Strangers At The Alter

29

Trigger warning: Mentions of sexual assault/abuse

We stan possessive boss man Andy 

Andy called Gregory into his office almost as soon as he had arrived at work the next morning. He told the man to close the door and sit down, and, leaning back in his chair, said, "What's your stance on non-consensual sex, Gregory?" 

"Sorry?" 

"What's your stance on non-consensual sex? Come on, it's a simple question to answer." Andy folded his arms. 

"I suppose I'm against it," Gregory said. "You called me into ask about this?" 

"No, Lincoln. I called you in to ask why you raped my husband. Any thoughts on that? I'd love to hear your side of the story, really." 

"What are you talking about?"

Andy smiled and opened the drawer to his left, took out a printed photo of Remington from the photoshoot he did for the website. "Recognise him?" 

Gregory observed the picture, tried to act like he was thinking about whether he'd seen Remington before. "No," he said eventually. 

Humming, Andy put the photograph down on his desk and crossed his legs. He exhaled calmly and tilted his head, said, "I see." 

"Why did you want to see me?" 

"Alright, let's try this. Gregory, where were you two days ago when you left work early?" 

"I didn't leave work early." 

"Really. You're going to lie to me, the owner of this entire company." 

"I didn't leave work early," he repeated, and Andy hummed, smiled. 

"No? Oh, right. I suppose it was someone else who punched my husband in the stomach so hard that he passed out. Well, that's fine, then. You're free to go." 

Gregory began to stand and Andy slammed the desk with his fist.

"Obviously not. I started this company when I was a fucking kid, I'm not messing around. You're fucking with more than just me, you realise that? Every single person who works in this building and in every other building that I own is loyal to me, Lincoln. And anyone who isn't, anyone who thinks it's okay to lie to me, to go behind my back, does not get to work for me anymore." 

"Andy-" 

"Why does everyone think it's okay to call me Andy? My name at work is always Andrew. Don't you dare call me Andy, that's reserved for my friends and my family. Now sit back down and listen to me." He picked up the photo again and held it up. "Tell me who this is," he demanded. 

Sinking back into the chair, Gregory wouldn't look at the picture. "I don't know," he said. 

"Tell me who this is, Lincoln. This is your last chance to tell me the fucking truth." 

"I don't know." 

"Maybe this with spark a few ideas." Turning his computer screen around, Andy pressed play on the security footage of Remington and Gregory outside the gates. He folded his arms. "Now, Lincoln. Tell me who this is." 

"You don't know that's me." 

"Don't you dare pull this shit with me. You hurt my husband so much he got sepsis, you do not get to lie to me now. Do you know how painful sepsis is? Do you have any idea the suffering you put that poor man through? Gregory, he nearly died. He nearly died, and you're sitting here lying to me. You fucking disgusting human." 

"You can't give a person sepsis." 

"No. No, no, no. Shut the fuck up. You speak to me one more time, and I swear to God, I'll give you sepsis. And unlike my husband, you won't be driven to the hospital. Tell me the fucking truth, Gregory! What did you do to my husband?" 

"He's not your husband." 

"You know damn well he is." 

"Your marriage was terminated." 

Andy shook his head. "You knew he was - is - mine, and you still...you still married him. You piece of fucking shit! Do you know how fucking hard it's been for him? Yes, of course you do. You made it harder! You locked him up, you raped him. You raped him so much that he got multiple fucking STI's! So here's what's going to happen now. You're going to get the fuck off my property. That includes the house that came with your job. And you're going to live on the fucking streets until you die. And if I ever walk past you, I won't even look at you, and you can live the rest of your life in the misery of knowing that you ruined your own life. You're going to suffer, Lincoln! You're going to fucking suffer for what you've done!" 

"You can't do that!" 

"Did you not listen to everything I just said? I own everything to do with this company. Every building, ever computer, every staff car, every uniform, and every fucking house that comes with the job! You're fired, Lincoln, and all of that, everything I have provided you with, it's gone. It's all gone. So you better find yourself a good spot on the street." Holding up the photograph, his jaw tightened, and he said lowly, "No one hurts my boy. Now, get out." 

Gregory was shaken. Andy could tell, and the sight brought great satisfaction. "You're gonna regret this," he said. 

Andy hummed. "No, I don't think I will. Try not to fall over your own ego on the way down. I can see it dragging along the floor." He watched the man leave the room and close the door, and once he was gone, Andy smiled. He'd never fired someone and not regretted it before.