Bonds That Tie Us

Six

~Eric~

I felt like a damn fairytale character, trapped in a tower.

I wasn't bothered about being beaten every time I stepped foot outside. It was more so the marks and bruises that were often left behind.

I was certain Liana Hawthorn had looked right at the bruises, but decided it be wiser not to bring them up or question them. And I was grateful for her feigned obliviousness.

She never seemed to be afraid- never panicked, when she found me in odd situations.

And it worked to my advantage.

So I stayed inside, working on taxes, and paper work for a business I knew little about.

A mining and manufacturing company, named Davison's, after some old bastard, higher up in my Step Fathers bloodline.

My Step Fathers secretary often came to visit me in the estate, and although he was a stoic man, his presence was needed, or I'd lose my mind.

"You don't speak much." I say, as I watch Mr Hale wright silently onto the spreadsheet before him.

He wasn't old, to my surprise. Probably a year or so, older than myself

"Hmm." He doesn't look at me.

"And here I was, hoping we'd become friends, Mr Hale." I sigh, doing tricks with my pen.

I had cramp in my hand, and I was stalling with stupid chatter. It was working.

"Can I call you Harold?" I grin, as his pen halts over the parchment, and he lifts his head.

"No."

"Oh, come on Mr Hale. I'm not my Step Father," I assure him. "You can be yourself around me."

He doesn't look amused.

I kiss my teeth at the awkwardness.

"Alright. Nevermind." I mutter. "I'll remember how you took my kindness for granted."

He sighs.

"I appreciate your kindness sir. But we have much work to do." He explains. Probably the most I've heard him talk. "Perhaps you could come into the office tomorrow?"

I stare at him.

"That's ridiculous." I say.

He raises a brow.

"How so? You own the building. You should be able to work in your own office and see over your workers." Mr Hale goes on.

"If I wanted a lecture, I'd visit my Mother." I narrow my eyes as I turn my attention back to the document before me.

"I wasn't lecturing you." He says calmly. "I'm advising you. As a secretary, it is a requirement from me, to do as you ask."

"If I asked you to tap dance naked at town Square, would you?"

He chokes at that and I chuckle.

"No sir." He admits.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now let's get this over and done with." I say, and he nods, instantly working again. "And I'll consider you're suggestion, Harold."

He gives me frosty glare.

"Alright, my bad." I nod, because I had thought we had a moment. But clearly not.

I spent the rest of the day working, and meeting with inspectors who were still obsessing over how my Step Father had died. They wanted to find who had murdered him, naturally, but honestly, who cared? Whoever had done it, did us all a favour.