Twisted Choice

James

'Maybe not, but I can!!' An unfamiliar voice exclaims pulling George away from me, causing him to release his grip. It's James! He came back, and just in time too.

'Who the hell are you?' George raises his voice in defence. Taking a step towards James trying to show his dominance, but James doesn't faulter. Both men are about the same height and build, staring each other, practically eye to eye. Maybe James is slightly smaller but you couldn't tell with the power in his stance. He can definetly hold his own.

'I'm Lucy's new friend, who the hell are you?' James replies calmly, setting George on edge as he has never been challenged so calmly before. Most people bow down to him, due to his height and because he's so high up within the offices, no one dare speak down to him for fear of losing their jobs. But James, James doesn't care, he doesn't fear or respect George in this moment.

'Im her fiance' he answers as if he has all the power.

'Ex Fiance' I counter, 'You have a new one now remember?' bringing him back to reality.

'Well then, it seems you have somewhere else to be.' James comands reminding George he doesn't actually have any power here, not anymore. George looks back to me, is he hoping im going to save him? cause that man is, s**t out of luck. I wouldn't save him, not after everything he has said today.

'Fine' George replies finally getting the not so subtle hint that he's not welcome here right now. 'I'll message you later when I've picked the kids up from Clara's, please though Lucy, try and rest whilst you're here.' Why does he have to know me so well, how can he possibly know I haven't been sleeping well?

'You never sleep well away from home.' He says answering my unspoken question. Bastard.

'I'll talk to you soon' he promises as he exits the room, never sharing another glance with either me or James, as if he is too important to allow himself to do that.

'I'm so sorry about George' I confess to James, I never wanted him to return to save me from my ex as well as from death its self. I don't want to know what this poor man thinks of me.

'Don't worry about it, not you fault he's off his rocker' He mutters turning to face me, instead of the door George just exited.

'I'm glad you came back' I exclaim gesturing for him to sit in the chair next to me.

He hesitates briefly and then glides himself gracefully into the chair. He's smarter today, shirt, fitted jeans and smart shoes instead of the ill-fiting clothes he was wearing last time he was here. He looks bigger today, the shirt clings to his muscles enhancing his masculinity, his jeans hug his legs showing off his powerful thighs, everything about him screams of gorgeous masculinity. Including his face that is just a rugged as I remember. His thick wavey hair dancing in the sunlight as he runs his hand through it pushing its length out o his face, showing off his dazzling baby blues. He knows hes attractive, he knows what he's doing and he has most definetly done this before.

'So' he announces casually as he leans back in his chair rasing his legs to cross the other, further more showing off his stature.

'Jessica said you were keen to talk to me.' He says serious but with a glimmer of an undertone.

'I was, I mean I am.' I mutter utterly distracted by him, he knows it too. A shadow of a smurk crosses his lips as he drops his legs and sits up straight.

'Okay, whenever you're ready.' He states his ego starting to frustrate me.

'Yes I want to ask you a few questions, about the night you found me.' I state, sitting up myself now trying to make my body seem as confident as my voice.

'I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I will try to answer all of your questions as honestly as I can.' He states, displaying his professional business man side as clear as day, he wants no emotion in this. I suppose that makes sense, finding a women half naked and stabbed must of been alot to deal with, maybe this is how he's choosing to cope.

'How did you find me? I mean I know you say you were locking up but how did you see me if I was laying on the floor in an alley in the dark?' I lock eyes with him as I speak hoping for some clue about who did this to me, about whether he did this to me. As right now he's the only one who was anywhere near. What doesn't make sense is that if it was him, why bring me here? Why wait for me to gain consciousness? Surely that would risk his exposure, so then surely its not him?

'I was taking the bins out, the outside bins are directly at the bottom of the alley as its easier access for the bin men, it was just by chance that I saw your hand from behind one of the storage bins' He states without missing a beat.

'Storage bins?'

'Yeah, we have these metal shed like boxes out back, for storing extra supplies, as we lost alot of storage space, when the bar was renovated.' He explains before continuing.

'As I was putting the bags in the bin, I thought I saw a hand, as I stepped closer to investigate, I saw the blood. I realised you'd been there a while and that we couldn't wait for an ambulance. With the hospital only a 5 minute car ride it was just faster for me to drive you.'

'How bad was it?' I ask tentitively now, I know this is hard for him, it should be hard for me but it feels like I am talking about someone else. Not having my memories means I can distance myself from the attack, the only reminder I have is the pain, which will eventually only be scars.

'It was pretty bad, your clothes were torn, you had two gashes across the backs of your thighs, and a pretty deep cut to your shoulder. The doctors said when I brought you in that you barely had a pulse, and that if I had waited even 10 minutes longer you would of died.' He answers, he seems honest, genuine. He didn't have to bring me straight here, he could of called and waited for the ambulance. He didn't have to come to hospital to make sure I am okay, and he definetly didn't have to return now for me to interigate him.

'Why did you save me?' He frowns at me now, confused.

'Why wouldn't I? I found you which then made you my responsibility. I couldn't just leave you there and hope someone else would save you.' There's an undertone of annoyance now.

'I didn't mean to upset you, it was just alot of responsibility you took upon yourself. You removed me from the scene of a crime, you talked to my doctors, you stayed until I gained consciousness and you're here now letting me interigate you. I just don't quite understand why? I mean theres nice and then there's NICE. You've done more than just your civil duty, you're a hero, my hero.' As the last words leave my mouth, has eyebrows rise in a look of shock.

'I'm not a hero' He mutters back looking at his hands now, 'I feel this pull towards you that I can't explain and I needed to know you were safe' he says, his eyes meeting mine. He likes me? Is this even okay? Surely this is too weird, I mean he's seen me the worst possible way. But to be fair he didn't say he likes me, he said he feels a pull, like what a sense of duty?

'I am safe now thanks to you. Can I ask you a favour?' Now I'm the one looking at my hands.

'Will you help me find him?' I look at him now trying to gauge his reaction, but his face doesn't faulter.

'Why? Why do you want to find him? Surely the police have a better chance at that than us?' He states matter of fact. He's probably not wrong, but they won't use the same tactics I'm willing to use.

'Because I want to tell him to his face, that a disgusting piece of s**t like him can only have a women like me through the use of drugs and r**e, that he would never stand a chance with me in a million years, I want him to suffer the way I suffered. I want to cut him the way he cut me, and I want to see the smile wipe off of his face as I take from him what he loves most ensuring he can never hurt another women again.'