Loving a Bully

Remember You

Christopher could still remember it.

The day his parents died. The day he lost his sister before she was even born.

The day his whole family was gone.

Letting out a long sigh, Christopher pushed the documents away from him and leaned back in his chair.

Those memories still haunt him, brutalizing his brain, every day, so many f*****g times a day, he couldn’t count. Even after all this time.

And he never got used to it. Psychiatrists and his grandparents told him he would but he didn’t. Witnessing the death of his parents was impossible to get used to. So he learned to bury it which was the only way to eventually let it go. And use the pain and the burn to focus on becoming who he was today.

Christopher had been five years old then but it was the only memory that he could remember with so much clarity in all of his childhood years. Everything else was forgotten. Only that day.

He did remember that he stopped talking after that.

Completely.

He couldn’t recall why exactly he stopped talking. He just did. And because of that, he wasn’t able to go to school. His grandparents couldn’t persuade him to go. Even child psychiatrists were useless. Trapped in an endless nightmare that was of him watching his parents die, of reliving every moment as soon as he closed his eyes to sleep, he thought that no one could ever help him.

Except she did.

April Locke did.

The sound of the door opening drew Christopher out of his memories. Thinking it was Alec come to check up on him, he straightened up on his chair, grabbed a document and looked at the door. It wasn’t Alec. A dark-skinned, middle-aged woman was peering into the room when his gaze hit her. Seeing him, she smiled and stepped in.

“Did she eat?” he asked her.

Martha Darling sighed and took the chair in front of him but she did it rather gingerly, perching on the edge of the seat, as if she felt she shouldn't be there. He didn’t assure her. Past experience had told him she would always be like this to him.

“She didn’t,” Martha answered in an empathetic tone. “And she’s not talking to me anymore. She’s just staring into the ceiling with no expression on her face. I’m afraid she’s in shock.”

Christopher tossed the documents back on his desk with a sharp flick of his wrist that was eloquent of his blackening mood. To try and keep his calm, he poured her a drink from another bottle of whiskey on his table.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, taking the drink he offered.

Leaning forward, Christopher put his elbows on the desk and formed a steeple with his hands.

“What can I do?” he asked almost desperately.

She gave him another of her smiles. “Give her some time, I suppose. She’ll come out of it eventually. She’s a strong woman.”

Fuck time.

He’d given her time and time again to come to him. But she never did.

“Her heart?” he asked worriedly.

“Her last doctor told me that the last time she had a full check-up she was fine. I’m having her medical records sent to me, nonetheless. And you know what that means, right?”

A higher fee, of course.

Because Martha Darling wasn’t really a doctor. Yet she was. To people like them.

He nodded at her. “I will have everything taken care of, Martha. Just get it done, please.”

Martha gave him a long look, studying him.

Then she said, “There’s something else.”

“What is it?”

Martha took a sip of her drink, never removing her gaze from him. “She’s afraid.”

His brows drew together. “Of course, she’s afraid. Her f*****g father—.”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s not him she fears now, son.”

A heavy, unpleasant weight settled in his gut.

“Me?” he whispered.

She nodded curtly.

“I didn’t do s**t to her,” he said, struggling to keep the bite from his voice. “She’s never even let me close enough to do anything. Even before she disappeared, we’d never been in the same room alone.”

“I know,” Martha told him, putting the glass down. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong to her. I know. I can tell. You’re a good man, Christopher Lawrence. And it’s a trait you actually could do without.”

He didn’t mistake the censure in her tone. In this line of work, goodness and kindness had no place.

“But,” she leaned back with a sigh as she continued to speak, “something about you does make her feel afraid.”

That was what he wanted to know too.

He wasn’t even surprised April demanded him to take her back. All her life, she had been trying to run away from him for some reason. And he was going to finally seek that reason while she stayed here.

“Living with Edward, it couldn’t have been easy.” Martha’s dark gaze slid to the window. “I know Edward. And I know and have seen what he is capable of.”

“It’s not lost on me what that bastard is capable of,” Christopher murmured. “I’ve known since high school.”

Her surprised eyes returned to him. “Since high school?” she asked in disbelief. “But if I’m not mistaken, it was long before you were—.”

“I came upon the information completely by accident,” he interrupted.

That disbelief turned into shock. “That accident could have given you another accident if he knew, Christopher. One that could have made you lose your life.”

He shrugged. “I guess I was lucky.”

Her eyes were now shining with elation when she leaned towards him. “Then you truly deserve that seat, son,” she told him fervently. “You truly are a Lawrence.”

Unfortunately.

But he didn’t want to talk about this s**t right now.

He dismissed her after she finished her drink and watched as she walked out of the room.

Then he returned his gaze to the documents and reached for them, not because Alec would nag the f**k out of him but because he didn’t want to think about anything but work anymore.

Including being a true Lawrence.