Page 36 of Final Installment
“Maybe Jackson needs to go to rehab then.”
“He has gone,” Drake admitted.“And I’ll get him to go again.”
“But?”
“He needs this job.I can’t let you jeopardize his family’s wellbeing over a few off-color remarks.”
My eyebrows raised.“Off-color remarks?”
“He didn’t mean any of it!”
“And what happens the next time he acts like a fool?Or if he does something worse than tell nasty stories or make racist comments?We just keep covering for him and brushing it under the rug?”
“He didn’t hurt anyone!”
“Physically,” I argued.“Emotionally, he hurt them.He offended them.He embarrassed them.And what if he does this again and it comes out that we’ve all been giving him passes?”I didn’t even want to bring it up, but I couldn’t let it go.“I heard about the Tokyo trip.”
Drake’s countenance changed suddenly.“Nothing happened.It was office gossip.”
“I don’t believe you.”The details I had heard about Jackson’s drunken antics and the late-night run-in with hotel security and two prostitutes were too specific to be exaggerated gossip.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”Drake moved uncomfortably close.“Imagine if I believed all the filthy things I heard about you and a married man you fucked when you were a teenager?”
A flush of shame burned across my face.
“What would people at work say if they knew what a dirty little homewrecker you are?”
I couldn’t breathe.My lungs were suddenly too small, and there wasn’t enough air in the room.
“Maybe they’d start to wonder why Brett took you away from your mother.Maybe they might question what kind of daddy-daughter relationship you two actually share.”
My ears were ringing.I barely heard Drake’s final threat before he left me alone in the dining room.
I don’t know how long I stood there.Frozen.Ashamed.Unable to breathe.My tormented mind filled with repressed memories.
“Miss?”One of the restaurant busboys hovered nearby.“Do you need help?”
I smiled weakly and shook myself from the PTSD induced stupor, “I’m fine.Thank you for asking.”
I found my handbag and fled the restaurant.Out in the balmy early summer night, I wandered aimlessly down the crowded sidewalks.Memories I didn’t want to relive wouldn’t leave me alone.Feelings of shame and regret soured my stomach.Panic gripped my chest, squeezing like a vise.
Who else knew?Did everyone at work know?Were they all whispering about me behind my back?Making up salacious stories to explain my role at the company?Casting ugly aspersions at Brett who had only ever been a father to me?Who had fought to save me?To protect me?
“Elona Dushku?”
Startled by the sound of my name, I stopped and turned to my right.A man emerged from a doorway of a noodle shop, and I was taken aback by the all too familiar sight of him.What the hell was Luka doing here in Shanghai?
Except, as the man drew closer, I realized it wasn’t Luka.It was an eerily similar doppelganger.
“Kristo.”Not-Luka introduced himself with a pleasant smile.“I’m Luka’s cousin.”
“Elona.”I shook his hand, marveling at the similarities between the two men.The eyes.The beard.The nose.The chin.“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were twins.”
“We get that a lot.”He gently reached out to take my arm and pull me out of the way as a boisterous group advanced on us.“What are you doing in Shanghai?”
“I’m on a work trip.You?”I had no idea what he did for a living.Probably something illegal.
“A work trip.”Kristo offered a lopsided smile.“That I’m failing at miserably.”
