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“Thanks, Mich.”
Putting the phone on the nightstand, I roll over. The medicine soon kicks in and I feel some relief. I still feel tired, and before I know it, I drift off to sleep.
It’s closer to noon when my eyes open again. They feel better and the headache is gone. I use the bathroom and find the strength to brush my teeth. My face is less puffy but there is still evidence of tears. I feel a sinking emptiness in my spirit. I don’t even think about what I would be doing at work right now. I have resigned myself to the fact that my job at More Secure is a thing of the past. I have no choice but to leave because there is no way I can be around Archer. My resolve to keep my distance might crumble, and I would just embarrass myself.
I shower and dress carefully for the early winter weather. Stepping outside of my apartment, I do a double-take.
“Good afternoon, Sidney.”
“H-Hi, Brad. Umm, what are you doing here?”
“Mr. Colleymore’s orders. So, where are we headed?”
I walk down to the parking lot in a daze. I’d forgotten everything about my security detail. I head to a deli and have a sandwich and coffee, then stop at a newsstand and grab a few papers. After that, I head back to my apartment.
“Thanks, Brad.”
“No problem. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I nod and go inside. I change into something more comfortable and pick up the first paper. Before long, I’m knees deep in ads, looking for a job.
Chapter sixteen
Archer
“Okay.Thanks,Brad.”
I stare at the phone for a few seconds after the call ends. I haven’t seen Sidney since she left the office last Monday. When her driver for Tuesday reported that she had not come downstairs, a quick check of her cameras showed that she was asleep. We don’t make it a habit of checking on home surveillance unless specifically requested by the client. But in this case, I needed to know that she was okay.
She did not come in for the rest of the week. And tempting as it was to check her cameras, I did not. I had guards on rotation in eight-hour shifts when it became obvious she was not coming to work. It was a hard week and an even harder weekend. And now here I am, one week after that conversation that sealed our fate.
I have thought of so many scenarios that can unfold if I reach out to her. But they all end in the same way – rejection. Her silence haunts me. I feel my grip on pride slipping each day. I know that one day, I’ll throw caution to the wind and turn up on her doorstep. And it’s looking more and more like today is that day. I’m about to call the officer on duty to tell him I’ll take over when the door to the outer office slams. Before I can pull up the camera feed heavy footsteps come down the corridor. I pull my gun and position myself.
There is a loud knock on my door. “Oh, father! Your darling son is home!”
Grant? What the hell is he doing here? I put the gun away and open the door only to find a shell of a human being.
Grant is gaunt. His skin appears paper thin and I can see the veins stand out in relief. He is poorly dressed for this time of year and there is a blue tinge to his lips. His eyes are sunken and as he smiles leerily, his teeth are stained. His clothes are filthy and he stinks.
“How did you get in here?” I ask him.
“How do you think? I told them I needed some security services and they directed me straight to your office.” He laughs. “For a security company, you sure are an easy target. I could’ve come in with guns blazing for all they care. Does your staff like you or do they want you gone? I mean, look how easy it was to get—”
“When did you get back?” I cut off his rambling, filing what he has said in the back of my mind. His rambles are accurate, though. I would’ve been a sitting duck just now. That outer office person is important. But I’ll have to deal with that another time.
“Last week.”
I’m amazed that he’s allowed to travel in this condition, but the few days difference between his arrival in America and now make it make sense why he would be high. He continues into the office and throws himself on the couch.
He looks around and remarks. “Nice digs. Maybe I can crash here sometimes.”
I instantly have images of my office being overrun with junkies and thugs. I speak as gently as I can.
“Or maybe you can crash at a treatment facility. Grant, you have to get help. Let me help you.”
“Hell, no! That’s the same shit mom tried, so I left.”
“You left? Freely?”
