Time Sensitive Target

Part 51 - Impulsive Mistake

"Do what?" I raised my voice a little, a ball of rage stirring in my belly. "Why is it a bad idea?"

"You don't want to work for the agency," Jase shook his head ambiguously, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"What if I do? Do you know what a good opportunity that is for me? And what business is it of yours to decide whether or not it's a good idea?" I quizzed hotly, feeling redness rise to my skin in a flush of anger and frustration.

"It's my business because I'm assigned to keep you safe, working with the agency could be counter productive to that," Jase spoke slowly in a lazy, bored tone.

"The agency are the ones that assigned you to that position! If they thought it was unsafe for whatever reason then why would Lorres ask me to join?" I pressed, knowing he was hiding some conspiracy he refused to admit out loud. "Or is this all because if I take that job you'll have to find someone else to torment?"

Jase stood still for a pregnant pause, the silence my words had induced flooding the room with discomfort. He tapped his finger against his hip softly and pressed his lips together in decision.

"I'm going to the gym," he declared quietly, swishing past me without a second glance and letting the door slam shut behind him. I wasn't surprised by his unwillingness to have an actual discussion with me like a grown up, but his walk out was unexpected. I stood in the same spot for some time, stunned by his sudden abandonment, until I realised that without him, I had the freedom to leave without fear of being stopped- but you need to be quick...

I got ready with impressive speed, choosing the same white dress I'd worn to the first lunch with Rob and Ant in the city but adding a heeled sandal for a dressier effect. I applied light lashings of makeup to my face, wanting impulsively to look attractive and put together rather than the unassuming attention phobic style I usually went for. I pulled my hair out of the pony tail, soft dark waves cascading and accentuating the simple but effective appearance I'd constructed. I looked nice, I felt nice. People will look.

Before I gave myself time to chicken out I scrawled another note and left it next to the kettle, somewhere Jase wouldn't immediately venture to. I closed my bedroom door, so when he returned he'd probably think I was holed up behind it. With a second glance back to the precautions I'd taken, I left.

I needed to use the car; I had a spare key fob "in case of any emergencies" and had driven it before, after all. I didn't fancy the idea of a taxi with some unknown stranger, and by taking it I could slow Jase down if he did decide to come after me. There were no obstacles standing in the way now of me going- only my fear of the repercussions. There's nothing he can do to you that he hasn't already done.

I filtered towards the bridge in the slow torrent of evening traffic, giddy on a high of disbelief. Sure, I'd been cautiously rebellious before, but never to this extent. Jase would be furious, but I wasn't entirely sure I cared. It hit me then, stuck in the cortege of vehicles. The moment Jase had slammed the door I barely allowed myself a moment to digest the fact that he'd actually left. Why is that bothering you so much? It was some hideous side effect of living under his clutches in the strange control dynamic. I resented him, feared him, hated him, and he'd become the constant in my life without which I felt perilously unstable. It was one thing for me to evade him, to pull away from his oppressive regime. But was there a part of me that did it in the comfort of knowing he would be there when I returned?

The car snaked across the bridge and on to the island, curling towards Third Street until I turned right and headed for the view of the sea and the San Diego skyline beyond it. The few restaurants and bars along here were spilling out into the sidewalk, abundant outdoor seating and crowds of friends meeting and greeting adorning the concrete. With luck a parking spot grabbed my attention only three buildings from the bar and I swerved in, stopping the engine and levelling myself for a moment. You can just leave if you don't like it. Marlene would be there, and she was so maternal I found it hard to believe I would ever feel uncomfortable around her. I knew the other women, they worked as secretaries or clerks in other offices in the building, popping in every now and then to share gossip or baked goods. All you have to do is walk in, and then you're there. So I did.