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“I was watching for you. I wanted to make sure you left safely. Why are you still here? Why are you wearing a towel? You can’t walk through the lobby in a towel. Well, I supposeyoucould, I doubt anyone would be surprised.” He sounded dazed, his lost rambling terrified me. I swallowed my nerves. I needed to appear calm.
“I’m not leaving.”
“You did. You left the room. I heard you go.” He sounded distant and so very, very wrong.
“I left to get your phone. I called Elliot. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.” The space between us seemed vast as we regarded one another from across the room.
“It doesn’t make sense that you’re still here,” he said finally and I couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto my lips.
“Lots of things don’t make sense tonight.” I approached him like I was approaching a wild animal. “Come back to bed.” I curled my index and middle finger around his smallest fingers. They were exactly the same size. I returned him to the bed and once more he followed me like an obedient puppy. He watched me closely now as I fussed, trying to make him comfortable.
What was I supposed to do now? I did the only thing that seemed sensible. I went back into the bathroom, grabbed a hand towel and soaked it in cold water. Alfie didn’t even wince when I placed it carefully on his back, even though it must have stung like hell.
I didn’t know what else to do, so once again I followed my instincts. I sat beside him cross-legged, as the cloth cooled his damaged skin. I had stroked and kissed that skin a thousand times, and the thought of it being hurt pained me in ways I couldn’t describe.
I stroked his hair, running my fingers through it and gently undoing the damp tangles. His eyes closed. I thought he was sleeping but they sprang open again at the sound of a knock at the door.
On our bedroom door.
What the hell? I got up and opened the door to find Elliot standing there. How did he get in? I glanced down to see him holding a small leather bag in one hand and a thin brown leather file in the other that looked like it contained documents of some kind. Elliot, other than looking slightly bleary eyed, was his usual immaculate self.
I closed the door behind me as I stepped into the hallway. “How did you get in?”
“Is that a serious question, Miss?” Elliot gave me a look, one that suggested that he could get through any door any time he damn well pleased, even though this time it had been a code operated elevator.
“No. Nevermind.” I took the bag and found inside wound dressing, pain medication, an antiseptic of some kind, as well as some other items. How on earth had he managed to get these things so quickly? The medication would surely need to be prescribed. How had he found a doctor? I decided I didn’t need to know.
“Is Mr Tell in need of a doctor?” I realised then that this was my call. I was in charge. Me, Lola O’Connell, in charge of the health and well-being of one of the richest people on the planet.
“I honestly don’t know. The burn hasn’t blistered yet and none of the skin is broken so…no? No, I don’t think so.” I tried to sound as decisive as possible.
“Alright. And what do you need, Miss?” He looked me up and down, taking in my state of undress. It was then that I realised I was still in just a towel. I crossed my arms over myself as if that would somehow restore my lost dignity. I don’t know why I bothered. “I understand that your van is still at your workplace. If you wish I can arrange for your transport home whilst you dress, unless you would prefer to arrange it yourself.”
My eyes widened at his words. What the hell was he talking about?
“What? Why would I be going home?” Even in the darkened corridor I could see the glimmer of surprise in his face. He shifted, looking suddenly uncomfortable. To see Elliot looking anything other than stoic was unnerving. My gaze fell to the file in his hand. “Elliot, what’s that?”
He tucked the file under his beefy arm, all but hiding it from me. “Nothing for you to worry about, Miss.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. I was so sick of people keeping shit from me.
“Elliot, I’ve had a really shitty night.” I let my unspoken threat hang in the air. Elliot studied me, weighing his options before wisely handing me the file. I opened it, scanning the documents enclosed, my teeth gritting as I realised what it was. I shot a fierce glare up at the older man.
“A Non-Disclosure Agreement? Jesus Christ, Elliot. How often does this happen? How many girls have signed these while you ‘arranged transport home?’” My whispered voice echoed down the darkened hallway. Elliot paused, his cool blue eyes studying me, the intense scrutiny in his gaze reminding me that I shouldn’t be fooled by his age. He was smart and I had no doubt he could be dangerous if the occasion called for it.
“Thishas never happened before. For the last ten years Mr Tell has maintained a careful control over all of his faculties and behaviour. Until you came along and, for good or for bad, blew his control to hell.” He sounded neither happy nor displeased at my arrival into Alfie’s life. I could only stare at him. I think this was the most I’d ever heard him speak in one go, but the man wasn’t done yet.
“As far as the NDAs go, it can come as no surprise to you that Mr Tell has done many things that have required NDAs to be signed by those who were present, all of whom were well compensated for their silence. I can’t count the number of women who have signed, taken their cheque, and left, but I can tell you how many have chosen to stay. That would be just you, Miss.” Elliot, I was coming to understand, was very good at appearing to tell me nothing when in fact he was telling me everything. He was telling me that this self-harming behaviour was new. He was telling me that Alfie had done some debauched, awful shit. He was telling me that Alfie only knew women who took his money and ran. He was also begging me not to do the same.
“The offer still stands, Miss. You could sign the NDA, leave, and you would be well compensated. You would have enough to see you comfortable for the rest of your life. If that’s what you want?”
“Is that a serious question, Elliot?” I asked, repeating his own words back to him. “I’m staying,” I handed him the file. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing but I’m staying.” I lifted my chin and saw something in his eyes akin to respect. Yeah, I was growing on him for sure. I might even get a smile out of him one of these days. “Is there anyone else I should call? His mother maybe?” I knew he had a sister living in London as well. Surely they would want to know that Alfie was hurt. Elliot, however, didn’t look like he agreed.
“No, Miss O’Connell. That would be unwise.” The tension around Alfie’s mother was going to have to go in the ‘Do Not Open’ box, along with the rest of Alfie’s shit.
“Give him two of those pills. They should help with the pain. If he needs a doctor in the morning he will tell me so himself.”
“But what if he isn’t himself by morning?” My question hung in the air, dense and loaded, threatening to crush us both with the weight of it. What if whatever was wrong with Alfie couldn’t be mended? Something in his mind was hurting him and I felt utterly powerless to do anything about it.