Unbreak Me (10 page)

The doors opened at the other end of the long room as his father entered, dressed in a gray tailored suit, his face emotionless—cold as ice. His brown eyes found Connor, who kept his own eyes locked on his father, bold enough to show him that he wasn’t intimidated. But deep inside, he felt the urge to run from the room, quit while he was ahead, but who was he kidding. As long as his name was associated with the fall of the Lanscorp deal, he’d never get hired anywhere else.

“Gentlemen,” John Ellison greeted his staff, scanning the room. Each person sat around the board table nodded, a few murmurs were made and the lights were dimmed.

Richard Chase, the vice president and John’s right-hand man, took center stage as the large screen came down—the Ellison logo flashed across it.

“We have all read the transcripts, and most of us are up to speed on the loss of the Lanscorp merger,” he began. “To those new to this, there is a lot of speculation surrounding the legality of the deal. Hearsay and gossip are on the tips of the tongues of those who were opposed to the decision in breaking Lanscorp down and selling it off bit by bit—assetless sales with bigger turnover. Sixty-five million dollars later and we are doing damage control. If the deal had been successful, we would have seen a profit of more than one hundred forty-five million—big money to lose. Which leads us to Connor and Bruce who were heading up the deal.”

Connor shuffled uneasily in his chair as Bruce twitched his leg up and down. Both their fates hung in the balance. John Ellison cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyebrows as he watched his flesh and blood squirm in the hot seat.

“It was unfortunate,” Connor began, his voice shaky at first. “We didn’t anticipate a proxy contest. The dissident shareholders successfully obtained enough votes to gain control of the board of directors, overthrowing our bid to take charge.”

“How do you suppose these dissidents obtained such power?” John asked his son.

“Honestly, I don’t know—” Connor began only to be interrupted by Bruce.

“It’s come to our attention that crucial information was breached and the details of the contract were leaked.”

Connor glared at Bruce, giving him a peculiar look as if to say, ‘What the fuck did you just say?’

“You mean there was a tip-off?” Richard asked, folding his arms as he stared at Bruce.

The room was still as the silence floated through the air, the question on the tips of everyone’s tongues.

“What Bruce means to say,” Connor interrupted, the unease clear by the way his hand trembled. “We are unsure, but there may have been some files leaked.”

That did it. That caused the influx of raised voices, pens stabbing down on files, eyes blazing in all directions.

“Are you insinuating that someone in Ellison Enterprises had access to such classified information? Passing sensitive data to the Lanscorp shareholders?” Richard asked as the lights came on.

Bruce piped in, this time with a newfound confidence. “Yes.”

Connor lifted the file and held it under his arm, as his chair scratched on the floor. He stood and glared at the faces of all those he’d let down. He needed air, and he needed it fast. Not wasting another moment in the boardroom, Connor aimed for the door. He slammed it shut behind him as he ran for the elevator.

Pressing the call button a dozen times, he swore as staff looked on, raising eyebrows, talking in hushed tones—judging him.

“Fuck it!” he mumbled as the sweat began dripping down his forehead. He had to get out of there. The air was tight as he tried to swallow. Dizziness nearly consumed him as he burst through the fire exit and down the stairs.

Not realizing how many flights he cleared before running past reception and security, he practically fell out through the revolving door, gasping as his head spun.

Loosening his tie, he opened the top button of his shirt, squinting as he looked up at the sky, sucking in as much oxygen as possible. Panting, he knelt on the ground for a good three minutes, blocking the way of pedestrians moving to and fro from the building. But he didn’t give a shit. He was relieved.

“Are you okay, sir?” a familiar voice asked as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Turning his head, he saw Martin, his father’s chauffeur, looking down on him sympathetically. “Yes, I am fine, thank you.”

“Would you like me to call for medical assistance?”

A crowd had formed. Nosy fools more interested in the fact that the rich ‘almost jumper’ was now having a breakdown in public.

“Sir, I think it would be best if I were to drive you somewhere.”

“Agreed.”

Standing, he ignored the flashing lights of camera phones, the chitter chatter, the gossip brewing, and followed Martin to his father’s personal car.

Martin closed the door behind him and quickly drove away from the very place that brought out the simpering child inside.

* * * *

Mark poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Connor as he sat across from his friend. He wasn’t a man of many words, and certainly wasn’t on course to judge his best friend. It wasn’t his style. He was concerned for his friend. He was worried about how the growing attention was going to affect him. Another public meltdown was something Connor didn’t need.

“The press are having the time of their lives with his, huh?” Connor said as he stared into his glass. The scent of the golden liquid rippled up his nostrils, tantalizing his taste buds.

“They will find some other poor bastard. You’ll be yesterday’s news soon enough.”

“Fuck!” Connor shouted before he drank the liquor down in one gulp.

“I think between the loss of the contract, the pressure from your parents and this thing with the new girl—it’s all catching up with you. Maybe we need a guy’s weekend away. Take a break from the scene, unwind a little,” Mark suggested.

“I couldn’t think of a worse thing to do.”

Letting out a loud, exasperated sigh, Mark sat forward. “Then are you going to continue moping around? Having panic attacks? Losing sleep over something we both know you had nothing to do with?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.” Connor closed his eyes. “I have so much to do. Leaving town would be insane and not to mention totally admitting defeat to my father. He’d love nothing more than to see me crumble before his eyes.”

He ran his hands through his hair and didn’t move when the door to the room opened.

“Honey, I’m just going over to help Victoria with the decorations. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” Cassandra smiled at Mark, winking at him as she blew him a kiss.

Cassandra’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as Mark winked back at her. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Cassandra closed the door, her footsteps clicking as she walked down the hall and out of the front door.

“I take it Victoria is still insisting on being there when Cassie gives birth,” Connor said, changing the subject.

“Man, you haven’t a clue about the stuff I’ve had to look at. Birthing magazines, perineum oil—fucking nipple cream.”

Connor laughed. “Well, it’s all good practice. You guys are going to need to be in the know.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m scared shitless,” Mark said as he got up, fetching the decanter, filling up their glasses. “I worry that she’ll be in pain. She was so sick for nearly sixteen weeks. The thought of her suffering any more scares me.”

“All you can do is be there for her, make sure she’s okay, and I’m pretty sure that you both will come out the other side pretty damn happy.” Connor tried his best to ease his friend’s burden.

“Impending fatherhood is scary shit.”

“You’re just afraid of all the diapers she’ll make you change.” Connor laughed. “But at least you get to rub some of that nipple cream in.”

“Are you kidding me? They are a no-go zone right now. Mind you, they’ve grown and just look like they need devouring.” Mark beamed.

Connor smiled at his friend. It warmed his heart to see him so happy. He wanted that happily ever after too, then his mind drifted to Molly—sweet, beautiful, sexy Molly.

“What’s on your mind?” Mark asked, noticing the immediate change in Connor.

“Ah, man, she’s amazing. I mean, literally amazing. I know that if we are given half a chance, we could be something solid,” Connor said as his face relaxed. “She totally gets me.”

“Marissa will be pissed.”

“Fuck Marissa.”

“That’s what she’s hoping for,” Mark joked.

“We did it once. I was drunk and I can’t remember a thing.”

Mark poured them another drink. “Have you ever thought about what your mother is going to do when she finds out that you have no intention of ever popping the question to Marissa and have moved on to pastures new?”

“That, my friend, is a good question, but right now I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

“That’s good, because you need to prepare yourself for this weekend,” Mark warned.

“Why?”

“Because your mother has gone all out for the gala.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Connor complained. “Nothing like Mummy dearest playing cupid.”

Connor was right. There was nothing Eleanor wouldn’t do to make sure they remained royalty in their dynasty. Fuck those who got in the way.

Chapter Sixteen

Three times she filled out the same form, and three times she messed up. Regina looked at her, pursing her lips, contemplating what to say. She could clearly see how the young woman was off somewhere else. She had been singing, engaging more with the residents—finally coming out of her shell.

“If this is what love does to you, long may it last,” she said.

Molly looked up from her failing attempt at filling in her timesheet and blushed.

“What?”

“You can’t hide the look of love, honey, it’s pouring outta you like it’s the Fourth of July.”

Molly didn’t respond. Instead, she kept quiet, got back to putting in her hours, and smiling as she felt Regina’s eyes on her.

“Deny it all you want, baby girl, but let me tell you something—when love comes along, you hold on to it, don’t let it go,” Regina said as she held her hand over her chest. “And make love like there’s no tomorrow.” Winking, Regina walked away from the small office, laughing and breaking out into song.

Once Regina was out of sight, Molly dropped the pen, picked up her phone, checking for messages or missed calls from Connor.

Nothing.

Her heart threw a little tantrum, but she knew that he’d be in touch, and she really didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Then she smiled, remembering how she had most definitely been the one in control once or twice over the past weekend.

The bell on the counter pinged. Molly looked up.

“Hey, Eugene, what can I do for you?”

“We need more bleach,” the man said as he chewed on a toothpick, before sniffing and playing with his nose ring.

“Sure, let me just grab the keys and I’ll get you a few bottles from the store.”

Eugene stood, by the front desk as Molly got up. Molly could feel his eyes on her as she lifted the keys from the drawer. She hated how he rested his tongue on his lower lip, breathing heavily. Molly left the small office and began walking down the narrow corridor, passing the dorms. Unlocking the door to the basement, she hummed to herself as she stepped down the stairs, opening to the store door.

Molly didn’t hear the door click behind her.

Grabbing two bottles of bleach, Molly put them under her arm. As she turned around, she came face to face with Eugene.

“Jesus Christ, Eugene, you scared the crap out of me.” She nervously laughed.

Eugene didn’t say anything. He licked his lips as his hand began moving. Molly looked down and could clearly see his penis in his hand, jerking off in front of her.

“What the fuck!” she shouted.

Molly dropped the bleach and pushed him, trying to move him out of her way. But before she got the chance to run up the stairs, Eugene pulled her by her hair, swinging her back, slamming her into the wall.

Molly screamed. The reality of the situation came crashing around her. She tried to get up from the ground but her head spun as she fought to regain her balance.

A hand came down hard, slapping her across the face.

“Please… You don’t want to do this, Eugene,” she begged.

“Fuck you,” he stormed. “I’ll be the best you’ll ever have.”

Hitting back, Molly threw her weight behind a closed fist, punching his face, only for it to make him more violent. With one hand, he pulled at the waist of her jeans, using the weight of his other arm across her chest, restricting her breathing.

He was repulsive. His breath stank of stale nicotine. Everything about him had alarmed her from the first time he’d shown up to do his community service, and she’d expressed her concerns to Regina, only to be told the usual—everyone deserves a second chance.

She tried her best to pry his arm from her and cried. His fingers slid in under the waistline, his clammy flesh making her stomach heave.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he said as he brushed his cock against the crotch of her jeans. “I know you want it. I can smell your pussy juice from here.”

“Someone, help!” she screamed. “No… No—” She fought back in a failing attempt of breaking free.

Desperate, she looked to her left, eyeing a toolbox on a nearby shelf. Grunting, she reached out her arm, trying her best to touch the box. Eugene licked the side of her face as he dropped his pants to the floor.

“I want to come in your sweet ass,” he mumbled as he stroked himself a little more, loosening the pressure on her chest at the same time. Only for him to see what she was trying. “Bad girl.”

Smash!

His fist made contact with her mouth, splitting it open. The taste of her own blood was metallic on her tongue. Molly cried out as tears fell down her cheeks, knowing that she’d never forgive herself if she let another man take what he wanted from her. Closing her fist tight, she made contact with the side of Eugene’s head, the pain burning up her arm.

“You bitch!” he said, gritting his teeth as he pressed his face against hers. “Just for that, when I’m done I’m gonna rip your insides out.”