Witness

34. Kaiden

Chelsea is avoiding me. 

At first I thought it was about Thursday night, but now I'm starting to think otherwise. She saw Damien on Friday and I haven't seen her since. It freaks me out. It makes me nervous. 

I'm not good with being nervous. 

The idea of having sex with her scares me enough. If Damien has actually poisoned her against me? Fucking hell, I don't know what I'll do. 

Damien shouldn't even know about me. Tony never got his phone call - slightly illegal, but necessary. Reed finally told me on Saturday that he was finding a way around it, but we needed to speed things up. 

Damien needs putting away. Soon. 

It's where my priorities should lie. It's what I should be pinpoint focused on. We're so close to getting him - we have the paid staff sheets, the club making too much money, witnesses in protection ready to take the stand, ex-staff who don't know enough. All we need is the actual product, and I still haven't worked out where it is. 

The more we collect, the easier the trial. 

But, like I said, it's where my priorities should lie. It's not where they are. 

"Chelsea," I speak as soon as she picks up the phone. 

"Hey," she replies gently. "I only have a minute or two. I'm about to head into a meeting." 

"I only need a minute." 

She sighs. Ouch. "Then shoot." 

Maybe it is about Thursday night. 

"Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped the line-" 

"Kade..." 

"No, seriously. This is weird, Chelsea. If you're worried about anything else happening then you don't need to worry-" 

"I have to go." 

"Jones," I groan. 

"I'll see you soon, Kaiden." 

She hangs up the phone. I tap my fingers on the steering wheel in front of me and throw my head back against the headrest. 

My intuition is decent; it has to be in my line of work. I can usually tell when a guy is cheating on his wife within the first five minutes of meeting him. It's a sixth sense. And something about this is bugging me. 

I roll my head to the left and look at her little Toyota, a bit less beat up than usual. She must have had someone look at it. 

With another groan, I get out of my car and slam the door. 

I'm not going to get anywhere if we keep having these quick conversations over the phone. Best to corner her at work, at least then her mum won't be around to distract me with coffee and biscuits and a thousand questions. 

Her office car park is big and full, as is the office building. The woman behind the desk doesn't blink an eye as I walk over to the elevator and press the button for her floor. 

Fuck it. I'll wait in her office all day if I have to. 

The floor is relatively empty, with only a few people glancing up from their desks. The door to Chelsea's office is wide open so I waste no time in walking over there and stepping inside, closing it behind me. 

At least she didn't lie - she probably is in a meeting. 

I sit in her swivel chair and kick off from the ground. 

I love the waiting game. 

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