The Origin Of Rezso Ch 06

"Your secret is safe with me."

Allison's words tickled my ear, and I froze. We hadn't discussed my audios at all, and the sudden reference caught me off guard. I hugged her close to me and lingered a little longer in a conscious effort to conceal my shock. When I was sure that my poker face was in order, I stepped back and studied hers.

Where I anticipated malice, there was none--only heartache and dejected adoration.

"Thank you," I nodded, grabbing her hand and kissing the back.

Tears welled up in her eyes when I let it drop, and she bit the edge of her lip.

"I...I really did..." she hesitated, searching for the right words, "want this to work."

"I did, too."

"Did you?" she said, eyes narrowing more in hurt than anger.

"I wouldn't have pursued it otherwise."

Her eyes squeezed closed, and her head dropped. I realized too late that she

wanted

me to say it was merely a distraction that we didn't stand a chance. And, maybe we didn't, but I didn't know that at the outset.

I took a step toward her, hand outstretched, but she stepped back and shook her head.

"You don't get to pity me when you're the one who broke my heart."

With that, Allison turned toward the door and paused to compose herself. Then, she threw back her shoulders like a peacock fanning its feathers.

"Goodbye, Andy," she said, as she strutted through the door, leaving me in her past.

A mix of relief and regret shrouded me. This was not the explosive breakup I expected, but it was almost more frightening. The chill that fell over our last moments, coupled with her knowledge about my audios, threatened everything I'd worked to accomplish. Even with the "promise" she'd made, I couldn't be 100% sure she wouldn't out me.

All of that was nothing compared to the information I had--or thought I had--about Oliver. If it was true, I had a giant decision to make.

I scrambled to locate my phone. When I found it, there were four messages from Luke, and two missed calls; all received since I was thrown out of his wife's swanky, sex party.

What the fuck, man?

Vanessa is pissed.

I don't know what's going on with you, but give me a call when you get this.

We're worried about you. If I don't hear from you, I'm calling mom.

I rolled my eyes. What the fuck was our mother going to do? Ground me?

Wanting to avoid any further messages or calls, I typed a quick message back.

I can't explain right now. I'll give you a call tomorrow.

Next, I scrolled to Beth's messages and started typing.

Are you around?

It took literal seconds for her to reply.

Around where?

I could almost hear her teasing me and smirked.

Me: Excuse the vagueness. Are you able to work tonight?

Beth: Yes, but aren't you at that fancy sex party?

Me: Not anymore. I need your help with something. Can you meet me at the penthouse?

Beth: Sure. Be there in 30.

I made it back to my penthouse in less than 15 minutes. At almost 30 minutes to the second, the front desk buzzed. When the elevator doors opened, Beth shuffled out, entombed in a giant, black puffer jacket, which she started removing before she made it into the living room.

I was aghast at how she looked. In all our years together, I had never seen her in anything except business attire. Yet, here she stood in oversized sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt with most of the writing missing.

She saw me looking her over and said, "What? You wanted me here fast."

I nodded and chuckled.

"It's just not what I'm used to, that's all."

"Well, I'm not used to getting cryptic messages from my boss in the middle of the night, so we're both growing, aren't we?"

Her tone indicated she was both intrigued and irritated. She stared at me, one hand on her hip, waiting for me to fill her in.

I dropped my head and grimaced. "Doing the right thing"--a burden Kylie cursed me with--weighed heavily. Choosing the path of integrity all but ensured the end of my career as I knew it. I was also keenly aware that involving Beth meant risking her career, too.

"I figured out who assaulted Kylie," I said, then hesitated.

Beth sighed and motion for me to continue.

I raised my hand to stop her from saying any more.

"Before I tell you, I need you to know that if we pursue any form of justice, it's likely that we will both lose our jobs. Maybe even leave in disgrace."

Beth lowered her eyebrows and attempted to discern the answer from my expression. All I could do was stare back gravely.

"It's that bad?" she asked, her voice echoing an uncharacteristic solemness. I stared into her eyes and nodded, turning away and running a hand through my hair.

"Who?" she said, taking a few steps toward me.

"If I tell you, you're in it, Beth."

"Goddammit, Andy. I'm in it already! Who is it?"

"Oliver! It's fucking Oliver Lockhart."

Beth staggered backward as if the word had struck her squarely in the gut.

"What?" she gasped.

"I'm almost certain. I knew I'd seen Kylie before but couldn't place her. At first, I just thought it was because we ran in the same social circles. But, tonight, Oliver was there and did something that triggered the memory."

"What did you do?" Beth said, her eyes getting wider by the second.

I cocked my head to the side and squinted.

"You didn't?" she said, taking another step closer.

"Didn't what?"

"You know what I'm asking, Andrew."

"I...I went after him," I said, throwing my hands up. "It was all so clear that I couldn't stop myself."

"Shit, now he knows we know."

I hadn't thought about that, but she was exactly right. My rashness undoubtedly raised Oliver's suspicion.

"Do you still want to be a part of this?"

"Hell, yeah. That little shit needs to face the music."

"I don't think it'll be that simple."

"Of course, it won't."

"And, there's no guarantee that he'll face any justice at all."

Beth was silent for a few minutes before she slowly started to speak.

She dropped her head and said, "When I started my career as a secretary, that's what we called them way back then, I was working late one night. I left my desk to make copies, and when I came back, Byron's brother was waiting for me."

I looked at her in horror, fists balled and jaw tight. She saw me respond and raised her hands to soften my concern.

"No, no. I was lucky. He backed me into a corner, but the janitor came in to collect the trash and interrupted. But, there's no doubt in my mind that he would've done something to me."

Her face carried a shadow of the same terror and helplessness as Kylie's. I tried to think of something to console her but couldn't find the words.

Beth swallowed hard and gave out a rueful laugh.

"That son of a bitch has been dead for a decade, but it still feels like it happened yesterday. So, am I in? You're goddamned right, I am."

I nodded.

"Alright, let's get to work," I said, gesturing for Beth to sit at the dining room table.

Beth fumbled through her bag and pulled out a laptop and a thick file.

When I gave her a quizzical look, she said, "It's the info on Kylie. I just assumed this middle-of-the-night meeting had something to do with it."

I gave her a quick nod and sat down next to her. We spent the next 45 minutes combing through everything in the file, including copious numbers of Kylie's selfies. She took daily photos until right before Thanksgiving when the photos abruptly stopped.

"That's odd," Beth said. "Holidays are usually when those girls take the most pictures. They want to show off their tropical excursions or the earrings their boyfriend bought them."

I thought about it for a minute and said, " Excellent point. Let's check out her friends' social media. But first, pull up Oliver's accounts, too."

Beth clicked away on her keyboard and reviewed Oliver's posts. Nothing. Oddly, the same period was missing from his posts, as well. Beth moved on to their mutual friends and stopped.

"You probably want to look at this." She turned the screen to face me, and I leaned in to get a better look.

I shook my head at the picture. It was dark and a little blurry, but it was obviously a picture of Kylie and Oliver. They were both laughing. In stark contrast to Kylie's well-curated and impeccable social media presence, this picture was candid and unrefined. She was drunk, her leg thrown across Oliver's lap and his hand on the inside of her thigh.

They were dressed for an upscale event--the Christmas party. She was wearing the same gown that night. Oliver had on a suit, his tie removed, and top shirt buttons were undone.

"I knew it."

"This doesn't prove anything," Beth cautioned.

"Look at the comments."

The first few were innocuous, teasing the couple about their inebriated antics. Some even noted what a fantastic couple they made. Toward the bottom, there were several deleted comments, but the responses were still visible. Most were recent.

She didn't seem to mind him grabbing her before.

Ky, you look pretty relaxed here, girl.

Another person responded:

Fuck you. That doesn't mean he can assault her.

#oliverlockhartisarapist

Beth's sat motionless and stunned.

"It's him," she whispered.

Silence shrouded the room as we struggled to absorb the information. My phone jolted us back to the present.

Allison.

I picked up and heard Allison's voice, her words a barrage of expletives.

"Allison, hang up the phone. Call me tomorrow when you're sober."

"Fuck you! You can't tell me what to do anymore."

Suddenly, it occurred to me that she might be with Oliver.

"Allison, where are you?"

"I'm with your brother and Vanessa. You could be here too if you weren't such an asshole."

At that, my brother jerked the phone out of her hand.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't realize she was calling you."

In the background, I heard Allison taunting, "Oh, Mr. Mysterious. With all his secrets."

My heart dropped. This was going to be a problem, but it would have to wait.

"Is Oliver with you?"

"No," my brother said, a little confused.

"Good. I don't want him anywhere near Allison--or Vanessa for that matter."

"What's going on with you, man?" Luke said, full of concern.

"It's...complicated. Just stay away from Oliver Lockhart."

"No problem. I fucking hate that dude."

"You don't know the half of it."

I hung up and faced Beth.

"What's that all about?" Beth asked.

"Allison. We...broke up tonight."

"Ah. Over Oliver?"

"Yeah, well, no. It was just the straw, you know?"

Beth nodded.

"There's something else. Something I have to tell you before you find out some other way."

"Jesus, there's more?"

I sat down and told her the entire story. How I got into doing the audios, how Allison found out about it, how Oliver and Byron would likely use them against me if they ever found out.

"Well, that

is

something," Beth said with a tense laugh. "This changes things a little bit."

I nodded.

Beth put her hand on mine and said, "But, I'm on your side, kid, no matter what you choose to do."

"It's late. You should probably go home."

Beth laughed, "It was late when I got here. You take tomorrow to figure out what you want. I'll help in any way I can."

"Thank you," I murmured.

I showed Beth to the door and grabbed a bottle of water before dragging myself to bed.

That night, I had the same dream I always had, except the end was slightly different.

The women passed by as hazy blurs, but one slowed and moved to the front. The other women swooshed behind her, creating a frame for her silhouette. I couldn't make out any features, but I could feel her. She was heartbroken. The depth of her sorrow shot into me and matched my own. Without warning, she floated toward me and infused in me. The feeling rocked me to my core, and I shot up in bed and grabbed my phone.

I didn't need to look.

2:30 a.m.