Nearly an hour later, I’ve weaved my way home through blocks of shit and pouring rain. Reaching my landing, I slip on the stairs, falling hard, catching my shin on the edge of stone. It hurts like the devil and I cry, huddling under the eve of the doorway.
“Casey?” Looking up into the dark, I see my neighbor, Devin, standing there with some gamer shirt covering his thin chest, jeans riding low enough to make him less a hipster and more a punk. He flicks his cigarette to the ground letting it burn out in a puddle.
I try to croak out a greeting, but it’s useless. “Come on. Get inside.” Reaching down, he grabs my arm, seemingly irritated with my helplessness, and roughly pulls me up, dragging me inside the building. The rain must have washed off his unkempt smell. A part of me wants to fight his help based on our less than neighborly history, but I don’t. He helps me get up the two flights of stairs to our floor, his door still open and TV blasting. I drag my own key out, hands shaking as I insert it into the doorknob.
“Did you do it?” he asks me. I look back at him, an accusing glance slicing through me.
“Do w-what?” I whisper, holding myself up against the doorframe.
“Did you fuck your boss?” he snarls at me and shame floods me once more.
“Go fuck yourself, Devin, and your video gaming whores.” I roll inside my apartment, slamming the door shut before falling to the floor in a pathetic heap of tears...
18
James
I run from my office, scrambling to get to the studio. I can’t imagine what Casey must be thinking or the shock she must be in. I’m in complete shock myself as I get to the elevator. The panel indicates its heading down already, likely to Casey’s floor. “Fuck!” Slamming my hand against the wall stings and does nothing to ease the frustration.
“James? What’s going on?” Michelle is standing in the center of the hallway, blocking me. I don’t have time to deal with her.
“Not now, Michelle.” Clutching her by the shoulders, I move her out of the way before I barrel past, dashing towards the emergency stairs and throwing the door wide, the back of it slamming hard against the concrete and metal. The few employees left in the building at this late hour look at me oddly. I jump several steps
at once to get down them quickly, almost tripping. Slamming through the next door, I race to get there, my leg muscles bursting.
I can see the elevator within my reach, Casey slipping inside. I’m yelling like a psychotic mental patient trying to get to her. “Casey! Shit! Casey, stop!” I push harder, trying to get to her, and the devastation on her face breaks me. Eyes wide, she is shaking and pale, tears streaming down her cheeks as the doors close. I’m cut off from her. She may as well have cut off my arm. I feel lost, a helpless pain stabbing my chest.
“Dude, what the hell was that about?” Tucker, out of breath, stands behind me.
“Where did that fucking soundbite come from?” Growling, I knock him up against the wall, his head slamming back. Red-faced, he tries to claw my arms off him. He’s worked here for eight years, but I’ll fire him in a heartbeat if it was him. The woman I care about has run off, and the world has heard our… Fuck. I don’t even know what to call it. Interlude? Passionate encounter? No fucking words can describe the feelings I had at the moment and trying to makes it sound trite.
“Dude, I don’t fucking know.” Tucker is gasping for breath. “I played the requested song and it was already in there, swapped out from the tracks.” Tucker pushes me back adjusting his shirt, gesticulating angrily. “Was it you?”
“What?” Tucker looks at me like I had something to do with this. Oh, fuck no. I find it incredulous he’s accusing me of something so disgusting.
“Come on, man. I know you get around. Did you do it? It’s a pretty shitty move.” Tucker thinks he can talk to me like that? I sign his fucking paycheck. I could care less what the shareholders and board members think of me even though this has the potential to damage the company on a wide scale.
“If you want to keep your job, you’ll find out who fucking switched the tracks and you won’t talk to anyone about this. Are we fucking clear?” Each word is enunciated and Tucker nods.
“Crystal.”
He walks off, just as pissed as I am, and I take out my phone, calling the desk downstairs.
“Hey, boss,” Brian, one of my night guards, answers.
“Hey, Brian. Listen, did you see Casey leave the building?”
“Yeah. She bolted out of here like the devil was chasing her.” No shit, the devil… That stalker who sends her shit each week probably had something to do with this and I need to find that piece of garbage. How the hell did this person infiltrate my building and company? The questions buzz in my mind with zero answers.
The headache, along with worry, begins. How could I not have anticipated something like this? Why did I not hire that security firm when I had the chance? All of this is my fault.
“Which way did she go?”
“She headed right. Definitely right.”
“Thanks. If you see her again, detain her and call me right away.”
“You got it, boss.”