Midnight Toxicity

41.

The raw truth of my terrible misadventure smacked me in the face six hours later. The violence wasn't unusual because my stepfather had often hit me while I slept, except this time the owner of the offending hand was my boss, who appeared in the middle of our deep sleep.

His ring-covered fingers tugged and tore at my long locks of hair until I was a gasping, confused mess kneeling on the floor at his feet. My injured body locked up in crippling cramps, and I couldn't stop the sobs of anguish. Every part of my body ached, including my pussy from the abuse Chace unleashed.

"What is happening?" I heard Chace ask somewhere to my left. "Don't touch her, Gary."

"I must speak to her now." Mr. Golding's dark silvery hair slid over his sharp cheekbones when he tipped his head downward to scrutinize me. "I understand your pain. I'm not angry, but it's time to talk, Charlize."

I wet my dry lips, staring at him in sultry bewilderment. "I'll tell you whatever you need to hear."

His eyes narrowed. "Yes, you will."

"Come on." Gary was there to replace Mr. Goldings. "Can you get up, or do you need help?"

My foggy mind couldn't focus. Luckily Chace thought of placing slippers on my injured feet, then we all shuffled towards Golding's office. I looked a mess and found myself leaning on Chace until he carried me completely.

"She isn't going anywhere," he told our boss. "Can't this wait a few more hours?"

"Do either of you realize the mess I had to clean up?" Andy Golding stormed to stand in front of us, crossing his arms over his tight black shirt. He looked as if he had just come back from the forest, and he probably had. The crew had most likely taken a trip over to Colton's property to erase any traces of criminal activity. "Sit down. Gary, grab some water. I need her to be clearheaded."

The office was lit with twilight streaming through the open second-story window. It was a lovely summer night, not yet filled with my nightmares. The guys looked tired but ready for action, while I felt like someone ran me over with a truck.

Chace helped me sit in one of the office chairs in front of Golding's large desk. I was beginning to hate this room, with its many hidden shadows and creaky floorboards.

"I'm not feeling well," I rasped, trying not to look too pathetic. "I want to say how thankful I am for your assistance. I didn't mean to—"

"Stop." Andy flicked his salt-and-pepper hair back, revealing his severe features. "The day has ended, and I still have no more useful information than I did yesterday. Do you know why?"

I shook my head, too nervous to speak. Of course, I knew why Colton's property and cabin tucked in the woods held no viable data or material. There were several small waterproof lockboxes under the thirty-foot dock at Dolly Pond. Colton chose a hiding spot that few people would consider looking at. But he told me. He gave up all his secrets, knowing I would never tell men like the ones around me.

"Tell me everything that happened from the moment you stepped into Terry's Speakeasy." Mr. Golding demanded, pointing at me as if hitting a play button. "Now. Every word better be the truth, or you're going down. You're gone. Do you get me?"

"What? No?" I croaked, gripping the leather chair. "There's no reason for me to lie to you. You've done nothing but take care of me since I first arrived. In fact, I would be homeless without your kindness."

He nodded in agreement, seemingly placated by my flattery. "Let's hear it then. I'm glad you weren't found dead after the crew lost you. Except... explain to me why the house burned down and later you decided to bury the bodies of two men twice your size."