“I know. I worked for clients like this before… well, not so much into drinking, khm…”
Martina looked up from her typing. “Oh, you can be blunt, Mr Lambert. Spencer drinks like a pig.” She shrugged. “I always wanted a girl. I even cried at the gender reveal… but what can you do? He’s turned out to be a deception, but maybe with time, and his careers taking off, he’ll become better… I’m not sure though.” She sank back into her phone.
Duncan met Henry’s apologetic smile. “He’s not a bad kid… just maybe gone the wrong way, somehow…”
Duncan couldn’t care less, his heart bleeding in his chest, silently. Drinking that hot coffee, washing his tears down his throat. He listened to Henry explain all the other details, nursing his cup, thinking of how his life had tipped in the blink of an eye. His thoughts on those eyes filled to the brim with hate, framed by that lush hair. That same hate in his heart, growing on the soil of his grief.
Chapter 2
Packing was an altogether different experience in that silent flat, but he had enough large suitcases to fit his clothes, and a couple of personal items, some books, and his favorite mugs. Hesitating to take that picture of them off the wall, because what if he did and it made Trent come back? Facing that happiness which had been blasted into the sun, somehow.Fuck.Leaving it, he did a last sweep of the closet, of the bedroom…oh, right.He pulled a drawer out, his hand hovering over the various sex toys. Taking a large, pink vibrator out, knowing that would piss Trent off because he loved that toy,but fuck you, you can shove whatever in your ass now…He put it in his bag, and looked around one last time. He had left the cake to rot on the floor. No matter.He can clean it up, that fuck.Taking his phone, he almost wrote some words which could have brought Trent some relief, but then, his wrath took over, that love turned into bitter embers. Typing.
-I moved out
Sending it. Waiting. His phone rang. Trent. Hesitating, but he declined it.Fuck you.Declined it again as he dragged his suitcases out. Declining it again as he packed them in the elevator and called a cab. Fuck you.Message. He looked at the screen.
-you’re being childish just wanted to wish you well
He almost blew up right there, his head pounding, but then, decided not to call and not to message, because what the fuck for…what for…keeping those burning tears in.Discipline. Come on. Focus.Pulling his suitcases out of the elevator, he walked to the porter and handed him his keys.
“Sir?”
“I’m moving out, Wallace. Trent will pick up the keys when he’s back.”
“I see… I’m sorry.”
“No worries… wishing you all the best.”
“And to you, sir…”
Duncan just nodded and left before his tears would spill. He dragged his suitcases on the curb as the cab pulled up. The driver got out to help him stash his luggage in the trunk. Duncan gave him the address then, getting an appreciative whistle.
“That’s an upgrade!”
“It’s work.”
Not wanting to have that guy think he was moving in with some rich fuck.Maybe I am… Fuck…His mind on that young man, the mere thought of him sending his blood pumping with rage.That’s going to be some assignment…Bracing himself, doing some mental exercises to calm down when he was drenched in grief, floating in a nightmare.You had worse, so much worse…but that had been different, a different kind of torture, torture which shouldn’t exist in a civil life, far from real dangers… A small moan, to kill that ache in his chest threateningto burst it. He typed a message. The last one as far as he was concerned.
-I left the key with Wallace and fuck you don’t try to find me or call
Sent. He blocked him straight away, not wanting to have his words rip his heart open even more. Blocked him on socials too, his family, the friends he knew would side with Trent. Rubbing his face, he squeezed his thumb and index finger in the nook of his eyes, rubbing, trying to get rid of his headache. A pill. Popping the bottle in his backpack, he fished one out and swallowed it dry. Trent had joked about it, how he could swallow dry…Fuck…His eyes on the landscape shifting, up the hill to a rich neighborhood. He knew the area, having worked for other rich clients, but this side of the hill was unknown, with huge mansions overlooking the sparkling city.Rich fucks…as if all those tiny lights were beacons of poverty in that setting night.
The cab pulled up to a wrought iron gate, and a security guard walked out. Duncan showed him his ID. He just opened the gate and gestured them in.
The car, rolling up to that huge mansion, Henry was already waiting on the steps when they stopped on that immaculate white gravel screeching under the cab’s tyres. Duncan paid and got out, taking his suitcases out of the trunk, but several valets had already appeared and took them away. A tall man, with grey hair and a circular beard walked to Duncan with Henry.
He held his hand out and Duncan took it. Both checking the other as their eyes met, and their hands squeezed.
“I’m Martin Evans, Head of security.”
“Duncan Lambert.”
“I’ve heard of you.”
“Hopefully nothing too bad.” He smiled to take the edge off his words.
Martin smiled back. “No, nothing bad.”
Henry looked at Martin. “Duncan will need the car keys, and being shown around the premises, but I guess you know that. He’ll pick up Spencer tomorrow.”
