50 Shades of Drake 3 and 4

Torn: Chapter Six

    "He wants us to testify?" Destiny asked, following Aubrey inside of the condo and closing the door behind her. She locked it, then turned to face him.

    He loosened his tie and arched a glance at her. "Yeah. To help make sure Palmer stays behind bars."

    "Did he say when? Would we be flying to D.C?"

    "They don't know the trial date yet," he said, sounding exhausted. "But most likely, we'd have to fly to D.C., yes."

    "Wow."

    "Yeah. It was crazy to even hear his voice. Just...hearing him, took me back to..." A haunted look crept into his eyes. "It took me back to a dark time."

    "Well, you're safe now," she told him, walking up to him. "We both are."

    "Too bad he wasn't caught before Bridgette, Steve, and Rafael were killed," he muttered, bowing his head.

    She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her head to her chest. "He won't hurt anyone else, at least," she said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. "We've had a pretty intense day. We should...relax. Put a movie on, or listen to some music?"

    He shook his head. "I have to work on the contract."

    "You don't have to do that tonight," she told him. "You already look tired. Just...relax with me, and work on the contract tomorrow."

    "I'm going to work on the contract tonight," he said firmly. "The more quickly we get everything going, the more quickly it ends."

    She looked up at him. "Oh...okay, then."

    "I'm going to order takeout, so neither one of us has to cook. You can just...relax, do whatever your little heart desires, tonight." He pulled away from her and turned towards the stairs leading up to his loft office.

    "Do you need any help?" she asked him, taking a few steps towards him.

    "No, I got it," he called over his shoulder.

    "Okay." She bit her bottom lip, and glanced around the condo. She took off her shoes and, holding them in her hand, padded down the hall and into the master bedroom. Once she changed out of her work clothes and into pajama pants and a comfy tank top, she felt a lot less tense. How seriously Aubrey was taking this entire setup with Brian still concerned her, but she could understand why he was so serious about it. If the tables were turned and Aubrey was thinking about another woman while kissing her, she'd be heartbroken. He was handling this a lot better than she would have.

    She brought out her laptop case from the closet and carried it into the living room. After setting the laptop case on the couch, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Then, she returned to the living room couch and sat down. She set the wine glass down on a coaster on top of the coffee table and leaned back so she could unzip the laptop case. She plugged in the charger, booted up the computer, and logged into her Windows account.

    For nearly a half an hour, she surfed the internet idly, checking for new music videos or episodes of shows that she missed. Ever since she'd been involved with Aubrey, she hadn't kept up with any of her favorite television shows. She hadn't yet gotten familiar with Canadian television programming, either. She flipped until found something she liked, in the off chance she felt like watching television at all.

    The doorbell rang, and Aubrey called down to her that she could write in a tip on the receipt, since he paid for the order with his card. After sending the deliveryman on his way, she took the food bag upstairs and handed it to him. Without any shame, she glanced down at the papers on his desk. The pages were from the original contract she'd signed with him, months ago. There was also a legal notepad with his handwriting scribbled on it. He was making notes about what he wanted included in the contract.

    "Thank you," he told her with a tired smile after taking his food out of the bag. "Don't wait up for me. I'll probably work on this pretty late."

    Taking a page out of his book, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Don't work too hard," she said. "The only time crunch you're under is the one you've made for yourself."

    He nodded, then returned his gaze to his computer monitor.

    She peered inside of the bag, then closed it and took it with her downstairs. He'd ordered her one of her favorite Thai dishes, Pad Thai. She took the food container out of the bag and sat on the couch with one leg tucked beneath her. After taking a few bites, she set the food aside and shifted the laptop to her lap.

    While browsing, she came across an article about Palmer's arrest. She frowned at the small thumbnail photo and the headline beside it. Her fingers hovered over the mousepad. The last time she'd searched for information about Palmer on this computer, he'd launched an attack on Aubrey and sent both her and his life on a downward spiral they were still trying to recuperate from. Did she really want to click any news story with his name on it? She stared at her monitor with a contemplative frown. He has been arrested. He's in jail, and the FBI wants to make sure he stays there. He can't hurt you now. There's no reason to be afraid anymore. She cleared her throat and clicked on the story.

    The article served to be a gateway action that led to a series of clicks and scrolls. There was video footage of Palmer being taken into custody. She paused the footage on a still frame of his face. His eyes were looking directly at the camera. Images of Jeremiah haunted her. She could still remember what he felt like, standing behind her at the copier and pressing into her. The look in his eyes had been purely maniacal. Jeremiah had been an intern of all things, an intern notorious for falling asleep in department meetings...only it turned out that his naps were all a cover. He was working for Palmer, spying and reporting information back to him. Working to bury Aubrey, and ultimately assigned to kidnap Destiny, which was an assignment Jeremiah had been more than happy to take on.

    She wrapped her arms around herself while staring at her laptop monitor. Palmer's face leered at her, frozen in time. How can one man be so evil? she wondered. How can one man be so utterly monstrous? Forcing morbid, tragic memories out of her mind, she pressed Play so she could view the rest of the footage. As she watched the footage and read the articles, she could feel journalistic desire surging up within her. Journalism was something she missed with every fiber of her being. Public relations was interesting in its own right, but she wasn't at the forefront of the public relations department. At Graham Enterprises, she was just an entry level researcher. She missed writing articles, putting stories together, having her name on a byline. She missed reporting.