Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
What if he really did leave for lunch and came back to find me… missing?
But that’s not what happened. It took almost two hours before the train finally stopped to pick me up and no one came down looking for me.
He left. More importantly, he left me behind.
And at any point, he could’ve contacted me through our encrypted CORE phones, and he didn’t.
I’m feeling very shaky and out of sorts, not to mention holding my breath, when I key in the code to our door and open it.
That breath comes out because he’s here. Standing in front of the massive window, hands in pockets, with his back to me.
“Brose? What the fuck? Why did you—” But I stop there because he’s turning and even though he’s backlit and I can’t really see his face, I can tell. He’s furious.
There’s a moment of silence between us and in my mind, it feels like it goes on, and on, and on forever.
He takes a step forward, and for some reason, I back up.
“Close the door, Olive.” This is not a request. It’s a command.
I suddenly feel like I’m gonna throw up. Adrenaline spikes, instantly rushing to every part of my body, and I have an almost overpowering urge to run.
But there’s nowhere to go, and I know this, so I reach behind me without taking my eyes off him and tap the door closed.
Again, there is a very ominous moment of silence. His hands are still in his pockets when he takes a few steps towards me and I force myself not to take the same number of steps back. Not because I’m brave—he scares the fuck out of me when he’s like this. Just because I already know that it’ll piss him off even more.
Instead, I smile. “I made progress.”
He sneers. “I bet you did. Did you suck his dick too?”
I want to be offended, but I’m not. But only because I’m used to his jealousy and telling him what he wants to hear—with slight embellishments that simultaneously calm him down—is the only way forward.
“Was it big and hard, Olive? Was it bigger than mine?”
“I would never do that, Brose. Not without your permission. And anyway, if I was going to do that, I would want you to be watching. And how could you be watching if I was outside at the bottom of the stairs where there just happens to be a blind spot in our surveillance?”
He’s very calm when he answers. “Trust me, Olive. That blind spot no longer exists.”
I smile again, nodding. “Good. I told you we’d need a camera there.” Which isn’t even a lie. We ran out of equipment that last day when the cameras were going up and he made the decision to omit the bottom of the steps from the grid so we could have one along the coke ovens.
He takes another step forward. “Do you want to suck his dick?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m a Silent Intelligence Operative and you’re my Personal Operations Director. You think for me, I act for you.”
He takes one more step forward. “You say that, but do you believe it? Do you really believe that your wants and needs are secondary to mine? If they are allowed to exist at all. And really, under Directive 1 of the SIO Code of Conduct, they’re not, Olive. You have no free will. I think for you, you act for me. You agreed to this.”
“I know that, Brose. That’s what I just said. Why are you mad? I didn’t do anything wrong. I set up a meeting—”
He picks up a vase and throws it across the room, making it shatter against the wall. I flinch back, putting my hands up to cover my face when the glass shards go flying, but still, I feel the sting when some of them hit me.
Then he’s here. Right in front of me. His hand on my throat, pushing me backwards. I hit the door, looking up at him, afraid of what he might do next, but also—and I can’t even admit this to myself without feeling shame—turned on. I close my eyes, moaning. Wanting him to choke me. Wanting him to fuck me. Wanting him to turn me over across his knee and slap me on the ass until it’s so sore, I can’t sit.
But the pressure on my neck from his hand is almost nonexistent, that’s how light his touch is. He won’t do it. He won’t do any of that. Not in anger.
What he does is lean into my face. “Look at me.”
I open my eyes and find his staring back at me, maybe an inch away.
“Tell me, word for word, what happened outside in the blind spot, Olive. And if you want me to choke you, and fuck you, and spank you, then don’t you dare leave out a single fucking thing.”