Cut Too Deep (6 page)

Hadley sloshed through the rain to work, the wind whipping her umbrella crazily. She spotted the circus of media in front of the building, scurrying around like cockroaches. As she pushed her way through the crowd, a hand grabbed hers and pulled her toward the doors.

Mac ushered her into the building.

“This is crazy, huh?” he asked.

“Uh…yeah…just a tad,” Hadley agreed and collapsed the umbrella, carefully avoiding flying drops of water.

“Looks like your man got himself into trouble,” Mac said as they entered the elevator.

She pressed the button for their floor before glaring at him.

“He’s not my man!”

A smile tugged at the corners of Mac’s mouth.

“Not yet, but he will be once you write him.”

“Are you insane?” Mac laughed at Hadley’s question. “I’m not writing him.”

“You should. I know you’ll never speak to him face to face. This is perfect.”

Hadley enjoyed Mac’s enthusiasm, although she thought he was ridiculous.

“He’s getting letters from plenty of women. Haven’t you watched the news?”

The elevator doors opened, and they walked toward their office.

“True. But, he doesn’t want their letters.”

“Well, he damn sure doesn’t want mine,” Hadley argued, remembering her and Miller’s encounter in the elevator. “I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m unstable.”

They approached the hallway intersection and rather than continuing to his office, Mac followed Hadley when she rounded the corner toward her desk.

“I’m not so sure. He was watching you the other day.”

“What? You’re crazy.”

Mac sat on top of her desk and glanced around, looking to see if anyone was watching. Hadley shoved her purse in the desk drawer, ignoring him.

“He came up to see Mr. Jensen. You were in a heated argument with the printer. He stopped and stared at you.”

“Like I said, he thinks I’m a lunatic.”

“Uh-uh. I know my men, girly. His eyes traveled all over your body. He looked at you like he wanted to do very bad things to you, in a very good way.”

Warmth caressed Hadley’s inner thighs when she thought about Miller looking at her indecently. She shoved Mac from her desk, and he laughed.

“You’re a pervert. And you’re mistaken. Go to work, before you get me in trouble”.

“He asked who you were.”

That got her attention.

“He did?” Mac nodded, grinning like a gossiping teenage girl. “What did Mr. Jensen say?”

His grin disappeared completely. “Nothing.”

The slight shrug of his shoulders suggested more than he let on.

“Oh, no you don’t, Mac! You better tell me!”

“It was no big deal. He told Mr. Genetti not to go there with you.” His words hurt more than they should. She allowed her head to fall, her hair hiding her disappointment. “It wasn’t personal. Mr. Genetti is a client of the firm. I’m sure Mr. Jensen doesn’t want him fraternizing with any of the employees.”

Hadley lifted her head and turned on her computer. “You’re probably right,” she agreed, but deep inside she knew Mac was mistaken. She always had a sense that Mr. Jensen thought her to be beneath the rest of the employees, which meant he absolutely didn’t think her worthy of Miller.

“Of course, I’m right, not only about Dickhead, but about Miller Genetti having a serious thing for you. Now, tell me you’ll write him a letter.”

“So not happening, and you’re not right about this one.”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too,” he continued, strolling away.

“Mac, wait!” Hadley walked toward him when he turned around. “I want to make sure we’re good.”

He let out a small laugh. “You mean you want to make sure I have no more plans to kiss you.” Her eyes widened, but then Mac planted a chaste kiss on top of her head and continued, “We’re fine. You’re not the first girl to reject me. Besides, I know you’re holding out for the G-man”

“The G-man, really?” Hadley stifled a laugh and glared at him in a way she hoped conveyed a threat. “Drop it! I’m not holding out for him.”

“Whoa!” Mac backed away with his hands in the air. “Defensive much?” If Hadley were near her desk, she would throw something at him. A paperweight perhaps would knock some sense into him. “Are too,” Mac said again before disappearing down the hall.

Real mature
, Hadley thought, but couldn’t help laughing.
Are not!

She sat back at her desk and sighed. Once sure no prying eyes were close by, Hadley opened her drawer and pulled the letter she’d already written out of her purse.

With another quick glance, she determined it was safe to read it.

Dear Mr. Genetti,

I don't have any idea what possessed me to write you. The news says letters from home will comfort you. I wonder if that's true, or will it only make things harder for you. This is crazy. I don't know what to say to you. My name is Hadley. I work in your building. I'm sure you have no idea who I am. Stupid, right?

This little voice in my head keeps telling me to write you. If you're reading this, the annoying voice won.

Hadley paused as a smile lifted her mouth. She thought how the only way Miller would ever read the letter, was if Mac pushed her to send it. And that would never happen.

What do I say? How are you seems ridiculous. I don't know. What do you miss the most about home? See, even lamer.

I'm sure you're inundated with letters anyway. There are plenty of women on the news talking about writing you and how much they love you. I personally think they should tell the truth; how they want to land themselves a rich husband. Okay, that was a bit petty, I admit, but they're seriously desperate.

I see you every morning, and there's something about you I'm drawn to. Given I don't have that reaction with another living person, I've considered talking with you to see if I could find out what it is about you I seem to be mesmerized with.

I guess I have my answer. Curiosity explains why I'm writing this.

Hadley made it no farther in the letter before she had to leave for work. Now that she read it again, not only would it remain unfinished, but no way in hell would she ever mail it.

Patricia approached, and Hadley shoved the letter into the top drawer of her desk. Patricia barely stopped before a folder landed on top of the desk. Hadley’s co-worker continued walking, her long blonde hair bouncing with each stride. The woman had always been a bitch, and the nicer Hadley tried to be to her, the nastier she became. The other designers had the courtesy to ask Hadley to look over a design, not Patricia. She always tossed a folder and kept going. Mac called her
Tosser
, which Hadley loved because of the dual meaning, and also because it allowed them to talk shit about her with others around.

Mr. Jensen called out sick today. Mac was right about things being seriously off with their boss. It must be bad. In the three and a half years Hadley had been with the firm, Mr. Jensen never missed a day of work.

The rest of the day sailed by smoothly. Hadley cleared a huge amount of work from her desk, had lunch with Mac, and surprisingly got asked for her input on a design idea for a new campaign from one of the rookie designers.

Hadley opened the drawer to get her purse and remembered the letter she wrote Miller. It was missing. She went from feeling good to a complete and utter nut case as she tried to find it. She scoured the trash, under the desk, and every file in the drawers. It was gone, vanished into thin air. After convincing herself not to panic, she decided that it must have gotten thrown away somehow. Other than a short lunch with Mac, she’d been at her desk.

On her walk home from work, Hadley tried not to think about someone going through her desk drawers and finding the letter while she sat at lunch, wolfing down chicken salad and speculating with Mac as to why Mr. Jensen was out. She imagined her co-workers discussing her feelings for Miller in a bout of juicy office gossip.

Thinking about the possibilities would be considered paranoid behavior and wouldn’t please Dr. LeClair, but hell if Hadley could stop herself from agonizing about it.

She popped into the Chinese restaurant a block away from her apartment to grab takeout. She ordered from there at least three times a week, and Mr. Chung had her order rung up before Hadley reached the counter.

Hadley was almost home when she saw Mr. Duwatski pacing the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. The bag of food fell from her grip. With wobbly knees, she squatted down and tossed the mustard packets and cookies back into the paper sack. She stood and held the bag against her chest because her fingers trembled so fiercely she couldn’t get a good grip.

Her blood boiled in her ears as she approached him. His eyes stayed trained on hers. Hadley wanted to look away, but held his gaze defiantly until she finally reached him.

“What are you doing here?”

Harold Duwatski smiled as though the anger in her voice gave him immense pleasure. “I came to check up on you.”

“In case you forgot, it’s no longer your job to check up on me…and stop calling my phone.”

Harold’s eye twitched, and he shook his head.

“I haven’t called you.”

“Right!”

The indignant manner she dismissed him threw him off guard.

“I don’t have your new phone number, which is why I’m making a personal appearance.”

Hadley inspected her former guardian. She hadn’t seen him in close to three years. Pox marks dotted the hollow of his cheeks. His complexion appeared greasier than normal, the skin around his eyes shaded with dark shadows. Her eyes traveled over his wrinkled clothing to his overgrown mousy-brown hair, both of which were extremely out of character for him. She wondered for a moment why the typical OCD Harold Duwatski had let his appearance slip to such a disheveled state, and then remembered, she didn’t give a shit about this man.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

With a stiff spine, Hadley pushed past the man who helped destroy her. She made her way up the five steps to the door of her building. His recognizable and repulsive scent hit her stomach, causing her to gag. It wasn’t B.O. exactly, more like old sweat that cultivated in his folds and creases for years, musty and dirty. A shudder ran through her as Hadley vividly remembered the way his skin felt touching hers.

Before her hand reached the knob, Harold said, “I saw you.”

Hadley turned her head his way, but didn’t turn around.

“Saw me where?”

Harold sighed purposefully and loud enough for her to hear.

“Those parties are illegal.”

“They aren’t parties. I went there to dance,” Hadley said still facing the door. If she turned around, she would say something stupid, or do something regrettable. Something he would manipulate and use against her for his own enjoyment. She was just short of an incident free five years on her own. Another six months, and Hadley would no longer be under court supervision. She considered the short time she had left probably explained his visit.

“It doesn’t matter why you went.” Hadley flinched when she heard the sole of his shoe press into the bottom stair. “They’re illegal.”

Angry at his intrusiveness into her life, Hadley spun to face him, her teeth grinding together.

“What do you want?”

He grinned triumphantly, his eyes twinkling in morbid satisfaction.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“No!”

“You should reconsider.”

“Go away, please.”

When he climbed another step, Hadley resisted the urge to shove his fat ass down the stairs. As gratifying as it would be, the consequence for assault would be disastrous for her future plans. Harold’s eyes flickered with malice. The sick bastard clearly delighted in her reaction to him.

“I know how much you enjoy your silly hobby, but there’s still some concern regarding your mental stability. I’ve been thinking of going to the court and telling them what you’re up to, but thought I’d give you a chance to make it right first.”

Her former guardian’s words were disparaging. There had been a time when Hadley would have succumbed to his threats, a time when she felt weak and thought of herself as helpless. Stronger now, Hadley still faced many things in life that terrified her, but this pathetic, disgusting waste of air, wasn’t one of them. She wouldn’t allow him to belittle her, nor would she allow him to control her and force himself on her.

Hadley stepped down one stair, so they were eye to eye, and with steel resolve, she shouted, “Go to hell!”

Without waiting for his reply, Hadley turned away from him and opened the door. She slammed the door behind her and relished the incredible feeling of pride that swelled up inside of her. Harold Duwatski manipulated her fears for years, because she’d lacked the will to fight him and knew he would make her life hell if she did.

Once free from the lunatic’s clutches, she vowed to be strong and never let anyone abuse her again, especially him. Her promise meant giving up her dream of being a dancer. The decision haunted her, but the look on his face when she stood up to him eased the pain. For the first time in forever, Hadley Walker felt free.