Max
“Her hair colour was different, lighter,” I said into the phone as I looked out of my office at Mia’s back. She was leaning over Yaz to help her with something on the computer but then had started laughing. Yaz could be a pain in the arse, but in that moment I had not one single regret about keeping her in the office. Anyone who could light up Mia’s face like that was worth their weight in gold.
Over the last month Mia had been laughing more. I don’t think I’d seen her crack even a small smile in the first few weeks I’d known her. The change had been gradual, but, compared to the woman she’d been back then, she was almost unrecognisable. She still wore barely any make-up, just a touch of mascara and occasional lip-gloss, but there were no longer dark circles under her eyes. The emo clothes had been replaced (I was not sad to see the back of her one and only pair of scuffed black shoes) by a lot of Yaz’s surfer stuff, but she had also bought some new items of her own. The rate limiting step of setting up a bank account had been resolved with HSBC, who had a scheme for people without permanent addresses. I offered for her to use my address but she’d flatly refused. In fact, after we slept together she informed me that she felt like she was taking advantage of me. Her taking advantage of me! As if I wasn’t wracked with guilt that it was the other way around. Once her bank account was set up she decided she should move out, but before she could look for somewhere to stay Yaz had offered her a spare room at her flat. Her friend Dee had moved out and she needed the money. I’d helped Mia move in last weekend.
To be honest I would have preferred to keep her at my house, but I knew that really would have been taking advantage and I didn’t want to stifle her growing confidence. She was coming to realise how important she was to the company, that she did have value to add in meetings, and that people respected her. Outside of work I could tell she still struggled to square away how people saw her and how she saw herself. It helped that Yaz and Verity were persistent friends. Beyond what Yaz shared after the hairdresser incident I wasn’t sure how much they knew, but I’d caught each of them looking at Mia in that careful way more than once – watchful, concerned. Yes, they knew a fair amount, maybe even more than me, but I didn’t want to betray Mia’s confidence to ascertain what. Because in the bid to win Mia’s trust, I knew I had to tred very carefully.
Physically, things were amazing between us. We couldn’t get enough of each other. She was like a fever in my veins – I wanted her constantly, thought about her incessantly. When I was with her I couldn’t stop touching her – holding her hand, resting my hand on the small of her back, pulling her into my side, kissing her temple, tucking her short, soft hair behind her pixie ears.
“It’s the same deal as your thumbs. How do these things even work?” I’d teased her last night after I’d nuzzled the shell of her tiny ear. “They’re ridiculous, Number Five.”
“Just cause I don’t sport giant elephant ears there’s no need to be a cheeky bugger. I can hear out of these bad boys just as well, if not better, than you can out of your oversized face flappers.”
“Right, that’s it,” I’d growled, moving on top of her in the bed and rubbing my ear against her mouth. “Lick the normal sized ear lobe and accept the superior hearing.” I’d tickled her until she given in and declared my hearing superior and my ears perfect, manly specimens.
The fact she felt confident enough to tease me, that there was no flicker of fear even when I’d held her down to tickle her, said something about how far she’d come. The sex that followed was completely uninhibited – wild and hard and totally out of both of our control. After I’d finished and realised that I hadn’t exhibited the normal restraint I used with her – my normal tenderness and caution, I had frozen with my head buried in her neck, waiting for her to stiffen with fear. But she’d been like liquid in my arms. When I’d pulled back to look at her face there was no trace of anxiety. Only a goofy half-smile and a soft, sated look in her eyes.
“Wow,” she’d breathed into my mouth. “You’re pretty good at that.”
I’d rested my forehead against hers and let out a long exhale, beyond relieved that I hadn’t pushed her too far and terrified her. From that moment it was clear to me that, in the bedroom at least, she trusted me. It was outside the bedroom where her walls were still up, hence my phone call to the private investigator. I was giving her time and space to let me into all her secrets, but I knew she was still scared. Still watchful. I justified the invasion into her privacy as a measure to secure her safety.
I’d researched domestic violence and emotional and physical abuse since Mia had revealed that glimpse into her past. I knew that an abusive person was at their most dangerous when they felt that their victim was slipping from their control, and Mia was most definitely not in that arsehole’s control any more. So yes, I could justify it with concern for her safety … but I also knew that wasn’t the only reason. The pure, unadulterated rage boiling inside me when I thought of someone hurting her was almost overwhelming. I needed to know who this bastard was and I needed him to pay for what he’d done to Mia. She said no police, and I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. Something else had happened. Something that made her ashamed – fearful of my reaction. Sometimes I could see indecision flicker over her features as she hesitated before speaking.
She was deciding whether to trust me with the whole truth.
But I knew it would be a while before she did. She was only just starting to trust me with small truths – her favourite takeaway for example. That information had taken Teddy and I over an hour to obtain. At first Teddy had just thrown his curry order at me from his position at the computer with Mia, who was helping him code for his latest school assignment. I’d told him he was a selfish brat and maybe he should check with Mia what she wants before he barked out his requests. Teddy had rolled his eyes, but when Mia jumped in saying she didn’t mind what we ordered – that we shouldn’t feel like we had to include her anyway, that she was probably imposing and should go back to Yaz’s, that Teddy probably needed his space etc etc – Teddy then stopped coding and narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth setting into a familiar, stubborn line.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he’d told her. “How can you be imposing when you’ve saved my arse with this computer bollocks? Max likes you here – he’s less of a grumpy bastard with you around. You should stay.” When she agreed to stay but insisted curry was “fine” it was like she’d laid down a personal challenge to Teddy. After much wheedling and the equivalent of the Spanish inquisition she’d finally admitted that Thai food was, in fact, her favourite.
So yes, she was getting there with the trust, but it was slow work and I needed results just that bit quicker.
“Her first name is Amelia,” I told the Sam Clifton, the boss of the security firm I’d hired to dig up Mia’s past. When I’d originally contacted him two weeks ago, he’d told me he didn’t have any space in their schedule for another case. That didn’t surprise me – he came highly recommended for a reason. But then I told him her story. Mr Clifton found space after that conversation. In fact, he took on the case himself. But without her real name he’d been getting nowhere. “I’m still not sure of her surname but I do know that her husband owns or is CEO of a large company. She worked for him and she’s something of a computer genius.”
“Right, noted,” Sam’s deep voice sounded in my ear. “On it.” He disconnected. I had noticed that with Sam he didn’t waste words unless completely necessary. I lowered the phone and watched as Mia rounded the desk, still laughing. She caught my eye as she sat down. Unlike before when she would duck her head and wipe any expression off her face when our gazes had met, now her smile actually grew, her eyes danced and a light blush spread to her cheeks.
Yes, I was getting somewhere.
At least, that’s what I thought.
