CHAPTER 9: THE FRACTURE
1367 Words
CHAPTER 9
THE FRACTURE
POV: d**k Hawthorne
Dick should have known the day was going to become unbearable the moment Grey Sinclair walked into the boardroom ten minutes late looking entirely unaffected by existence.
Calm. Collected. Perfectly composed.
Dick hated him immediately.
More specifically, d**k hated the sharp pulse low in his chest that arrived every single time Grey entered a room lately.
Which was significantly more irritating.
“Apologies,” Grey said smoothly, taking his seat beside Claire. “Legal delayed me.”
“No one believes that,” Claire replied without looking up from her tablet.
Grey ignored her effortlessly.
Dick focused aggressively on the financial report in front of him.
Or attempted to.
Unfortunately, Grey loosened his cuffs while sitting down, and d**k’s concentration abandoned him instantly.
Unbelievable.
“You’re glaring at page six like it insulted your family,” Claire observed.
Dick didn’t look up. “It might have.”
Across the table, Grey’s mouth shifted very slightly.
Not a smile.
Worse.
Dick returned to glaring at the report out of self-preservation.
The quarterly acquisition review meeting began moments later. Department heads moved through revenue projections while board members interrupted periodically with concerns regarding expansion pacing and overseas investments.
Usually d**k dominated discussions like this effortlessly.
Today his patience lasted approximately fourteen minutes.
“The revised projections are overly cautious,” one board member argued.
“They’re realistic,” d**k replied.
“We risk losing momentum.”
“We risk losing forty million dollars if logistics destabilize again.”
The board member frowned. “You’re overestimating the threat.”
“No,” d**k said coolly. “You’re underestimating your own ignorance.”
Silence settled instantly across the room.
Claire closed her eyes briefly. Probably praying for endurance.
The board member’s expression hardened. “With respect, Hawthorne—”
“With respect,” d**k interrupted, “if you’d actually reviewed the updated reports instead of skimming summaries written by people paid to simplify information for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Ah.
There it is.
The room went completely still.
Dick vaguely registered several executives avoiding eye contact.
Someone near the far end of the table stopped typing entirely.
Objectively, perhaps he was being slightly aggressive.
Unfortunately, he no longer cared.
“Dick.”
Grey’s voice cut smoothly through the silence.
Low. Controlled.
Dick turned toward him sharply.
Grey met his gaze evenly from across the table.
No embarrassment. No judgment.
Worse: calm intervention.
“The revised shipping models support his concern,” Grey said to the board member before d**k could speak again. “Particularly after the Singapore delays.”
The tension in the room eased slightly.
The board member looked relieved to redirect the conversation toward someone less homicidal.
Grey continued smoothly, “We can revisit acceleration after the end of the fiscal year stabilization.”
Professional. Measured. Diplomatic.
Dick hated how effortlessly he repaired situations.
The chairman nodded. “That seems reasonable.”
Discussion resumed gradually around the table.
Dick stared down at his notes without reading a single word.
Because Grey had just done the one thing d**k could not tolerate right now:
Protected him.
The realization landed hot beneath his ribs.
Not professionally. Personally.
That made it unbearable.
For the rest of the meeting, d**k avoided looking directly at him.
Unfortunately, awareness didn’t require eye contact anymore.
He still noticed:
Grey turning pages
Grey speaking calmly to investors
Grey leaning back slightly while listening
Grey watching him during pauses in discussion
Every detail lodged itself somewhere inconvenient.
By the time the meeting finally adjourned ninety minutes later, d**k’s patience had deteriorated completely.
Executives filtered out quickly, relieved energy spreading visibly through the room.
Cowards.
Dick gathered his documents sharply and moved toward the exit.
“Dick.”
He ignored it.
“Dick.”
Closer now.
God.
Dick stopped near the hallway outside the boardroom but didn’t turn around immediately.
He heard the door close behind him.
Silence settled across the private corridor.
Then: “You’re angry.”
Dick laughed once under his breath. “What gave it away?”
Grey stepped closer. Measured. Careful.
Dick hated that caution almost as much as he hated the fact that he noticed it.
“You were about thirty seconds away from verbally dismembering a board member,” Grey said calmly.
“He deserved it.”
“Probably.”
Dick turned sharply then.
“Then why intervene?”
There it was.
The real question.
Grey’s gaze held his steadily.
“Because you were escalating.”
“I had it handled.”
“I know.”
That answer hit harder than it should have.
Dick’s jaw tightened. “Then next time let me handle my own meetings.”
Something shifted quietly in Grey’s expression then.
Not irritation.
Understanding.
Which somehow made everything worse.
“This isn’t about the meeting,” Grey said softly.
Dangerous sentence.
Dick stepped closer before he could stop himself.
“Don’t.”
Grey remained still. “Don’t what?”
“Act like you suddenly understand me.”
Grey’s eyes stayed fixed on his.
“I understand enough.”
That snapped something loose beneath d**k’s control instantly.
“You understand enough?” d**k repeated quietly. “You’ve spent two weeks provoking me in conference rooms and touching me whenever you feel like destabilizing my nervous system, and now suddenly you think you understand enough?”
The words echoed sharply through the empty corridor.
Silence followed immediately.
Dick realized what he’d admitted approximately one second too late.
Grey went very still.
Dick’s pulse slammed once against his ribs.
Excellent. Fantastic. Humiliating.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Grey said quietly.
Dick looked away immediately. “That wasn’t your first clue?”
“No.”
Grey stepped closer.
Too close now.
“But it confirmed something.”
Dick forced himself to meet his gaze again. “What?”
Grey watched him for one long second.
Then: “That I affect you exactly as much as you affect me.”
The corridor became suffocatingly quiet.
Dick forgot how breathing worked briefly.
Grey’s expression remained controlled, but the restraint beneath it had sharpened visibly now.
Less careful. More honest.
That terrified d**k instantly.
Because for the first time, Grey no longer looked merely observant.
He looked certain.
Dick’s voice came out lower than intended. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grey held his gaze. “No?”
“No.”
A lie.
Both of them knew it.
Grey’s attention dropped briefly toward d**k’s mouth before lifting again.
The movement lasted less than a second.
It nearly destroyed d**k’s remaining composure anyway.
Jesus Christ.
“You don’t get to look at me like that,” d**k said quietly.
Grey’s expression shifted slightly. “How am I looking at you?”
Dick opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because the answer was impossible.
Like he wanted him. Like he already had. Like he was trying very hard not to cross a line neither of them could uncross.
Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor.
Reality crashed back immediately.
Dick stepped backward first.
Again.
Grey noticed that too. Of course he did.
Claire appeared around the corner holding a tablet before stopping abruptly.
Her eyes moved between them once.
Then narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
“Well,” she said carefully. “Should I come back later, or are we only emotionally threatening each other today?”
Dick closed his eyes briefly.
Grey looked entirely too composed beside him.
Claire stared another second before sighing deeply. “I’m updating my resignation letter preemptively.”
Then she walked away again muttering something about executive instability.
Silence returned.
Dick rubbed a hand over his face once.
Grey was still watching him.
Always watching him.
“You should go,” d**k said quietly.
Grey didn’t move immediately.
Then: “You’re still running.”
Dick lowered his hand slowly. “And you’re still following.”
Something unreadable flickered briefly through Grey’s expression.
Not amusement.
Something softer. More dangerous.
“Not this time,” Grey said quietly.
Then he stepped back.
And walked away first.
Dick stood alone in the corridor long after the sound of Grey’s footsteps disappeared.
For reasons he absolutely refused to examine, that felt infinitely worse.
- Writer
