His Basement, His Office - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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                    My eyes flew open, heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. Cold sweat clung to my skin, the phantom pain still throbbing where the knife had sunk in. That suffocating dread—the raw terror of dying—clawed at my throat. I gulped down air, my fingers digging into the sheets until the real world finally seeped back in.
What the hell was that dream?
I fumbled for my phone. The office gossip chat was blowing up—of course, at this ungodly hour.
"New GM?? Mixed-race?? AND stupidly hot???"
Messages piled up faster than I could process them. Whatever. I'd see him soon enough anyway. Right now, my brain was still stuck on the dream. Just the memory of that blade made my side twitch.
Across town, Maxwell stirred awake. No dreams tonight. No her. The emptiness gnawed at him, familiar and unwelcome.
He shook it off, rolling out of bed. Today was about the new job, not ghosts from the past.
The morning blurred by. I was shoveling lunch into my mouth when the break room chatter hit my ears.
"Oh my god, I saw him! Tall, built like a damn romance novel cover—I swear my soul left my body."
"Yeah, right," someone scoffed.
"Just wait. You'll see."
I scarfed down the rest of my meal and slunk back to my desk, mentally planning my post-work escape.
Too bad fate had other plans.
"Team meeting. Now. We're greeting the new GM."
I bit back a groan. Of course we were.
The "welcome dinner" was at some hole-in-the-wall BBQ spot tucked in a maze of alleys. I circled the block twice before finally spotting it.
Please let the food be decent, I begged silently.
It was… fine. Just a bunch of us picking at appetizers, waiting for the main event.
And waiting.
And—
The door swung open.
A chorus of sharp inhales. My head snapped up.
And there he was.
For a heartbeat, the room vanished. Suddenly, I was back in that basement, chains biting into my wrists, the stench of damp concrete thick in my lungs.
My blood turned to ice. The skewer slipped from my fingers.
                
            
        What the hell was that dream?
I fumbled for my phone. The office gossip chat was blowing up—of course, at this ungodly hour.
"New GM?? Mixed-race?? AND stupidly hot???"
Messages piled up faster than I could process them. Whatever. I'd see him soon enough anyway. Right now, my brain was still stuck on the dream. Just the memory of that blade made my side twitch.
Across town, Maxwell stirred awake. No dreams tonight. No her. The emptiness gnawed at him, familiar and unwelcome.
He shook it off, rolling out of bed. Today was about the new job, not ghosts from the past.
The morning blurred by. I was shoveling lunch into my mouth when the break room chatter hit my ears.
"Oh my god, I saw him! Tall, built like a damn romance novel cover—I swear my soul left my body."
"Yeah, right," someone scoffed.
"Just wait. You'll see."
I scarfed down the rest of my meal and slunk back to my desk, mentally planning my post-work escape.
Too bad fate had other plans.
"Team meeting. Now. We're greeting the new GM."
I bit back a groan. Of course we were.
The "welcome dinner" was at some hole-in-the-wall BBQ spot tucked in a maze of alleys. I circled the block twice before finally spotting it.
Please let the food be decent, I begged silently.
It was… fine. Just a bunch of us picking at appetizers, waiting for the main event.
And waiting.
And—
The door swung open.
A chorus of sharp inhales. My head snapped up.
And there he was.
For a heartbeat, the room vanished. Suddenly, I was back in that basement, chains biting into my wrists, the stench of damp concrete thick in my lungs.
My blood turned to ice. The skewer slipped from my fingers.
End of His Basement, His Office Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to His Basement, His Office book page.