I go over the paper work, trying to rack my brain over the fact that Lincoln trust me enough to let me lead this project. Everytime I think he can't surprise me more, he does something like this. I think I'd just bruised his ego when I told him I didn't want to date, then Jameus showed up. I really have given him the wrong impression and that's not what I meant to do. And no matter how much I hate to admit it, he has been a great boss. He seems very into the company. He's been in every meeting I have. Even meetings about low budget books or meetings with authors of low budget books. It's like he wants to be part of it all. I email Oliver Williams, the author of Foresight, asking for a digital file of the book so I can upload it to R.A. Readers anonymous, the reading platform for the paid readers. Easton thinks it's so they can stay private readers, but really, its like a inside joke between people who really love to read. It's an addiction that never seems to ease and only gets worse with time. The only thing is that it's not bad for you, like drugs. But you'll always be chasing that first "High". Always looking for a book that is as good as the book that made you love them all.

While I'm in my email, I pull up Lincoln's address and type a very sweet, sincere, and totally appropriate email thanking him.

To: LincGreB@gmail.com

From: cassanta4@gmail.com

Mr.Greene,

I wanted to thank you for such an amazing gift. Letting me have the lead with Foresight. It's a dream. I am absolutely baffled. And so very grateful. Also, very pleased you enjoyed it. I began working right way to get it published to R.A. and I promise to have a report written up ASAP. Thank you!

-Cassie Beyers

I smile as I hit send feeling extra giddy. I was so damn excited to have this chance to have my own project and, honestly, so excited he wanted me to have it.

Getting back to work, I let hours pass before I realize it's now lunch time, all thanks to my grumbling stomach. Before I go, I decide to check my emails. Just who I had hoped for. I quickly clicked on Lincoln's email, smiling at the thought of him.

To: cassanta4@gmail.com

From: LincGreB@gmail.com

Ms.Beyers,

It seems you're the one giving me gifts, Santa. Maybe naughty Santa, seeing as you want me pleased.

I'm pleased you want me pleased. Professionally, of course.

Truthfully, I'm honored to have such a talented person on my team. Someone who is as intelligent, spunky, and enticing as you are. I put my complete faith in you. Don't bankrupt the company. ;) We'll talk soon.

-Lincoln Greene

Cheeky bastard. Yet, I can't wipe this goofy grin off my face. It's starting to hurt from all the smiling. Believing that he'd ever say sweet things about me without really being dirty, was something I thought might never happen, since I haven't given him much of a reason. And him referring to everyone here as a team instead of his company shows how much he truly loves his business and takes pride in the work they have accomplished.

Clicking the reply button, I begin to send another email addressing his cheekiness, but a soft knock and the opening of my door stops me. For a moment too long, I forget about my cardigan being thrown behind me and realize Easton didn't lock the door on the way out.

Just my luck, Lincoln strolls in as his eyes travel over me and stop at my very dark, very noticeable arms. Neither of us moving. Stuck at a standstill, me watching him and him watching me. His breathing quickened pace, no doubt trying to contain whatever is raging inside. I bend to pick my cardigan up and throw it back on, but before I have the chance, he's at my side, kneeled down next to my chair. His hands firmly but softly take hold of my arms. Slowly, his thumbs slide over the bruises. He's definitely angry. I can feel it rolling off him, but his eyes are soft. Like he doesn't want me to fear him, but I could never. Those amazing sage and honey mixed eyes swarm mine. His hand moves for a moment, just a moment, and grazes my cheek. I realize he wiped away a single tear that I didn't even know I had.

I look down, letting go of a heavy sigh. When my eyes trail up his amazing blue button up shirt to dance with his again, I noticed the glistening in them. As he blinks, the water falls in a perfect slow motion. A flood of emotion I've never seen from any man, except maybe my dad, falling and wetting his perfect face. I reach up and wipe his away in the same manner, only leaving my hand to rest on his cheek for bit. He leans in to the touch, closing his eyes and humming in approval.

My body is on fire. Not just in desire, but something else I can't explain. This is nothing I've felt before. My stomach in knots, my brain jumbled, and my heart speeding. Maybe it's a heart attack. Instead of pulling away, though, I savor the feeling of bliss and allow us to float on this cloud a little longer.

"What happened?" he stony voice rips away our moment and runs. His eyes stay closed for a moment more, only shooting open to search my eyes for any answers he wants. "Cas, tell me." He voice demands me, but his eyes pled with me and I can't not tell him what happened. But as my mouth opens, the slick voice of none other than Jameus echos outside my door before he walks in.

My body stiffens as he stares between Lincoln and me, knowing what we're talking about. My face betrays me as anger bubbles to the surface, giving Lincoln all the answers he needs. He's quick to his feet and in front of Jameus before I can process what's happening. Jameus smirks, but it doesn't take long for Lincoln to wipe his face clear of it. He knocks Jameus right on his ass before jumping over top of him. He's going to kill him.