The drives feel like lead in the pocket of my coat and my palms sweat, nerves eating away at my stomach as I make my way down the hall towards my desk. This is the easy part. The hardest part will come next.
I place all my things where I usually do and open my laptop, glancing around to see if anyone might catch what I’m about to do, but with it being the day of the gala, no one is paying attention to me.
My hands shake as I withdraw one of the drives, curling my fingers around it as I wait for the computer to load.
Kingston waits outside for my signal and knowing he’s there, it eases the nerves slightly. I’m not completely on my own.
Blowing out a breath I slot the drive into the port. Immediately a black screen pops up, the text on it neon green as a bunch of numbers and letters start to fill the page.
Shit.
I scramble to open my email box to cover the evidence and thankfully that pops open within seconds.
They said five minutes, so I glance at the clock. Four minutes to go.
Three.
I work through my emails, barely reading them, replying automatically and robotically as the minutes tick down.
One minute remaining.
I look up, Tobias is in, walking towards his office. He smiles and waves at me which only adds to the nerves. My pulse jumps wildly, so fast and hard I’m sure people can see it fluttering away in my neck.
My palms are slick with sweat and when my phone vibrates against the desk at exactly the five-minute mark, I just about jump out of my skin.
Kington: Drive 1 is done, get it out and hide it.
I yank the stick from the port and shove it into my bag and then look around, waiting for the shoe to drop.
Kingston was right, this was a simple plan, easy actually and that makes me nervous. I’m waiting to get caught, for someone to see and immediately know what I’m doing but when I look around, not a single person is looking in my direction.
I had to move on, I had to get the second drive in.
I text Kingston back, telling him to come in and go directly to my desk. We had already gone over this. It would work.
I try to act as normal as I can as I wait for him to show up, my fingers stiff as I type on my keyboard, and I sense him before I see him. My eyes immediately go up, staring down the hall in front of me and then there he is, striding towards me with swagger and purpose, hands buried in the pockets of his suit trousers, white shirt tucked in, but the two top buttons undone showing off the tips of the tattoos adorning his chest. His eyes sparkle with utter mischief and despite the nerves, despite the terror of getting caught, heat floods my veins.
He stops in front of my desk and cocks a brow, “I need to see Tobias.” He says.
For a minute I’m silent, staring. Not an act, as I try to get myself back under control. I’m sure this isn’t normal. That just the view of a man could leave me this damn stupid.
“Right! Uh,” I stutter, again, not an act, as I purposely pull up the calendar knowing it’ll be blank, “You’re not scheduled.”
“Tell him it’s an emergency.”
I’ve worked for Tobias for a long enough time that I knew he would never want me to turn away a client paying as well as Kingston is, which is why I’m sure this’ll work. On the phone, maybe, but in person, never.
“Of course,” I swallow, “I’ll just take you down to the room.”
He walks at my side, close, close enough that his fingers brush against me and the scent of his aftershave invades my nose. I get him into the room, and he gives me one long look before whispering, “Be careful.”
I rush to Tobias’ office, taking deep breaths along the way to quell the rising tide of panic, “Tobias, Harrison is here to see you!” My words rush from me as the door to his office swings open. His head snaps up, “What!?”
“Harrison, he says it’s an emergency.”
“We don’t have a meeting scheduled.” Tobias snaps.
“I know, but I know you don’t like me turning people away.”
“I’m too busy for this, Eleanor, get rid of him.”
Shit, “I tried,” I lie, “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
He looks at me then, properly looks at me and I had to be grateful that he’s mistaking the panic and nerves in my face as something else as he softens, “I’ll deal with him.”
My eyes track him as he walks down the hall and disappears around the corner. King will keep him occupied. I gently close the door, beelining for his laptop left open and unlocked on the desk and pull the drive from my pocket.
I try not to look at anything as I insert the drive into the port, but a single folder on the desktop catches my eye. It’s simply titled ‘X’.
The same black box pops open and the letters and numbers start to fill the page. Five minutes.
My eyes dart between the door, the box and that damn folder.
It’s likely nothing.
Nothing, I tell myself and yet my finger goes to the mouse pad and moves the cursor until it’s hovering over that folder.
Two minutes left.
I click it.
Bile instantly rises in my throat, acid coating my tongue as image after image loads in the folder. Explicit images, violent, graphic. Women, bound, gagged, tortured, bleeding on mattresses and on the floor.
Up until now I hadn’t seen anything linking Tobias to what Kingston had told me. I scan the images, tears pricking my eyes as I look at their faces, their brutalized bodies.
I more than hated him. I keep scanning. I know what I’m looking for, who I am looking for but with each pass of my eyes, the nausea increases, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I vomit.
I suppress a sob, forcing myself to keep going, keep looking for Tate. It just gets worse. All these poor women. Used, kidnapped, tortured and for what? Sport for these sick motherfuckers? Games?
One minute.
I don’t see Tate in any of the pictures, but this will haunt me. My stomach rolls as I close down the folder, but even with the images gone, I see them in my head with vivid clarity.
I watch the seconds ticking down on the clock, my arm banded around my stomach as if I can stop the rising sickness.
My eyes burn, my throat closing and then the door swings open and Tobias steps in.
I move quickly, grabbing the drive and yanking it from the port, stuffing it straight into my pocket. I have no idea if the five minutes were up, it doesn’t matter now anyway.
Tobias stands frozen, “What are you doing, Eleanor?”
A cold sweat dampens my skin and my heart pounds too quickly, I feel dizzy, sick, “There was a phone call. I didn’t have time to get back to my desk to answer it.”
“You look a little pale,” he comments, stepping further into the room. He doesn’t shut the door which I take as a good sign, “Are you well?”
My stomach churns, “I skipped breakfast,” I wave a shaky hand, “I’ll be fine.”
His eyes bounce between my face and the open laptop.
“Is everything settled with K – Harrison?” I choke.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
This was going from bad to worse.
I was going to be sick. I could feel it.
Behind him I see a familiar face. Ace stands there, hand concealed under his jacket.
Oh fuck.
They were prepared to rage war right now thinking I’ve been caught. I needed to get out now, let them know everything is fine.
“It will be soon, I just needed to get the tablet.” Tobias walks towards me and plucks up the tablet on the edge of the desk. I should’ve seen it, should’ve clocked that he would be back for that. He uses it for every meeting.
“Right,” I stand, legs shaking, but I steel myself to stop my knees giving out, “Well, I’ll get back to my desk.”
“You do that, Eleanor.” He doesn’t look at me, only at the open laptop as if all the evidence is still on the screen.
I don’t look back as I rush towards Ace, grab him by the elbow and shove him into the ladies bathroom, locking the door behind us.
It’s then that my stomach gives out, and I vomit straight into the sink.