Page 12 of Of Mercury and Mist

“Never seen her, sorry,” Mike said, quickly perusing the photograph.

“That’s rough,” Andy muttered as he looked the image over, and I smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

Alexander made a rumbling sound, his eyes reflecting red, probably from the neon bar sign hanging across the room. “Let Vincent know if you hear or see anything,” he ordered us.

We nodded, and Karissa mumbled, “okay,” before stepping behind me and out of the way.

Vincent tilted his head toward the stairs, indicating Alexander should follow, and the four of us quickly went outside.

“Karissa, ride with me,” I called over my shoulder, digging my keys from my pocket.

Andy and Mike climbed into a Lexxus and followed us down the driveway. “If you find this Sara girl, you get a million,” I grinned at my friend as we sped down the road.

“Ehh, I don’t want to get involved in that. I’m okay with Vincent, but some of the stuff he gets into is too serious for me.”

Couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, I get that. I grew up around this gangster crap so it's not that bad to me. I mean, I know it's bad, but I guess I’m used to it?”

Bridgeport, Connecticut was a good training ground for desensitizing a person and encouraging them to let things slide off. Unfortunately, bullets didn’t. I knew way too many people taken out by a stray, or that were now six feet under from an overdose. Funny that I'd moved away from that stuff just to find a more genteel version, here.

Karissa gave me a sympathetic look. “Sad thing to be used to but I can see how that would be with where you used to live.” She turned and stared out the window. “All I want is to live in peace.”

Her words felt weighted, and I didn’t want her to be sad. I’d always been a bit protective over her—which I was now an epic failure at, given what’d just happened at work.

“Well, we’ll have fun at my place. I think I still have some of that wine you like. We’ll just hang out, no one will bother us.”

We pulled into the parking area for my building and took the stairs up. The complex still had most of the original art deco features, with stylish light fixtures and a black and white checkered floor, low lighting. It was quiet, which I enjoyed. I felt safe, here.

The guys hadn’t come up yet and I left Karissa alone in the living room to give myself a minute. I was shocked I’d held on as long as I did after the day I’d had.

Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I didn’t look any different, but everything had changed. Della still wasn’t answering the phone, and I slapped my brand new device down on the counter.

My boss is a freaking murdering monster, and I screwed over my only other friend.

Of course, Micha could be one of those weirdos who had strange fetishes. I’d seen the videos online, of the goth people and others that gave their all to an alternative lifestyle, I knew it was a thing. They collected bones and other macabre items.

I sort of dressed the part, but I didn’t hang out in graveyards or have an overtly Gothic living space, or even crazy clothes. Plus, while Micha clearly favored the color black like I did, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a Gothic guy. He had to just be a weirdo. Some type of CEO super villain or something.

Billionaires are just like everyone else at their core, right? Probably easier to get away with being a freak if you have money. Nobody would bother you about it.

I was telling myself these things, but I didn’t really believe them.

This was not the adrenaline rush I was going for.

I tried to rip my boss’s dick from his body.

My forehead banged against the glass of my bathroom mirror as I gripped the edge of the sink. I had the death wish of all death wishes. Unable to stop it, a giggle welled up and I knocked my head against the glass a few more times before shaking my head. Could I really be all that scared of him if I’d kinda wanted to suck him off rather than tear him off?

The way he’d looked at me the night of the Onychinus release party, when he’d held his hand out to help me step from the limousine. I’d smacked him away, instantly uncomfortable. He had looked at me like I was everything to him. I’d heard what a player he was—everyone knew. The conversations had been hushed guesses, gossip, but where there’s smoke, there’s most certainly fire.

I was probably just another piece of ass for him to abuse. If Josiah wasn’t going to follow the rules, why would Micha bother?

The contracts I’d signed could use another going over. There had to be rules about coercion since I didn’t remember anything about trapping employee's underneath desks being okay. If I’d still had the software on my phone, I’d be going through it with a fine-tooth comb this very minute.

A wisp of a memory wandered into my mind, of Micha getting unreasonably angry I didn’t have my apple coffee one morning. He’d glared at my hand and demanded to know where it was. I’d chalked it up to him just being his usual, grumpy self, but I remembered the sudden and mysterious replacement of all the employees at the coffee counter. My favorite barista had been gone, along with everyone else the next morning, and I’d been bummed out. But they had my favorite flavor again when the place was restaffed.

Didn’t Della figure out Josiah had been having coffee delivered to her every morning? She’d told me about the unexpected gifts that’d started appearing on her desk before the two of them were together.

I shook my head and turned around, leaning against the sink. There was no way this was anything like that and I was an idiot begin to consider it. Wishful thinking was what it was. False hope that anything other than what was happening was what was going on. I didn’t evenlikeMicha, and he sure as hell didn’t care for me.

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