The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

Annette’s laughter rang through the warm air and it was the first thing I heard when I pushed out of the building’s front entrance, my heart lodged in my throat.

She was leaning against the car with her arms folded and her head tilted, doing the laugh she used when she was trying to butter up a man.

The man she was directing it at had his back to me, dressed in the same black jacket and pants that I had seen him in at the morgue. He had a canvas bag over one arm.

Gavin.

My shoes skidded against the floor in their tracks. Annette’s eyes found mine over his shoulder for a second and she tilted her head further while she laughed harder at the murderer grinning down at her.

She must have seen him approach and began flirting with him to stall for time.

Best fucking friend ever. I raced to the back of the building and pressed back against the wall of the building, pressing my body flatly, my pulse hammering so loud I could barely think.

He would recognize me. He had seen me at the morgue, chances were that he would recognize me, realize I was with Annette and then try to hurt her. I couldn’t take any chances.

Annette’s voice carried over through the air. "Well, it was so lovely to meet you, I have to get going though,"

"You sure I can’t get your number?"

No you can’t, you cock sucking killer!

I gritted my teeth, digging my nails into my palm.

"I’m sure, take care now!"

I held my breath, hearing his boots stomp into the building. Annette turned on the car and drove down the block. I walked briskly, hiding my face with my hair as I rushed down to get into the car with her.

"Holy shit, that was insane," I gasped, staring at her with wine blown eyes. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes crinkled as she checked the mirrors just to be sure dear old Gavin wasn’t following us. "Please tell me you got it so we never have to come to this neighborhood again,"

"I... the phone was there. I planted the tracker on it." I pressed the back of my head against the headrest and closed my eyes.

"I couldn’t take it though or get through the password. I think he also can’t get through the password. There must be numerous security systems on that phone, Raymond Cole was the most paranoid man I know."

"Fine, If he moves it we’ll know." She exhaled, her hands trembling on the steering wheel as she drove us out of the street. "And then we submit it to the freaking authorities."

She was scared. I was too. But the authorities hadn’t protected Raymond and he was a detective. I knew those behind my parents death wanted it all buried but I couldn’t allow it.

"Annie, I don’t trust the authorities,"

"This isn’t like hacking into Drake’s account for a little revenge, Abigail. This man is a murderer. A murderer knows both our faces,hon. We can’t keep doing this ourselves, really."

I sighed, dropping my head against the window watching the streets and city go by, people living their lives the best that they could. My parents would have enjoyed that, living their lives.

"You’re lucky I’m a fantastic flirt," Annette grunted tossing me a teasing smile.

"You really are," I agreed, flashing one right back at her. "It’s your best quality."

"Eh, nope. My second best. My best quality is not letting my silly best friend get caught planting trackers in murderers’ apartments."

That dragged a weary laughter from my lips. "Also very true."

She reached over, dropping a hand over mine and squeezed. "It’ll be fine okay?"

I hoped so.

***

The weekend passed in a blur and when Monday rolled in, Finnegan did not show up at the office. All I got was a work email stating he was in Japan. Japan wasn’t even on his schedule at all.

I would be lying if I said it wasn’t heart crushing. Apparently my boss was so sickened with me, so furious that he carted himself off to Japan without a second thought.

Now it was Tuesday, half past four. I had checked my phone approximately eleven times in the last hour for a message that wasn’t obviously coming.

I had attended his meetings where I could represent him and the others that demanded his personal attention, I had rescheduled.

Did he hate me?

The question had been sitting on my chest since I had left his penthouse with the taste of him still in my mouth and the memory of that look on his face when he turned away.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come on to him or oh I don’t fucking know. Now, I feel like an awful person.

Then there was that note on the gift box next to his bed. My Angel. I had been trying not to think about that note but hey, I guess failing to please my boss wasn’t the only thing I was failing at.

"You can head home, girl,"

I tore my eyes from my phone screen to see Gina Wolfe standing beside my desk in a cream coat, her silver hair immaculate as always and those green eyes giving me her usual dirty looks.

Behind her, through the glass, a decorator team was moving through Finnegan’s office with equipment cases and rolls of brown paper.

Someone had stacked cardboard boxes along the interior glass walls, blocking most of the view from outside.

"I’m fine to stay until the team is done, Mrs Wolfe," I said in a pleasant drawl.

She had just shown up an hour ago with the decorator team insisting Finnegan’s office was in need of a decoration. I didn’t bother arguing with her but I was not leaving until all the decorators were gone.

Why didn’t they come earlier?

"It’s the close of work. The team has everything handled." She gestured vaguely toward the elevator. "There’s no need for you to be here."

"I’ll just finish up these notes," I said, turning back to my computer screen.

She remained standing beside my desk, which was not something the great Gina Wolfe typically did.

I rose to my feet, heels digging into the carpet.

"I’ll just check on the team quickly so we can see if they’ll work on it tomorrow instead "

"They don’t need checking on." She snapped, jolting me with surprise. "They’re professionals."

She smiled, which was somehow more alarming than when her face was as dry as a pile of moss. My eyes flicked to the glass walls, I couldn’t see through the office.

"Actually," I beamed, grinning at her. "I need to grab something from his desk."

Just as my heels clicked hurriedly towards the door, she caught up to me, her hand finding my elbow. "It can wait until tomorrow surely,"

"It really can’t, Mrs Wolfe," I kept my voice pleasant as barbed wire, matched her smile with one of my own, and reached for the office door handle.

The door swung open and my eyes widened at the sight before me.