My Boss

Chapter Fifty Eight

Chapter Fifty Eight: Brooke

I thank Tom for the last time for doing what he did for me tonight as I made my way out of the taxi and into the entrance. I could feel my eyes weighing me down, and it's taking everything in me not to sleep on this very floor.

"Miss Smith?" Someone calls out, making me turn in the direction of which the voice is coming from. A tall man dressed in a ack suit approaches me. "Yes?"

"Sorry to disturb you in the early hours of the morning, but a letter came for you." E tells me, handing the letter over. It wasn't your typical bills or junk mail, it was a handwritten letter with only my name on the envelope.
"Oh, thank you. Who are you again?" I ask.
"I'm Sebastian, one of Mr Radcliffe's many body guards."

"Why haven't I seen you before?" I smile, making sure to tighten my jacket around my waist so that Sebastian doesn't notice the huge blood stain covering my dress.

"Some of us only work nights, Miss Smith."

"Please, call me Brooke." I insist, giving him a lazy smile. "It was nice meeting you, Sebastian. But in so exhausted? I've got to get myself some shut-eye."

"It was nice meeting you too. As you were." He nods, then sets off in the direction in guessing he came.

How strange.

I take the letter and tear it open with my finger, making my way into the kitchen.
I couldn't even tell you who I thought it was from, because I had no clue myself. The handwriting was basically a scribble, yet looked so familiar.

'You can't hide from me, beautiful. I'll always find you. Watch your back...
Earlier was just the beginning. Wouldn't want your boyfriend involved? Or do we ?'
It read, along with pictures of me and Sam seen here and there. Along with ones from tonight, with me looking like death itself. Tom looking after me as I'm holding my wound. On the back of that very photo it said 'Sam would just love this, wouldn't he? Watch your back sweetheart.'

I gulp, feeling the colour drain from my face as I re-read it over. And over. And over.

This can't be...

Tonight was no coincidence, it was bloody planned !

Well fuck a duck! Just when I thought everything was looking up.
I snap a photo of the letters on my phone, but dump the letter itself in the kitchen sink, setting them on fire.
I cover a yawn as I stare into the burning paper. I continue to stand there even when the ashes are only left.

I rinse down the remains down the drain and jump into the shower, knowing that it won't be long until Sam is here. I move carefully around my dressing, not really wanting to have another trip to the hospital so soon.

I stay in the shower until my fingers are beyond wrinkly, just thinking about tonight and what we do now.
I dress in some pyjamas shorts and a fluffy long sleeved top, so just in case I bleed it isn't noticeable. I pad back downstairs and take a seat, waiting for Sam's arrival. I'd been in the shower for just over an hour. So I knew it was only minutes - maybe seconds - before he was back.

I cautiously curl up in the sofa, flicking from channel to channel as I wait, sat in the dark, the only light appearing from the TV.
Another 30 minutes pass by, and i can feel m eyes fluttering closed every few seconds.
Unable to wait for another minute. I make a reach for my phone and dial his number .
My head whips in the direction to my left. A vibrating noise followed by a ringtone took place. I force my way off the settee and switch on the lights.

I roll my eyes at the discovery. Sam was sat on the single chair with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

"How long have you been sat there?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest slowly. Avoiding my dressing.

"Zince you gut out the shhower. Why?" He slurs at me, gulping at the bottle again.

"How much have you had to drink?" I ask again, to which he shrugs his shoulders, glaring at me.
I huff, not in the mood. "Give me the bottle." I request walking over to him and snatching the bottle out of his hand before he can pull away.

I pad my way back into the kitchen quickly, taking a gulp or two at the bottle myself before returning it to its shelf.
Sam is exactly where I left him, guessing he couldn't walk by himself. "Why zont you talk to me?" Sam slurs, clearly feeling sympathetic towards himself.

"Don't be silly Sam. I talk to you all the time. Look , I'm talking to you now." I huff, playing my act.

"But you don't talk talk to me. Not properly." He shot back.

"Come on, you need a bath," I avoid the subject, wanting to get him sobered up so I can talk to him.

But I don't see that happening anytime soon...

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I know I know !
Haven't really updated in... MONTHS !!

Times sure does fly! Didn't intend to leave it this long, and now I'll definitely see the consequences. Shit chapter. Getting back into it hopefully.

DO PRAY !! 😘