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HUDSON
The paramedics make me promise to take Laurel straight to the hospital to get checked out. My rage got the best of me. I want to kill him for what he did to her, but she didn’t want that. Laurel, even though a victim, sees the best in everyone. She keeps saying this isn’t him. If it wasn’t for her advising me to stop, he probably would be dead right now. He needs to count his blessings.
The hospital takes her straight back after the paramedics explain the situation. After some exams, we learn she has two broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone. My knuckles turn white just thinking about that fucker getting away with this. How can someone do this to a woman? Especially, someone he claims to love?
“I’m okay. I just want to go home,” she says, looking deeply into my eyes, pleading with me to save her.
I haul her out to the car and then inside the apartment once we arrive. Laurel climbs into bed and falls fast asleep in my arms. The events of today have me thinking about our lives together. I can’t see my life without her anymore, and to have someone almost take that away--my anger and fear got the best of me. Laurel is the first woman since I came back to the states to make me think that I’m not damaged goods, and worthy of being happy. She is the only reason I have a smile on my face most days now. What the hell would I do if I lost her?
This is why my brain always sees the bad in people? There are so many horrible people in this world, and civilians never think they will be the one to end up in a situation like Laurel, but it happens. If I hadn’t had been there, Laurel very well might not have made it out alive. This is why I trust my gut.
The biggest problem is that I could have killed him and not feel an ounce of remorse. One thing I don’t tolerate is men who lay hands on women. It might have a lot to do with the way I was raised, but abuse, no matter who it is, isn’t right. I’ll put a stop to it real quick.
The thought of killing someone for Laurel terrifies me. I would have taken a life for Laurel easily, without hesitation. I love her. Protecting her is my instinct and completely beyond my control. One day, I hope to get the images of her getting beat out of my head.
I take my shirt off and lie down next to her. I’d never seen her look so broken. My heart hurts thinking of how she must feel. She’s never looked so fragile before. My body snuggles into hers.
When my alarm goes off, I want to stay right here in this bed with her, but I have some important meetings today that I can’t afford to reschedule. She will be okay by herself.
When I walk into my office, Chris is waiting for me, leaning back in my chair. My glaring must have made a point because he gets up quickly and moves to the other side. “Why are you in my office? Should I start locking my door?” I ask, agitated.
“Just dropping off a file and heard someone come in. No one else would come in this early.” Chris being here didn’t surprise me. Does he ever go home? One thing I can say is he’s extremely dedicated to his job.
“Where’s Laurel? I’m amazed you guys didn’t ride in together. Your mom wins Mother of the Year,” Chris says, smiling.
Mother of the Year?
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Chris looks at me with a smile that just pisses me off more. Why does he keep smiling? “Your mom’s plan? Laurel’s employment being backed by your mom. Lorelai wanted her to get under your skin. Who knew it would be the best thing that ever happened to you,” Chris says, as he walks out of my office.
My heart is crushed right now. My mom put her up to this? Now, my mind is trying to decipher what has been real or part of the ruse. Deep down, I know all of this can’t be fake.
At that point, thinking too much about it will cause more harm than good. Running and talking to Laurel while I’m mad will only cause a fight. Right now, all she needs is rest.
Almost to the end of the day now, I start wrapping things up to leave soon. Laurel being out causes my day to be busier than normal. A deafening knock on my door surprises me, and Lyla walks in before I even have a chance to respond. “I thought you weren’t going to come around anymore? Did your husband not believe you?” I can’t help myself anymore. Being nice to that woman isn’t an option after last night.
“We have some matters to discuss. It shouldn’t take long. I would have made an appointment, but your help isn’t at her desk,” she says.
“The police called—” Laurel says, walking in on Lyla with her hand awfully close to my junk. Her eyes go wide while she stares at Lyla.
“We don’t allow prostitutes in the building. Wait on the corner like a respectable hooker. No need to beg,” Laurel says to her.
“You let your help speak to clients this way? I’ll be sure to tell all my friends about this,” Lyla says, straightening up her dress.
“Honey, let’s get something cleared up. To begin with, I’m not the help, but I do have the pleasure of getting off multiple times every night by my boyfriend over there. Second, I just sent the video to your husband, so I hope you give the best blow jobs around, or you’re going to be out on your ass in a matter of hours.”
Nothing but a smile crept across Laurel’s face.
While walking out of my office, Lyla immediately dials her husband in tears. We both know sucking up isn’t going to work.
My office door is open, and I can see all my employees watching. Right now, we are at work and, as Laurel’s boss, I have to fire her. As much as I enjoy watching Lyla squirm, she can’t get away with talking to a client like that, no matter the circumstances.
“I’m gonna need you to go home. That behavior was completely unacceptable. I’m sorry. You’re fired.”
I know that makes me a dick, but I have to think of my company’s reputation as well as how my employees think of me as a boss. We have discussed this. At the office, we must both always act professionally.
Her eyes go wide, and it looks like she is about to cry. As her boyfriend, I feel like a complete asshole. My intentions are not to make her cry. The next thing I know, she’s storming off, but I don’t stop her. Going back to my office, I text her.
Me: I had to. Everyone heard you. If not, I would have high-fived you. Thanks for having my back.
I get back to work, finishing my emails and signing contracts. After forty-five minutes, I still haven’t received a response. Instead, I try to call her, but it goes directly to voicemail. Damn, can she be that mad?
