Chapter 8: Anger

Ed and I were not friends. He'd insisted on that over the past few months, and I'd gone along with it. While it had mainly seemed like a temporary barrier for the sake of my job, I knew he was also trying to protect our feelings by forcing distance between us. I understood that. I sympathised with it. I agreed to it.

But it still really pissed me off when he didn't reach out for the rest of the day. No apology or acknowledgement of what had happened. Nothing. Maybe he wanted to show me what it felt like to have the respect stripped away.

On Saturday evening, Mac and I took advantage of the milder weather and watched a film at an open-air cinema. My mind kept drifting off, though, replaying the earlier argument. This was why we weren't friends. Because if friends fought after giving each other orgasms, it would only end in hurt. And wasn't that what we were trying to prevent?

I wasn't even hurt about the physical side of our relationship. In fact, that remained the only part that seemed simple. We had strong chemistry. A strong working relationship. But a fucking great hole where a friendship used to be.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that. The banter between us came so fluidly that it almost felt like we were back in Europe together.

If only.

"Everything okay?" Mac asked during the Uber ride home.

"Shitty week at work." I sighed and rubbed at the bridge of my nose.

"Anything I can help with?"

Even though we'd grown closer, Mac was still a lawyer, and he'd struggle to take off his legal hat if I were to confide in him. Not to mention I didn't want to put him in a difficult position, thanks to his rules.

"Not really," I said. "Just caught between two different colleagues. And the one I want to be loyal towards isn't the one I should be loyal towards."

"Usually, the best thing to do in that situation is get them both in a room together and talk it through as a group. Find common ground and make them see each other's points of view instead of expecting you to choose."

Unfortunately I couldn't do that given that this whole situation relied on Helen not finding out.

"They have vastly different viewpoints," I said. "I don't think there is common ground."

"There's always common ground. They just don't know it yet because it means a solution that neither of them has thought of."

The car pulled up to the curb at the end of my street, and I unclipped my belt, leaning across to hug Mac.

"Thanks for tonight. Sorry I was bad company."

"You're never bad company, Palmer. Get some rest. Shit's always better in the morning."

As the car drove away, I set off down the pavement, pausing when I reached the alley that led to the side door. At nearly midnight, I could probably slip in unnoticed again to avoid the walk around the block. I'd got away with it recently and didn't want to push my luck, but I also didn't fancy walking an extra half a mile by myself this late at night when I could cut the corner and get back sooner.

I turned into the alley and picked up my pace, pulling up the hood of my hoodie in case that helped conceal me. Now that the thought of danger had crossed my mind, every shadow made me cower and every sound startled me. Next time I'd ask Mac to walk me to the door.

Two headlights illuminated the alley behind me, but when I looked over my shoulder, the beams disappeared. I could still hear the low growl of the car's engine, though, and immediately began to fish through my bag for my entry card.

Why would a car turn down an alleyway without any lights on?

As the sound of the engine grew closer, my card fell deeper and deeper into my handbag. My fingers fumbled through layers of junk until I finally found it, and in my rushed panic to tear it out of my bag, my phone clattered to the floor.

"Fuck." I bent to grab it just as the car levelled with me.

I leapt for the side entrance and smashed the card against the sensor. Shoving my shoulder against the door to open it, I slipped through the tiniest crack, and then spun around to slam it shut after me, breathing a sigh of relief when I heard the bleep of the lock.

As I caught my breath, I rested my head against the door, eyes closed and hands trembling. Then a knock landed on the other side of the wood, inches from my head, and I sprung backwards—instantly colliding with someone.

I spun with a shriek, and my dramatic reaction scared the fuck out of Lacey, too, whose startled scream nearly matched my own as she stumbled away from me.

"Shit." I clasped a hand over my racing heart. "I'm sorry. Thought I was being followed."

Another knock rattled the door, but having quickly deduced that the car probably belonged to Lacey's drivers—hence the lack of headlights so they could slip down the alley unnoticed—my attention drifted to her red-rimmed eyes and mascara-streaked cheeks.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

Her watery eyes narrowed. "What do you think?"

The lift pinged behind me, and the fright I'd felt at being followed paled in comparison to the sheer terror that zipped down my spine when a rough hand clasped my shoulder and shoved me up against the wall.

*

My shoulders slammed into the cool paintwork. My head flew backwards to follow, but its impact was cushioned by a soft palm that curled around my skull and absorbed the force of the collision.

Fear clawed through the pit of my stomach, but when I forced my eyes open to look at the assailant, my gaze landed on a familiar figure wearing a very unfamiliar expression.

"Sophia. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Anguish clouded Mark's face as his guilt-ridden eyes swept over my body, searching for damage. His large palms skimmed down my arms, and his featherlight touch, so gentle for someone so tough, calmed my racing heart.

"I'm fine." The words scraped at my dry throat, and I instinctively raised a hand to my neck. "I was already on edge, and you made me jump. I'm not hurt. Promise."

"I didn't recognise you with your hood up. I thought..."

Mark trailed off when his eyes landed on Lacey, and the brief concern he'd awarded me disappeared, instantly replaced by his standard hardened expression.

"What's going on?" His hands dropped from my arms, attention darting between Lacey and me.

"I'm sure Sophia can fill you in. Apparently there are no secrets anymore."

The venom dripping from Lacey's sweet, American accent stunned me. Clearly Ed had finally spoken to her, but had the conversation really gone this badly?

Mark directed his sharp gaze towards me, raising an eyebrow. "Well?"

Obviously he'd believed me when I'd said I was fine, given that he now seemed pissed off rather than worried. The speed with which he'd shifted back into his usual no-nonsense attitude almost led me to think I'd imagined his previous tenderness.

"No idea what she's talking about," I said.

Lacey stepped closer to me, her striking eyes glistening with a blend of tears and anger. For such a tiny person, she sure was fierce, and even the delicate fragrance of her floral perfume couldn't soften her furious demeanour.

"You fucking liar." She spat out the words through gritted teeth. "I swear to God, if you let him tell that journalist anything—"

She took another stride forwards, but Mark's arm darted out to catch her before she reached me. Out of instinctive self-preservation, I edged closer to the lift. Tonight I'd feared a suspicious car and a physical altercation. Little had I known, the real threat was Hollywood's sweetheart.

"Stay there, Sophia." Mark's icy snap froze me to the spot as I watched him steer Lacey towards the exit.

Naturally I considered pressing the button to make a run for it, but I didn't fancy my chances. So, instead, I took out my phone and began frantically typing.

Me: Favour – need back up in Mark's office. Bumped into

"I wouldn't if I were you."

My fingers paused as Mark stepped into the lift beside me, his broad stature dominating half the space. For someone who looked ready to kill me—this time with his eyes rather than his hands—he tapped his card against the sensor with terrifying nonchalance.

Me: Favour – need back up in Mark's office. Bumped into Lacey and we

"Put the phone away."

The stern warning had a menacing bite that left no room for misinterpretation. I knew he wouldn't hurt me—he'd proved that downstairs—but I also knew he had the power to do damage in plenty of other ways.

So I did as I was told, leaving the message half-written and pressing send. Ed could fill in the gaps himself; I refused to let him abandon me to deal with this epic clusterfuck alone.

The lift climbed at an agonisingly slow pace while my heart drummed against my ribcage. How could we get out of this? We couldn't. Lacey hadn't said much, but she'd said enough. Mark wasn't an idiot, and neither was Helen, but it still didn't take a genius to piece together the situation: Lacey's tears, the mention of a journalist, and her rage towards me—the girl who spoke to the media every day.

And judging by Mark's reaction, he'd already worked it out. Silent waves of anger seeped from his stiff body, thickening the tense air between us, choking me until I could barely think straight. His fists repeatedly clenched and unclenched by his sides, a vein in his throat throbbing. Only yesterday I'd taunted him in the corridor, desperate to elicit some kind of reaction that proved he wasn't as robotic as he pretended to be.

But fuck, I wished I had the robotic version of him now.

The lift bobbed to a gentle halt and the doors parted. Mark threw out an arm between them, waiting for me to step over the threshold and into the carpeted corridor. In my back pocket, my phone buzzed. I didn't dare take it out in front of Mark, but I hoped it wasn't Ed telling me where I could shove my favour.

I'd come good on his favour last night. He needed to swallow his pride and do the same for me.

I followed Mark down the hallways, feeling like a naughty kid being taken to the headmaster's office as we passed his various team members. When we continued beyond his office, however, I spotted the side-eye he threw me.

Had he seen the message I'd sent to Ed, or was he deliberately trying to prolong my torment? Either way, he'd derailed my plan—every door we left in our wake would make it harder and more time-consuming for Ed to find us.

We reached the end of the corridor, and Mark swiped his card again, holding open the door for me. I ducked under his arm, then fell into step beside him.

"As much as I appreciate the tour, I'm tired and want to go to bed. In case you've forgotten, I was up late last night looking after our mutual friend."

"I'm glad you're tired." He glanced down at me. "It'll be easier to find holes in your story."

Tugging down on the handle of an unfamiliar door, he pushed it open and gestured for me to step inside.

Sterile white walls greeted me, and the absence of windows reinforced the room's clinical appearance. Overhead lighting bounced off the incandescent surfaces, stinging my eyes as they tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of brightness. A large conference table filled up most of the space, and I tentatively lowered myself into one of the chairs.

Mark remained by the door, tapping away on his phone. With him distracted, I slid my own phone from my pocket and subtly unlocked it under the desk.

Logan McIntosh: Get home okay?

Nothing from Ed.

I tossed the phone onto the seat next to me, then drummed my fingers on the surface of the table.

"Who are we waiting for?" I asked Mark.

"Helen." He didn't look up from his screen.

"Payback for her dragging you in on your day off?"

His eyes flicked up to land on me, and his expression softened. "Are you okay?"

The sudden change in attitude confused me. I threaded my fingers together on the table and bit my tongue, unsure whether this was a trap to lull me into a false sense of security.

Mark released a quiet sigh as he dropped his phone into his back pocket.

"I truly am sorry, Sophia. I heard the door go, heard the scream, didn't recognise you... Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." I leaned back in my chair. "It happened so quickly that I didn't really..."

His eyebrows knitted together. "Your head's not sore? I tried to stop it hitting the wall when I realised it was you, but I still shoved you quite hard."

"My head's fine."

He offered me a curt nod. "If you want to talk to someone, we can arrange that. You're about to get a massive bollocking and it'll all catch up to you at some point. Don't suffer alone."

Nice to know that I couldn't escape the massive bollocking either way. And also nice of him to warn me about it. Or maybe he was letting me stew so I'd crack more easily when pressure was applied.

Once again, the small dose of compassion didn't last long, and the tension returned to Mark's body when Ed's tall frame filled the doorway.

I withheld my sigh of relief, not wanting to be so transparent, but a thick lump still formed in my throat. He'd come through for me. We'd fought, parted on bad terms, and yet he still had my back, just like he'd promised all those months ago.

Sinking into the seat beside me, Ed's hand reached out under the table to squeeze my knee.

"What are you doing here?" Mark folded his arms, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

"Making sure that Sophia isn't pressured into admitting fault for something that was nothing to do with her," Ed replied, his thumb brushing a comforting path back and forth over my kneecap.

"Sorry I got the room wrong," I murmured as quietly as I could.

"That's the best and worst thing about having the same security officer for so long," Ed said, deliberately loud. "He knows all my dirty tricks, but I know all of his, too."

With a shake of his head, Mark looked away. If Ed had managed to find us despite Mark deliberately choosing a different room, it showed he'd come as soon as I'd texted. Already the emotions threatened to catch up with me, and I needed something to ground me back to reality.

I twisted to face him, but the words dried up in my mouth as I clocked his face close-up for the first time.

Eyes as red as Lacey's.

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

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How do you think it's going to go down with Helen? How will Mark react if he finds out that Ed paid off one of his officers to secretly take him somewhere?