Chapter 8

There's something I know I'm very poor at, it is not keeping a secret, neither is it cooking very great meals, nor being a mother figure to Lexi, it is struggling to keep up the pretence that all is well.

All isn't well if Patricia is here with my boss, Noah. They seem cordial, so it's either they're friends or have found solace in one another. After all, they've both been so close to walking down the isle; they have something significant in common.

I perceive Patricia to be a desperate person and so is Noah, undoubtedly. Well, if this is a newly found friendship, I hope it doesn't last, or I'd just be waltzed right into an even hotter oven. The ex of my new boss must not be a friend of my main boss.

I'm dying of curiosity, but I'm also patiently waiting for her to take her leave so I can get this over with. I avoid eye contact throughout, and to my amazement, she doesn't try to confront me about earlier.

Noah, eyes on me, tells Patricia he'd see her off to her car. I scoff and recline on the wall as I wait for him to return.

The door flies open and hits the adjacent wall, causing me to spring off the wall and walk straight to the door as I see Noah taking slow stiff gait in. "You two know each other?" I ask Noah, who still has his lips laced with a toothless grin as he strolls in. "How come you left out something so important? This whole thing could fall to nothing if you keep things like this from me."

I'm being so serious and he busy making funny faces and mimicking me. "Look who's throwing a tantrum," he yells subtly. "I heard about your little email." His eyes threaten me as he says the email. And it is kind of making sense to me now. "That wasn't what we agreed on, Anderson." He takes a step to me and I take two backwards.

I stammer. "You're not letting me do my job."

"Fuck. Your. Job." He snaps. My eyes flap as I stare at him in awe, wondering where this is coming from. Then he starts with a blaring tone. "That man!" It's almost as if he regrets how he yell, he lowers it immediately. "...That man isn't who you think he is. He's a monster. I warned you about him, didn't I?"

I'm mute. I bite the insides of my cheek and shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about. In two weeks, I still haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary about him."

He rests his back on the wall and folds his arms over his chest, taking a slow deep breath in and forcing it back out. "To answer your question..." His voice is almost inaudible. "...Patricia and I are friends. And I've been dedicated to helping and protecting her."

"From what?" I ask. Even in my befuddled state, I know this means trouble.

The corner of his mouth curls up when he says, "Lance Haven. He's an abuser!"

My saliva suddenly feels like stone and isn't going down my throat no matter how hard I swallow. I didn't expect this to come out of Noah's mouth. It's one thing to send me on a mission to look for secrets we're not even sure exist. It's another thing to allege something like this.

If I'm to judge Lance by the way he treated Patricia earlier, then this may be true. But Lance, on the other hand, looks completely harmless.

"Is that the story?" I'm utterly confused. "If that's it, then why's Patricia not reporting it to the police directly." I, too, fold my arm over my chest. "This is some serious accusation, she could get sued!"

"Wake up! Anderson. Has he brain washed you too? Because you're sure acting like obsessed Patricia."

"Oh, you're agreeing she's unwell? That's exciting to know. Did she tell you why I responded to her mail, about the tons of emails she was sending to an official mail?"

Noah snorts. "That's he's done to her. I can't believe you of all people would say this. Have you even been keeping tabs on the Rape Report Program?" He runs his hand through his curls. "Have you heard all the stories and how they became obsessed with their abusers?"

In all honesty, I'm completely disgusted by this. "Patricia doesn't seem like that kind of woman to me."

"Because she's hot, stunning and from a rich background? Trauma isn't for a set of people alone," he lectures. "Let's backtrack a little." He steps away from the wall but he doesn't walk to me. "Haven's first public relationship, can you remember Harley?"

I swallow hard, recollecting that story. I wasn't a journalist then but it was all over the blog that he mistreated her. "It wasn't abuse, Noah."

"Physical and emotional abuse are both types of abuse. Are you suddenly defending him? I thought you were part of the people that condemned him for it then?" His brows arch. "Cause I remember that conversation vividly. It was you, your dad and myself in your living room."

"I was twenty one, what did I know?" I retort.

"Okay, okay, okay. For a second, let's believe that," he shakes his head pitifully. "So what about the next woman that was in his life? How about the one after that?" He stops to get a reaction from me but I give none. I'm completely mute. "There's a pattern that you must see." He carries on, "These women, from vibrant women, end up being so insignificant after he enters their life. He's like a plaque."

How dumb is Noah?

"You're not even seeing how brainwashed you've become. In just two weeks." He makes emphasis. "May I remind you you're left with five days to provide me with what I want. Otherwise, you're out of Saint Havens and out of the Capitol!" He turns around to leave me but stops. "Make this end with Patty. Be the determining factor." Then he storms out, banging the door harder than necessary that it jerks me roughly.

I leave the Capitol feeling one thing; exhausted. Tired of being a journalist. Tired of being Lance's secretary. Tired of living.