stayed the night at Rebecca’s and spent it tossing and turning on her sofa.
After leaving the care home, I met her outside mine, and together we searched the entire flat. Not only did we find a camera outside my flat, hidden in the artificial plant hanging between mine and my neighbour’s door, but also one inside my living room, another in the hallway next to the front door, and one pointing towards my bedroom. I felt sickened, revolted that he could invade my privacy so easily.
I destroyed them, shaking with rage as a ton of emotions ran through me. I knew he could be a monster but to stoop so low as to put cameras in my home was a new level, even for Andrew. I felt violated, to the point my skin crawled, and I couldn’t stay there. I just kept imagining him watching me and playing back every little thing I have done or said over the past few months, wondering what he could have seen or heard. Ten o’clock came and I couldn’t settle. I kept searching the light fixtures and the books on my shelves to make sure we hadn’t missed any. I still couldn’t be sure, which is when I called Rebecca and cried. She invited me to stay the night, which is where I ended up.
Rebecca, however, knew a guy called Liam who had installed the security for her father’s golf club. She said she was going to get him to check the flat today whilst I was at work, and to fit in my own camera that no one would detect so we could keep an eye on people coming and going.
The only saving grace was there wasn’t one in my bedroom—that we could find.
It’s early, just gone six, and already I’m pulling into work. I don’t start until half eight, but I couldn’t sit around doing nothing. I need to take my mind off it and work is the best thing. At first, I wasn’t going to come in, but Rebecca reminded me that I couldn’t help them get rid of Andrew if I wasn’t in the office. If they suspect someone has leaked the information, I want to be there to explain. I need to find time away from the others so I can tell Wyatt first. He deserves that much.
Shutting off the car, I then pull down the sun visor, flicking down the mirror to make sure my makeup is still covering the slight bruising on either side of my cheeks. This morning, the bruises were barely there, only light green, yet they were still noticeable to the eye. So, Rebecca gave me a foundation that has the ultimate coverage, and it worked. I can’t see them. I couldn’t do much for the tiny cut on my lip or the bruises on my arm, so after our morning coffee, Rebecca helped me come up with a plausible excuse for how I got them. It might work, it might not, but it’s the only reasonable explanation I can come up with. And it will kill me to say it.
I slide out of the car and let myself into the office using the key Jaxon gave me a few weeks ago.
Flicking on the lights, I notice no one cleaned up after leaving Saturday night. So, after turning the alarm off, and then turning the heater on, I make my way to the back and grab a dustpan and brush, along with a bin bag.
Glass covers the floor near Jaxon’s desk, which has many questions running through my mind. It seems like a lifetime ago that the fire happened. I can’t remember if he did it while I was there.
Sweeping it up doesn’t take me long, but once I’m finished, I’ve worked up a sweat, so I pull the cardigan I’m wearing off and throw it over my desk.
I run my hands down my dress, straightening it. It brings back memories of Saturday night and a smile lifts at the corner of my lips. I still can’t believe he tore my skirt and shirt. I have others, sure, but none as nice as the ones he ripped apart.
I forgot my work clothes when I left for Rebecca’s last night, but luckily she still has samples of clothing people have sent to her to model or promote. It’s a perk of having a friend who is a part-time model. The downfall is Rebecca has a smaller arse than me, so the black dress, although