Sucker punch

Caleb's POV

A familiar dread settled over me as I felt the car move. The road was slick with downpour, making my stomach cramp with nerves.

I hated riding in the backseat, I thought with a huff. It made me nauseous. But then she slid closer to me, and her warm scent calmed me, like always.

**

I moved around restlessly, feeling like I was knowingly stepping into a swamp, but unable to stop myself. My head hurt, but the guilt and dread just kept rising like a tide inside me.

Some part of my subconscious knew that it was not real, but the rest of my mind was stuck on the nightmare as the vision progressed onto its usual route.

I floundered around, trying to grab onto something that will help. Make it stop. My hand landed on something soft, like silk threads, and my brain paused as confusion swept over me.

Even in my semi-conscious state, I couldn't imagine one thing that would feel like this. I let my palm slide over it, feeling it ripple and move. I frowned, and realising just now that my eyes were open, staring sight-lessly above me.

The silky strands beneath my palm sighed - wait, sighed? - making me look sideways.

The only light in the room was a tiny lamp left on near the door, silhouetting a sleeping form beside me. A feeling of wrongness and guilt flooded me.

What the hell? Where was I? Did I hook up with someone and fell asleep? A sudden image of Ruth cuddled in a woolen overcoat, all rosy cheeked and innocent popped up in my mind, and I jackknifed on the bed, looking around me wildly.

It took a moment for my surroundings to register and then another to remember where I was, and with whom. A soft snore sounded next to me, and I looked back down to see Ruth snuggle deeper into the covers with her back to me, fast asleep.

My breathing calmed as I stared at her, and the darkness slowly drained from me.

She was here. In the mansion. In my bed. I touched my cheek to make sure that I was awake.

Wait a minute, I was awake? How?

Another soft snore rose from her, as if to answer my question, and suddenly I remembered my birthday night a weeks ago. She had chased the demons away that night too, just like she had chased them away tonight.

I had no idea what was it about her that had this effect on me, but I was too greedy to turn away from the peace she promised.

Slowly, as to not wake her, I shifted until I was propped onto my side, holding myself up on my elbow. With one of my hands playing with the silky strands of her hairs, I slowly pulled the blanket down from her face with other, tucking it just below her chin.

I didn't know how long I sat like that, watching her, but eventually sleep beckoned me, promising peace and rest this time.

And so I wrapped my arm around her waist, buried my face in her hairs and fell into a peaceful slumber for the first time ever.

Ruth's POV

A tickling sensation somewhere near my throat woke me. I frowned in annoyance, not wanting to open my eyes just yet.

I went to push away whatever it was, but as soon as my fingers encountered something hairy and warm, I yelped and opened my eyes.

A huge cluster of dark hairs that was attached to my boss' head was lying on my chest, his arms wrapped tight around my waist, snuggling closer each time I tried to squirm away.

There was a faint smile on his lips, making me wonder if he was awake, but then he mumbled something and buried his face in my chest, and I relaxed.

Well, as much as I could in the uncomfortable position I was in. His weight was pressing me into the mattress, making my body too heated. One of my hands was buried into his hairs while other was hanging off the edge of the bed, as if seeking some escape from his overheated body.

Twisting carefully, I untangled myself from him, and stood near the edge of the bed to cool off. Caleb rolled over restlessly, his brows drawn together in a tight frown, no longer looking peaceful.

I had a sudden urge to get back in the bed to soothe him, but as soon as the thought struck, I backpeddled and walked out of the room before I could give in.

The corridors were lit up with the early morning light as I wandered downstairs, trying to remember Caleb's tour.

It was a beautiful mansion, now that it wasn't half shrouded in the dark, and I couldn't help but admire its high ceilings and wide arches as I strolled into what I presumed to be the grand dining room that I had briefly glimpsed at the night before.

My appraisal stopped, however, when I entered the room, running straight into a huge, solid body.

"Oomph," sounded somewhere 10 feet above me. I yelped for the second time in half an hour, looking up to see Leo scowling down at me.

"Are you really trying to kill me, banshee?" He said accusingly, rubbing his stomach. For a moment, his face from last night flashed before my eyes, and I couldn't think of what to say to him.

Was he the guy I had come to know and like in the last few days? Or was he the angry stranger that had made his appearance the night before?

But before I could decide on what to say, another voice spoke up.

"Are you really making a habit of getting beaten up by women half your size, Leo?"

We both looked over to see a beautiful blonde standing few feet away, smirking at us. She wore an ice blue dress as she walked up to us, holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and shook my hand with her other.

"For the last fucking time, she caught me by surprise! Twice!" Leo protested indignantly, making her laugh.

"And you must be Ruth. I'm Ana, by the way. Its nice to finally you!" Even though her smile was friendly enough, I couldn't help but feel a little on guard in her presence. Her eyes were blue like the summer sky but something about its shape seemed familiar somehow, but I put my finger on where I have seen them before.

"You must be hungry, Ruth. Come on, let grab something to eat. Then I'll introduce you to the rest of the people."

I grabbed some coffee and scrambled eggs for myself, while Leo walked off to talk to a middle aged couple a few feet away. Ana kept the conversation flowing, asking me how I was liking Boston and about the party last night.

Apparantly, she was supposed to attend it too, but because her father and husband had some business to attend, she had skipped the party as well.

It seemed that we were not the only ones who had decided to stay at the mansion last night as there were a few Cross family relatives wandering around.

Even though it looked like the place was set up to have a breakfast party, with a buffet table served in one corner, the atmosphere felt too tensed to call it any kind of party. People were talking in hushed tones to each other, like they were afraid to speak any louder than a whisper.

Since I had already met most of them the night before, Ana led me straight to the other side of room, where a man stood next to the dining table that looked big enough to fit 15 people comfortably.

"This is my husband, Tristan. Tristan, this is Ruth Brooke," Ana introduced, as the tall, broad shouldered man turned to face us.

Where Ana looked like a bubbly, young girl, in her early 20s, her husband looked older, in both looks and manners.

Somewhere in his mid 30s, Tristan had with dirty blonde hairs with a few flecks of grays here and there, a subtle smile and guarded eyes. Even as I smiled and greeted him politely, I couldn't help but feel intimidated by his presence.

"Its nice to meet you, Ms. Brooke. We've heard so much about you these past few days." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. For some reason, I felt his look held some kind of knowledge, and it put me on the edge around him.

"Its nice to meet you too." I answered politely, and was trying to figure out what to say next, when a scathing voice spoke up from behind Tristan.

"So, you're the secretary, huh?" I jumped, both in surprise and at the use of his words. They hit too close to what my family used for me and I took an instant dislike to whoever this man was, before I had even laid eyes on him.

Tristan moved aside, revealing a shrunken, old man on a leather wheelchair. One of his hand was hooked to an IV, while another clutched the arm of his chair, like it hurt for him to even speak.

Still, he looked sharp as a hawk, his oddly familiar dark eyes snapping with arrogance as he looked me up and down, before dismissing me like he found me unworthy of his attention.

And suddenly, I knew why the room resembled a funeral home.

"The assistant, actually," Leo sidled up next to me, laying a palm onto my back, and I had never been more thankful for his presence.

"Hrump! Shit word play. What's the difference?"

I noticed Tristan lowering his eyes to the ground, and Ana shooting an apologetic smile at me, but neither tried to make any attempts to help me out of this.

I felt Leo sigh next to me and found him smiling indulgently at the old man before he winked reassuringly at me.

"The difference, dear uncle," he finally said, grabbing the wheelchair handles and stiring him towards the breakfast table, beckoning the rest of us to follow him.

"Is that she is not a personal assistant, but an office assistant. As such, she gets to contribute in certain decision making matters, instead of just fetching coffee," he continued, winking at me again.

Tristan snorted, before looking at me, "Ms. Brooke, this is Callahan Cross, my father in-law. And Callahan, she is—"

But Callahan interrupted him with a wave of his bony claw, "I know what she is, and who. The 'assistant' who does everything on a work trip except work."

"Excuse me?" The words were out of my mouth before I could think. But really, what the hell? Who did he think he was to talk like that about me?

"Oh, you are excused, girl. Why don't you make yourself useful for once and fetch your boss now? You know which room he's in, don't you?" His disdainful words made the hairs on my neck stand up.

"Dad, really there's—"

"Now, now, uncle, that's uncalled for—"

"I can just send someone or—"

Ana, Leo and Tristan all seemed to speak up at once, as if trying to deviate his vicious words away from me, but I wasn't paying attention on who got to complete their sentence.

The sound of blood roaring in my ear drowned all the other sounds as I felt heat rise in my face and tears threatened to slip out. I wasn't hurt, not at all. I was angry. Fire-spitting furious.

Mostly, I tried to be respectful to elderly people, especially the ones who were obviously sick. But in that moment, I couldn't care less if Callahan Cross was on death bed.

No one got to throw this shit at me. I noticed others looking at our group with wide eyes, before silently slipping out of the room, but I barely paid them any attention.

Cutting whoever it was that was speaking at that moment, I spoke up, "And why do you think you have any right to question what I do with my life and work? Who do you think you are to get to speak to me like this?"

My voice had gone shrill, but I couldn't care less. Years of ingrained manners dictated me to let it go quietly, but Callahan's unapologetic eyes and arrogance made it impossible for me to do so.

"Your questions itself shows your ignorance and lack of competence, dahlin'. I happen to have every right to question your work and personal ethics, especially when it involves my son."

That made me pause. Son? What the hell was he talking about? But before I could voice that thought, he noticed my confused expression and snorted in disgust.

"You have no clue, do you? I'm Callahan Cross. One of the senior Director of CrossRoads Softwares. Oh yeah, now you get it, don't ya?" He announced with triumph as he saw understand dawn on my face.

An evil smile curled on his brittle face as he continued, taking joy in each word as the colour drained off my face.

"I'm the guy who has taken over your insignificant, little software firm. I'm the new owner of the company that you are a meek assistant in. I'm your boss' new boss. And, I'm your boss'—"

Before he could finish his proclamation, another cold voice cut through the room, chilling me to my very bones.

"Father."