Sugar Baby Âœ”ϸ fourteenth: push

I rose to my feet, walking towards the sink. I washed my face, gazing at my bare body. The marks he had made. I had the sudden urge to rip my skin off. But that wouldn’t change the person I was. The repulsive, hateful man I had become.

I walked back into the bedroom and dressed. I still had to wait for an hour. After everything I had done. I had to go through another sixty minutes.

I made my way out into the hall and ran up the staircase. The mansion seemed to be deserted. From my research, I knew that Reznick had had a slew of unsuccessful marriages. He now apparently invested time in spirituality. Which of course, was clearly untrue from his highly feral acts in the bedroom.

I reached a large wooden door, opening it and finding myself in a study. There was a computer set up on a table in front of me. A few shelves with sheaves of paper. I entered and shut the door behind me. The one positive thing about Reznick was that he didn’t lock his computer rooms and even sometimes gadgets. He was well known for his notoriously short memory. He lived alone, and I hoped he didn’t keep his bank statements locked.

I was mistaken, however. All the shelves were shut tight. The few open ones had useless pieces of articles.

I groaned in frustration. I gazed around the room. It was a cluttered office space. There was a pile of documents on the table and a paper shredder on the table beside it. I crouched and started looking through the waste paper dustbin. I needed to find any proof of his bank statements. Any of the five accounts that were not known to the public but he had admitted to me in a state of lust.

There were what looked like hundreds of balled up bank statements. I tried to go through them as quickly as possible, my stomach clenched in anxiety. I knew Reznick would be out till morning, but it was getting harder and harder for me to stay there. Each breath felt like sand rolling down to my lungs.

Most of the statements that I got were from well-known banks. A few were from ones that I had never heard about, but a quick search told me that they were major banks that were simply not as good at advertising as the other ones.

It took me forty minutes to finally find three statements that were related to three different smaller banks. They were rather obscure and hence suspicious to me. I checked the dates on them which were almost a week ago.

Reznick’s haphazardness had favoured me. There were still a few statements left to go through and my eyes caught on one in particular. Comparing two statements, I saw that they were interrelated. One of them was from a major bank. Matching the account numbers, I could tell that Reznick had transferred money from his own account in one of the bigger banks to another account in the smaller banks.

It made no sense to me. What was he trying to achieve? To balance out the money? For tax fraud? That could have been a possible reason if all the accounts hadn’t been under his name which would nullify any attempts at income tax fraud. I took the statements and clicked a picture. I would carry the hard copy of them back as well, but just to be safe, I liked to have a backup.

After making sure everything looked as pristinely dirty as it was before, I rushed out of the room and ran straight downstairs. My heart hammered painfully. I hoped whatever evidence I had obtained, would be worth it. I ran down the staircase, stopping dead in my tracks when my eyes fell on a massive photo framed on the wall. A smiling Reznick stared at me, a huge certificate in his hand. At the top of the frame, a few words were written-

Highest donator. Thank you for being our hero!

A smiling woman was handing the certificate to him. Scrawled on it were the words, ‘Tender Heart Social Institution.’

I didn’t know that Reznick was into charity. I knew of a few major ones that he had been sure to advertise but nothing about a Tender Hearts Institution. It was unlikely that a man like him would be so noble as to not reveal his charity work.

I sighed. I had to make sure. This had to be a major link.

My heart sank as I made my way back upstairs, looking for a specific statement that would prove his donations to the institution. I searched through the shredder. The waste bin. The files on his desk. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a file labelled ‘Charity.’

Clearly, subtlety was not one of his strong suits.

Quickly, I went over the statements. Finding the link to Tender Hearts at the very end. I gazed at the several transactions that had been made. Each in the six figures. My eyes stopped on a familiar number and I pulled out the photo of the account statements in my phone.

All the donations to this particular charity had been made only through the smaller, obscure banks.

I clicked a photo of the document and put it back in place, running back downstairs. Just when I reached the front porch, my phone vibrated again. I picked it up and sighed in relief at the sound of Grayson’s voice.

“I’m here in front of the house. Where are you?”

“In a minute,” I spoke breathlessly and started sprinting towards the gate. In my hurry I tripped, falling painfully on the hard ground. Pain shot up my elbow from where I had fallen on it. I got to my knees, wincing in agony. I had scratched myself, the expensive suit torn to shreds near my elbow. I scrambled to my feet and resumed my sprint, even more eager to get out.

The guards thankfully didn’t ask anything, having already seen me enter a few hours back. 

I saw Grayson’s familiar hatchback and my heart fluttered rapidly as if trying to escape. I made my way over to it, relief flooding through me as I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. He revved up the engine without a word, occasionally shooting me silent glances as we started on our way.

Now that I was with him, I was feeling much safer. My erratic heart gradually slowing down.

“I think Reznick has been sending the money he receives from Atkinson to a different bank account. And that money is sent to this charity. Which seems strange. Why doesn’t he use his original account? Why doesn’t Rosalie just donate directly to the charity?”

“What charity is this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow without looking at me. 

“Tender Hearts Social Institution,” I said. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Grayson was quiet for a while, as if deep in thought. His jaw was set when he spoke, “I’ll look into it.” 

Before I could respond, he parked the car on the side of the road, much to my surprise. It was dark and the road was empty. He turned to me, his eyes cataclysmically dark. My heart fluttered as he placed his hand under my chin, gently stroking his thumb on my bottom lip.

“Are you okay?”

I almost broke at his kindness. His soft, caressing touch. I managed to nod, instinctively moving closer to him. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded. In all honesty, all my fear had vanished the moment I was close to him.

“You sounded really weird on the phone. And-” his eyes travelled to my arm, his brows furrowing slightly, “-you’re hurt.”

I was quiet, gazing at him intently. His green eyes sparkled alluringly under the reflected street light.

“I tripped and fell,” I said, rushing into the next question. “How was your date?” I asked, my stomach clenching nervously. I didn’t want to dwell on Antonio.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t a date. You should apply something on there. It looks bad.”

“Okay.”

I reached into my pocket and handed him the evidence I had collected. “I found this in the waste paper basket. So I’m positive he won’t notice it’s gone.”

“You did a great job, Xavier,” he said, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

I nodded, tearing my eyes away from him. “Are you going to see her again?”

I wasn’t sure if I was in the place to ask him a question like that. But I wanted to know. I needed to know.

His voice was measured when he answered. “No. I don’t want to lead her on.”

I sighed softly in relief. Even though it made no sense. I gazed at him, all my strength ebbing. My body still tingled with Reznick’s touch and I needed to forget the disgust. Needed to feel something else. Anything else.

I didn’t stop to rationalize. I moved closer to him and climbed on top of him, straddling him. I kissed him deeply, knotting my fingers in his hair. Holding him close. I kissed him hungrily as if trying to memorize his soft texture. As if trying to replace all the other touches on me. I sucked on his bottom lip gently, yearning to melt into his heavenly warmth. The comfort of his arms around me. Him. 

“Gray…” I whispered, my heart racing. “Let me…”

I didn’t know what I wanted. His admiration. His kindness towards me. His touch. His body. I wanted all of it. Every single inch of him and his beautiful heart.

He didn’t react. His hands still. His lips frozen.

“Gray?” I whispered, trailing my mouth to his jaw. “Gray?” I repeated. Chanting his name again and again like a prayer. Coaxing him. I nibbled his earlobe, letting my tongue trace gently. Leaving a tantalizing trail down to his neck. I grinded on him slowly. His lack of reaction made my chest emptier still. “Gray?”

“Let’s get you home, Xavier,” he spoke, his voice guarded.

I stopped. Leaning back to look at him. His jaw was clenched, no hint of the sparkle in his eyes. My heart sank. Desperation to be touched clawed at my insides. I hated myself. Did he too?

“Did I do…something wrong?”

He looked at me, his face impassive. His eyes unreadable. “I should never have kissed you, Xavier. It was a mistake. I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”

I stared at him, lead filling my insides. I trudged on like a relentless fool. “I bet I could change it,” I whispered breathlessly and leaned into him again, kissing his neck. Sucking. Licking. Praying that he would react. Touch me. Hold me like he wasn’t repulsed by me. “Gray?”

I was pleading now and I hated it. But all my pride, all my ego turned to nothing in front of him. “Gray… Please. Just…give me a chance. I’ll-“

“You can’t make someone have feelings for you, Xavier.”

“I can,” I whispered like a moron, begging now. “Just…just give me one chance. I’ll prove it-“

He pushed me back gently but firmly. My heart wrenched in agony as he gazed at me. “I’m not one of your clients or projects, Xavier. You can’t make me feel for you when I don’t.”

Something inside me broke.

“You’re brilliant and I respect you for that. But that’s it. I don’t want you that way. I’m sorry if I led you on.”

I suddenly felt naked. Crippling shame tingling each cell of my body. I wished I could disappear and never see him again. I dismounted from him and took my seat on the passenger side. Pressing myself as close to the door as I could. I couldn’t bear to look at him. I had been hurt physically many times before. But never had anything crushed me like his words.

Did he really think I thought of him as a ‘client’? Did he really think my feelings were that fickle?

I felt like frozen claws were squeezing my heart. A solid silence fell as he revved up the engine and started the car. We reached my apartment and I opened the door before he even fully stopped the car. I stumbled out of it, slamming the door shut behind me. I ran to my apartment, not stopping until I reached my bathroom. I turned on the shower and stood under it. Trying to clean more than just my skin. 

A/N: Xavier is close to busting Rosalie’s business with this new link. Where will it lead?
This was heartbreaking in every way. The moments between Grayson and Xavier are hard to write because of Xavier’s past and his crippling insecurities. Why is Grayson behaving this way? Does he actually not love Xavier? Or is there something more? Will Xavier be able to take this blow? Or is this the final straw?
Please do remember to vote and comment 🙂
And do hold on tightly to your hearts <3