Page 19 of Room Seventeen

“Where is she?” I demand, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

“Gone,” Xander says, his voice hollow.

“What do you mean, she’s gone? Where did she go?”

Darian stares and me, but says nothing.

“We don’t know, G. Security logs show she came up yesterday around four pm. She cleaned out her desk and left us this note.” Xander motions to a piece of paper on Darian’s desk.

I snatch it and read.

Dear Darian, Xander, and Garrett,

I want to thank you for being the best bosses a girl could ask for. I’ve truly loved working for you over the last six months, and wish you all the best with your business ventures. There is no easy way to put this, but I’m writing to give my notice, effective immediately.

Unfortunately, something came up this last week, and I’m not in a position to give the standard two-weeks I’d prefer to give. But I have taken the liberty of posting my position on the job boards, and have already vetted a couple of worthy applicants I think you will appreciate. Their resumes are attached, and to ensure my absence causes as little disruption to you as possible, I’ve scheduled three interviews for you later this week.

Again, I apologize for my unprofessional departure. I wish I could handle this differently, but I cannot.

Respectfully, Carlisle

I read, and reread, and then read again the words printed in my hand, but no matter how many times my eyes trace over the black ink, my mind doesn’t comprehend their meaning.

“What the fuck?” I glance at my partners and then back at the note. “What the actual fuck!”

“Calm down, G,” Xander says, but his words hold no heat.

“So, neither of you talked to her since we left Club Sin?”

“Of course not,” Darian finally speaks. “We agreed to wait until today.”

“Then…” I hold the paper up in the air, and shake it as if I can change the words. It does me no good, and I suddenly feel the energy drain out of my body, making me limp and lifeless, like Xander and Darian.

I thought I’d been brokenhearted before, but I was wrong. Leaving Car Sunday morning sucked, and it hurt, but it did not break me at that point. This hurts worse than the bullet I took in Iraq. My heart feels shredded as the emptiness I feel, that my partners feel, weighs down on me.

I crumple up the paper and throw it at the wall before sinking into a chair. Then I blow out my breath and drop my chin to my chest, mumbling more to myself than them, “What the fuck?”

12

Carlisle

My heart plops into my belly as the elevator ascends to the ninth floor. I really don’t think I’ll survive seeing my three men again, but I need my last paycheck, and Darian is holding it hostage.

They’ve called and texted several times since that Monday morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Just hearing Garrett’s voice on the recording brought me to tears and forced me back into bed for most of the day. Xander’s text message, which simply said, “I don’t understand,” sent me to the freezer for a pint of ice cream. But it’s been Darian’s radio silence that hurt the most.

Then yesterday, he called and texted, both messages identical. “If you want your last paycheck, you will be here tomorrow at five o’clock.” His message brokered no argument, and I knew better than to try. I responded simply with “Yes, Sir” hitting send before I could think better of it.

The doors part, and Garrett's standing there, his face a mask of indifference and maybe a touch of hurt. I press my lips together, a sudden urge to cry filling my chest, hot tears pressing at the back of my eyes.

His gaze takes me in, traveling over my body with a scrutinizing assessment that leaves me a bit cold. “They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”

I nod, my gaze hitting the floor because I can’t take the coldness in his normally bright blue eyes, and walk past him at a condemned man’s gait. Obviously, he’s mad, maybe even disappointed, and his unspoken castigation splinters my already fragile heart. Taking a deep breath, I push open the conference room door, the overhead lights low, which gives me a small sense of relief. I might not be able to keep the tears at bay, and with this lighting, maybe they will go unnoticed.

Xander looks up from the table, his hazel eyes sharper that Garrett’s, a blaze of anger making them sparkle in the darkness. He presses his lips into a tight line and looks pointedly at the chair across from him, telling me exactly where to sit.

I sit down, noting the rectangular pieces of paper in front of me. Garrett walks in the room and takes the seat next to Xander, both men staring at me with a coldness I’ve never felt from them. Then I notice Darian is sitting at the head of the table, cloaked in the darkness. He’s wearing all black and sitting in a black leather chair, his body rigid and still as death.

He speaks without moving a muscle. “Why did you quit?”

---