Chapter 12: Drawing lines

Laura’s POV:

From afar, it looked like nothing could penetrate my hard armour. But I was an artist; and an artist’s armour is full of bullets and cracks. That’s how the lyrics and notes seep through.

That’s what even made us what we were; artists.

I was staring at the bullet that had cracked half my armour out, and turned me this way.

Broken and acheing.

Jaxon Fallon. In all his basking glory and pride. He was draped in Wayfarers and a black hoodie, and was perched in a chair, busy scrawling away on some documents he was working on.

I tossed the jacket file on his desk. He stopped writing and arched his head up, his pale blue eyes rose to meet mine. Searching.

My breath caught in my throat. This was it.

He just stared at me, not saying a thing; but I could read through the lines of his forehead. His mouth formed into an unasked question.

I saved him the trouble.

“I’m breaking off my contract with the company.” I said. I had just finished rehearsals with my band. Ryan was waiting outside with the crew.

He slouched back into the chair in his home office, his hands reached for the file. He picked it up and flipped through the pages absentmindedly and scowling.

I watched him unperturbed.

He halted at a page, his thumb pressed down on the paper; he quirked an eyebrow at me.

Then back at the page. The scowl had slowly retreated. His eyes held a faint glint of interest.

He studied the page.

I studied him.

He arched his head up, to peek at me. Smirking.

“Your contract says you still have twelve more years with us.” He said slowly, his eyes studying mine; curiously.

“I know.” I snapped almost immediately, while silently cursing at the fleck of hair that fell weakly on a portion of his face.

He must have stayed up the whole night to gel it up.

“So why are you keen on terminating the contract?” He asked, suddenly smiling. Which only made him look nonchalant and flustered as ever.

His black hoodie hung limply to his broad shoulders; typical athletic build.

If he wasn’t Jaxon Fallon, he could have passed for an Olympian god. He had the demeanor and arrogance, alright.

And he was good-looking, rich and well built. His smile alone had everything in it to make any girl hold their breath until he walked past.

But all those didn’t work on me.

To me, he was still a shameless pervert and no matter how charming he looked or pretended to be, I wanted nothing to do with him.

Nothing, whatsoever. I couldn’t erase the picture of a drunk lurking in a corridor to ambush young and unsuspecting girls from my head.

“I have my personal reasons.” I replied, from the place I sat on the couch. His pale blue eyes locked into mine.

He slouched back in the chair again, watching me expectantly.

I said nothing more, just stared past him at a portrait that hung behind.

A painting of a black bird soaring against a strong wind. Its feathers were ruffled from the pressure and it looked as if it’d drop down any time soon. But that was the thing about the painting; the bird was just there, solidified in art, and wasn’t flying or falling.

Just there, like me.

“Reasons you can’t disclose?” His voice brought me back from my reverie. I tore my gaze from the picture to his. His eyes had darkened and his jaw looked tensed. The change was subtle, but it was there.

Just like that bird in that painting.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll have my lawyer notify you.” I added dryly.

It was time to leave.

I rose slowly from the chair, took two unhurried strides towards the door.

“Are you doing this because of me?” He asked suddenly.

I halted in my tracks. My breath hitched. The temperature in the room suddenly seemed to have been turned up to an even higher Celsius degree. Beads of sweat needled out of my skin, stretching all over my forehead and palm.

I turned around. Slowly, to meet his gaze.

His eyes were almost narrowed into slits, honing on me like I was a moving target. The rich playboy smile had disappeared from his face, his eyes were now defiant, staring hard at me. Seizing me up and demanding answers.

I sucked in a slow breath. Just enough to steady myself and get it all together.

I flashed my most charming-girl smile at him. “Do you think I would place you in so high esteem, sir?” I asked.

Truthfully, lying to myself. I wasn’t doing this for him. It was for my own sanity and mental health.

For my own sanity and mental health.

Not for him, it wasn’t for him.

But it was still because of him; that truth couldn’t be changed. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

He laughed, loudly and strange. Strange because the laugh had no ounce of humor. He slammed the file on the desk and rose up to his full height. Snuffing the air out of the room, in his cold and arrogant demeanor.

I took a deep breath. Sucking in his scent.

“Don’t start what you’re too scared to finish.” He said.

Was he daring me?

I chuckled softly, my mouth twitched.

Challenge accepted!

“I will finish this, Jaxon. And so will you.” I promised, flashing him a smile as cold as winter frost.

I wheeled about, and reached for the doorknob. Gripping it firmly in my hands and feeling the cold metal buried in my palm.

“You’re not going nowhere, Laura.” He gritted out firmly, his voice cutting through the room and trying to suck the life out of everything. “I don’t care what your reasons are.”

“You’re not going nowhere.” He repeated.

You can try!

“You’ll hear from my lawyers.” I said and pulled at the door. I stepped out of the room. Making sure to slam the door behind me. And taking comfort in the loud reverberation that pulsed through the walls and tingled at my eardrums.

“You can try to stop me!”

I felt a sudden surge of anger pour into me. Washing over me like a cold shower; tainting my whole features.

I was going to get my pound of flesh and I was going to claw out of his grasp. Forever!

My heels clicked angrily against the marble floor as I stormed down the hallway. Every step echoed like a war drum.

Ryan was leaning against the wall outside, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard me coming and straightened instantly.

“How did it go?”

“Exactly how I expected,” I muttered, not breaking stride. “He’s not letting go without a fight.”

Ryan fell into step beside me. “So we’re really doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

We reached the elevator. I jabbed the button harder than necessary. The doors slid open and I stepped inside, Ryan right behind me.

As the elevator descended, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls. I looked untouchable.

The doors opened to the underground garage, I was already pulling out my phone.

“Call the lawyers,” I told Ryan without looking at him. “Tell them I want every loophole, every clause, every possible way out. I don’t care what it costs.”

He nodded, already dialing.

I walked to my car, keys digging into my palm.

I was going to burn that contract to the ground, and if he tried to stand in my way, I’d burn him with it.

I slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles went white.

Jaxon Fallon had no idea what he’d just started.

But he was about to find out.