Carnage by Sarah Bailey

Five

West

I stepped out of my office with my head buried in my phone. These fucking figures weren’t adding up. It meant I needed Francis. Nothing worse than having to ask for his damn help. I didn’t like being at anyone else’s mercy. Still, we couldn’t afford to fuck up with this account, so needs must.

Voices floated up the corridor, making me glance up. I came to a complete standstill, feeling the wind knocked out of me in an instant. It’s not as if I didn’t know Drake was interviewing today. However, it didn’t prepare me for the sight of her.

I had put little thought into how it would feel. My heart thundered in my ears, the sound echoing around my skull over and over. The violence of it settled over me. I revelled in it. Wild emotions got me going in a way nothing else did.

My arm dropped to my side, my fingers curling tighter around my phone. I couldn’t help watching them. How Drake seemed relaxed, and yet the tension in his shoulders and eyes told me otherwise. The way she clutched her handbag, her fingers worrying at the leather strap like she was nervous and unsure of herself. And when they turned the corner into the lobby, I followed, tugged by an invisible cord wrapped around my wrist.

I peered around the wall in time to see them come to a standstill outside the lifts. Drake pressed the button before stepping back and staring down at her. My eyes drifted down to her pert behind, causing my thoughts to run rampant with things best left in the dark recesses of my mind. The others might have been able to fool themselves into believing shit like we were all just friends, but not me. No, I was fucking realistic. And there was no way in hell I could deny the twisted fucked up parts of us craved something more.

“So, Deborah will be in touch to let you know either way,” Drake said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

I almost scoffed. The outcome had been set in stone long before she even stepped into the building. I didn’t deal in the same nonsense as the rest of them did. Whilst I never described myself as seeing the world in black and white, I was straight shooting when it came to saying it like it is. I didn’t mince words. Probably why most of our staff stayed well out of my way. I delegated a lot of day-to-day stuff to my junior, Andrew. Easier that way. Didn’t have the time or patience for idiots. He had tact. I took a sledgehammer to people if they pissed me off. Once it happened quite literally, but the less said about that incident, the better. Francis would only lament the blood splatters ruining his favourite shirt all over again. I mean, I’d bought him a new one and all that shit, but he still held it against me. The prick held me to account for every one of my supposed wrongdoings.

“Okay, great,” she replied, looking up at Drake so I could see her face in profile.

The way her neck stretched made my fingers twitch in anticipation of being wrapped around the slender column of flesh. Holding myself back from striding across the lobby and doing so took a supreme effort on my part. The others would have my fucking head if I ruined our plans.

It was lucky the lift arrived then, the doors sliding open. She gave Drake a smile and a nod before stepping into it.

“Goodbye, Miss Carver,” Drake said, without a single trace of emotion in his voice.

“Bye, Mr Ackley.”

She reached over and pressed a button to go down. Drake waited whilst the doors closed. I caught the flash of emotion across her face before they slid shut. The confusion there made me wonder what she’d been thinking about.

Drake turned around and walked over to Tonya’s desk, his hand still dug into his pockets.

“Tell Deb to draw up the paperwork and to let Miss Carver know she’s been successful.”

I couldn’t see Tonya’s expression, but her hand tightened around her mouse.

“Don’t you have more interviews today?”

Drake didn’t even shrug. He merely stared at her.

“I do.”

“Then why are you telling me this now? Surely you haven’t decided yet.”

Tonya had fucking balls. She would never talk to me like that, but then again, she was shit scared of me. Probably because I’d threatened her on more than one occasion, much to Drake and Francis’ displeasure. I’d only been joking, but Francis spent most of his time with a stick up his arse so no wonder he wasn’t amused. Drake had other reasons for wanting me to keep my behaviour in check. I didn’t care for either of their concerns.

Drake’s eyebrow rose, but he didn’t outwardly show any emotion otherwise. That was Drake for you. Never giving away how he felt about anything.

“Are you questioning my decisions?”

“I just… no, Mr Ackley. I’ll get it done, but I have to ask… do you still want to interview the other candidates?”

“Send them in when they arrive. After all, I have to do my due diligence.”

He didn’t let her respond, strolling away towards where I was standing.

“I didn’t think skulking around corners spying on people was your thing, West.”

Tonya’s head whipped around, her eyes going wide as she spied me. Then she turned away abruptly, but not before I saw the flash of fear in them. Something I was used to when it came to anyone other than Francis, Drake, and Prescott. Most people gave me a wide berth unless they were unaware of my reputation.

Drake stopped next to me, his indigo eyes flashing with amusement.

“I’m not,” I replied, glaring at him.

He knew exactly why I’d been lurking. As if I could help myself when it came to her.

“You out of your office for a reason?”

“Need to speak to Frankie.”

“Mr Beaufort is with Mr Ellis,” Tonya threw over her shoulder, clearly eavesdropping as usual.

Maybe I should put the bitch in her place again.

“Thank you, Tonya,” Drake said, waving his hand at her before starting off towards Prescott’s office. I trailed after him, shoving my phone in my pocket and leaving thoughts of tormenting Tonya behind me.

Drake didn’t bother knocking, opening the door and striding in. Prescott and Francis’ voices hit me the moment I reached the door myself.

“No, I gave you a budget and you need to stick to it,” Francis said with frustration lacing his voice.

“And I just told you I need more,” Prescott replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant on the edge of his desk.

Francis stood a few feet away with a thunderous expression gracing his features. It hardly surprised me they were arguing over finances again. Prescott couldn’t budget to save his life, which is why Francis, despite being an uptight prick, was the Director of Finance. He could turn a few pennies into thousands. About the only attribute of his I admired without reservation.

“Pres, if Francis says no, it’s a no,” Drake interrupted, walking over to the windows and staring out over the city.

I shut the door and leant against it, watching both Prescott and Francis turn and stare at Drake’s back.

“You pulling the CEO card on me?” Prescott retorted.

“Yes.”

Prescott’s mouth pressed into a thin line and his blue eyes flashed with irritation. Served him fucking right. He was always acting far too big for his boots. I wanted to question why we’d remained friends with the self-entitled prick, but even I couldn’t deny we needed each other. We were stronger together. It’d been this way since we were kids. Even though I’d quite happily throw Prescott into a woodchipper for his narcissism and arrogance, I knew it wasn’t an option. He was useful… sometimes.

“You going to tell us how it went then?” Francis asked, continuing to stare at Drake’s back.

“Fine, she’ll do just fine,” Drake said.

“Is that it?”

Drake turned his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“What do you want me to say, Francis? That seeing her was easy? It wasn’t, and you know it.”

Francis rubbed his face.

“No, you’re right. It wasn’t.”

“Hold on, you got to see her?” Prescott asked, his eyes widening.

“So did I,” I said, my voice quiet as I stared at the three of them.

“What the fuck, guys? I thought we said we wouldn’t all crowd her.”

I smiled. Prescott was put out by being the only one not to have seen her. Served him fucking right.

“Hey, not my fault I was coming back from a meeting when she arrived,” Francis said, shrugging as if he hadn’t intentionally planned to intercept her. I knew his fucking game.

Both he and Prescott looked at me.

“Before you get your knickers in a twist, West didn’t talk to her. Staring at her from around a corner doesn’t count as anything other than being a creep,” Drake said, saving me from responding.

Francis snorted. Prescott shook his head.

“Fuck off,” I muttered. “I was not being a creep.”

“No, I’m sure you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Oh, as if you can fucking blame me. You do have eyes, right?”

He finally turned around and we could all see the smirk gracing his lips.

“I noticed… hard not to.”

“Then don’t give me shit.”

They always gave me a hard time. I suppose sometimes I deserved it when they had to clean up my messes because I had difficulty remaining calm. My temper was violent and unforgiving. It’s not as if I was unaware of my own faults. I merely embraced who I was, unlike the rest of them hiding behind walls and never showing their true colours.

“I should’ve stuck my head out the door to get a glance at her,” Prescott mused as he rubbed his chin.

“You’ll see her soon enough,” Francis said, rolling his eyes.

“That’s if she accepts the job.”

Drake strolled over to where I was standing, blocking the door. He glanced back at Prescott.

“She will.”

“And you know that for sure?”

I stepped away from the door as he reached for it.

“You doubting me, Pres?”

“As if.”

“Then trust me. She’ll accept and then we’ll see how far our little Scarlett is willing to go.”

He walked out without waiting for a response.

“And you lot complain about me being arrogant.”

“You are arrogant, Pres,” I said, grinning.

“No one fucking well asked your opinion, West.”

I stuck a finger up at him, which only made Prescott drop his hands from his chest and glare at me.

“At least he calls you by your fucking name,” Francis muttered.

Sour puss really needed to get over it. I think he only hated it because it reminded him of what she used to call him.

“Don’t get me started on your uptight bullshit, Frankie.”

“Oh boy, here we go,” Prescott said before Francis stepped towards me, his fist clenching at his side.

“You know what, next time you call me that, I’m going to stab you in the eye with a fucking letter opener.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I said, grinning at him. “Last time you attempted to hit me, you ended up needing stitches.”

Francis’ face went red and he clenched his jaw shut.

“Anyway, I actually need you to come look at some figures for me,” I continued. “Shit isn’t adding up with the Bykov account, and you know, I’d prefer not to tell the Russians we fucked up.”

Francis threw his hands up.

“Why didn’t you fucking well say so in the first place?”

“Seeing you get all pissy is more fun.”

He stalked towards me, glaring.

“One day I’m going to put your face through a glass wall.”

“Can I watch?” Prescott piped up as Francis disappeared out the door.

The last we saw of him was his hand appearing to flip us the finger. I glanced at Prescott who had a wide smile on his face.

“So… would you then?” he asked.

“Would I what?”

He waggled his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, Pres.”

“What? You were the one creeping on her.”

“You have a one-track mind.”

I started out of the door.

“Come on, West, you can be real with me… I know how you felt back then.”

I stiffened, stopping in my tracks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you were a lovesick puppy who wanted what he couldn’t have.”

I wanted to turn around and shove him into a wall, but I didn’t. Losing my temper with Prescott wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“You don’t know shit, Pres.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. It can’t be easy for you, so, you know, if you want to talk about it…”

“I don’t.”

Nothing would ever make me talk about that shit. None of them would get it. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

“Francis and Drake don’t know, do they?”

“There’s nothing to know.”

“West…”

“Just fucking drop it.”

I stalked away, irritated that Prescott even had an inkling of the way I’d always felt about her. It hadn’t changed. It permanently marked me in ways I wasn’t ready to talk about. Instead, I drowned myself in pussy, alcohol, drugs and violence to get by. My coping mechanisms were unhealthy as fuck, but I didn’t care. We all had our vices. Mine happened to be deviant and perverse. And I revelled in them. If it made me a sick fuck, then so be it. I wouldn’t change for anyone.

Prescott could go fuck himself. I wasn’t going to discuss shit with him. Digging up those old memories would not end well for anyone. I was sure none of them wanted to clean up the result of me going off the rails yet again.

I stalked back towards my office, where I knew Francis would be waiting for me, wondering how the fuck I was going to cope when she was here all the time. Guess I would have to wait and see. And I wasn’t looking forward to it. At all.