Denied (One Night 2)

The blow to my face sends me all disorientated. ‘Shit!’ I find nothing to grab to steady myself, and instead give up on the inevitable, letting my body crash to the floor.

Everything blurs around me – vision, sound – and pain flames the flesh of my face. I try to shake some clear thoughts back into my mind, or at least gain some straight vision, but it takes the feel of strong hands on my shoulders to bring me back into the room.

It’s silent.

Deadly silent.

I look up and see traumatised blue eyes scanning my face, eventually settling on my burning cheek. Cassie is by the drinks cabinet, tremors of shock riding through her body and a look of apprehension on her flustered face. She takes shaky hands to the bottle of vodka and skips pouring a glass, instead taking the neck of the bottle to her lips. I’m not certain who struck me, but after a few seconds of watching Cassie through blurred vision, I quickly conclude it’s her, and she’s now bracing herself for . . . something.

‘Tony?’ Miller’s voice is rampant with rage.

‘I’m here, son.’ Tony moves in, looking down at me with sorry eyes. I feel stupid, a burden and weak.

‘Get that bitch the f**k out of my office.’ Miller sweeps me up from the floor and cradles me in his arms before turning to face Cassie. She’s nearly polished off the whole bottle.

‘I can stand,’ I protest, my throat scratchy from my scream of alarm.

‘Shhhh,’ he soothes quietly, pressing soft lips to my temple, all the while keeping burning rings of fury on Cassie.

She’s wary and shifting drunkenly, but she still carries that air of superiority. ‘She shouldn’t have got in the way.’ She dismisses the whole incident easily, gulping down the rest of the vodka.

Tony moves in and takes Cassie’s arm. ‘Let’s go,’ he orders, removing the bottle from her hand and slamming it down.

‘No!’

‘Get her out!’ Miller yells. ‘Get her the f**k out before I kill her!’

‘You wouldn’t hurt me!’ she laughs. ‘You couldn’t!’

Tony starts pulling her to the door, but she doggedly fights him off. She’s relentless. ‘For crying out loud, Cassie! Sober up and sort this shit out later.’

‘I’m fine!’ She wriggles from Tony’s hold and staggers over to the desk, plonking herself down in Miller’s chair. I may have only just got my clear sight back, but I definitely don’t mistake her flip a scowl in my direction. Even now? She’s just clobbered me one, attacked Miller, and she’s still all hostile. Can she not detect the aggression radiating from every refined pore of my part-time gentleman? Is she stupid? ‘Give me a f**king break,’ she grumbles, reaching up to the intricate cross that’s always decorating her neck. She fumbles with it, cursing under her breath.

‘Cassie,’ Miller warns. I can feel his chest heaving double in pace under me. ‘Don’t.’

‘Fuck off!’

Tony’s very quickly by her side, leaning down to get level with her, his palms flat on Miller’s desk. ‘I won’t allow it, Cassandra.’

She turns a defiant chin up to Tony and moves in close, getting nose to nose with him as she continues to play with her silver cross. ‘Fuck . . . off.’

‘Cassie!’

‘He wants out! Have you ever heard something so funny? They’ll never allow it.’

I want to scream that all those women don’t have a choice, that he’s mine now, but Miller squeezes me to him. It’s a reassuring squeeze.

She laughs. ‘It’s f**king hilarious.’ The metal of her necklace splits into two pieces and I watch in horror as white powder scatters Miller’s perfect white desk. I gasp, Tony curses, and Miller tenses from head to toe.

Cocaine?

If I hadn’t seen the fine particles drop from Cassie’s beautiful piece of jewellery, I probably would never know it was there; the residue is camouflaged perfectly by the expanse of white gloss beneath it. I’m speechless as I watch her snatch a credit card from her bra, along with a note, before she starts shifting the powder around on Miller’s desk, encouraging it into a perfect, long line. She’s an expert.

Tony’s pacing the room, swearing profusely, and Miller is just staring at her while keeping me in his vicelike grip. The tension in the room is palpable, and I’m truly anxious about who’s going to make the next move. There’s an overwhelming need to free myself from Miller, but that would leave him to let loose. Everyone is safer while I’m in his arms, but then I’m suddenly not in his arms any more. I’ve been placed on a couch in the corner and Miller is on his way over to Cassie, not that she’s aware. She’s too busy hoovering up the powder on Miller’s desk through a rolled note.

‘Easy, son,’ Tony soothes, flicking his worried eyes to me. The pain in my face has been replaced by awful apprehension. Every person in this room, except me, is like a ticking bomb. And it’s Miller’s fuse that’s burning the fastest.

His palms hit the desk and his bare chest leans forward, getting close to Cassie. She’s now sniffing and wiping at her nose, a smug smile creeping onto her face. ‘I’ve asked more than once. If you make me ask again, I will not be held accountable for my actions.’

She huffs her lack of concern and relaxes back in his chair. I can see arrogance slinking its way across her face. Fearlessness.

‘Smile,’ she says simply, crossing one leg over the other and . . . smiling.

I frown. Smile? What is there to smile about? Nothing.