Chapter 6 6. Shadows of the past

BENJAMIN'S POV

The garage doors slowly clasped into place behind me, stifling the heavy patters of rain on the asphalt, but I chose to remain in the car. My hands still gripped the wheel tightly, the leather crackling under my fingers. I was still plagued by the memories of what had happened today—the water pooling on the passenger's seat hadn't even dried yet.

That particular night with Oliver had been one moment of loose thinking, a single "fuck it" decision that led me to saunter into that bar. Now, that very decision haunted me like a ghoul. I can't fully describe how I felt the exact moment I recognized the boy sitting across from me, but when I did, my heart sank to the base of my chest.

I could have sworn Oliver was there to blackmail me for more money. If he was working in a place like that, then he definitely needed it.

My throat dried instantly, and a flicker of recognition scurried past my eyes before I forced my mask into place, pretending I didn’t remember him. But I had seen it too—I had seen that glimmer of recognition in Oliver’s—or was his name really Oliver?—eyes.

I wanted nothing more than to slam the button beneath my desk, signaling security to drag him out. But that kind of attention would warrant an explanation, and worse still, if he started spilling everything we had done, thrashing like a prepubescent teenager, I could only imagine the damage it would cause.

The imaginary scenario sent ripples of shivers along my spine. I had prayed that somehow, after that night of letting loose, I wouldn't see him again—that I wouldn’t be reminded of that side of myself. I had a reputation to protect.

But fate is a cruel bitch who loves to stab you at your lowest.

For some reason, I thought I would have time to prepare myself before the next day, to seal my mind before I had to see him again. But my car just had to break down, and fate had to make Oliver walk that path.

The rain had intensified as if in response to my sour mood on seeing Oliver standing by the curb. I had been determined to leave him standing there after he fixed the car, but what kind of person would I be?

I had assumed Oliver would have some dignity, or at least enough shame not to bring up the subject again. But that’s when the senseless boy tried to remind me of that night. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to reach over and slam his head against the dashboard until he couldn’t remember a thing.

I had to be firm with him. I was prepared to end his career before he even had the chance to take his first step into the workforce if he so much as spilled a word.

Exhaling, I finally relaxed my knuckles from their vice-like grip on the leather. I reached for the door and pushed it open, the car locking automatically as I slammed it shut. Having Oliver in the company meant carrying that uncertainty with me—the constant fear that he could open his big mouth and spew his secrets to anyone willing to listen.

Anxiety gnawed at me like a cat scratching at a back door, and I hated it.

As much as he was a smart fellow and the perfect fit for the job, I didn’t see Oliver working there long-term. I couldn’t come to work every day and bear the shame of staring at him, remembering how lewd he had been, how easily he had submitted to me like… I sighed, flinging my briefcase onto the kitchen island.

The lights twinkled as I entered and made my way to the fridge.

“I need to do something about him,” I muttered, ripping the top off a water bottle and chugging the contents down. As soon as the last drop hit my tongue, an idea popped into my head.

Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my phone, scanned through my contacts, and dialed the manager’s line. It rang once before it crackled and connected.

“Hello?” The fatigued voice of the manager filled my ears. Was he still at work? Flicking my wrist, I checked the time—8:07 PM. He was probably stuck in the office because of the storm.

“Oliver… Oliver Sallow.” My voice was crisp and sharp. I didn’t say much after the name.

“Yes, sir, I’ve processed his internship like you requested.”

“Good, but after the internship, terminate his appointment.”

There was a bout of silence, then an awkward shuffle.

“Sir?” The manager called, almost as if he hadn’t heard what I had just said.

I rolled my eyes. The man was pushing fifty, and I had kept finding reasons to keep him around, but his lack of comprehension was quickly making the list of reasons to fire him.

“I said, when the internship is over, don’t give him the job.”

“Uhm… sir, I don’t mean to overstep, but frankly, he was one of the best candidates you interviewed today. His portfolio fits the profile we’ve been searching for.”

I could practically hear the manager’s smile through the phone like he was proud father who was advertising his golden son.

“Last I checked, I give the orders around here, and what I say goes,” I replied coldly, irritation creeping into my voice.

“I—I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, his words stumbling out like he had lost the ability to communicate.

I wasn’t in the mood to hear him try to remind me of company policies. Pulling the phone from my ear, I ended the call and shoved it back into my pocket.

I had to get rid of Oliver before it was too late, and I was ready to do whatever it took.

I didn't want to spend the storm alone, I needed some sort of distraction and the first person that came to mine was Diane. I fingered my phone and pressed Diane's contact.

“Hello, Handsome,” her sultry voice filtered through the phone.

“Be here in the next twenty minutes, storm or not.”