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modern-day-bard · 3 months ago

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Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller AU Fanfiction

Content Warning: 18+ This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut. Minors, do not interact.

word count: 4.8k

ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 19: Intrusion

Gwen

If staring worked like water, eroding ceilings over time until they discolor and eventually collapse, I’d be covered in drywall and looking into the eleventh floor by now.

For three nights, all I do is stare. I fall in and out of sleep when even the brightest burn of anger dies down to an amber, but worry is quick to bring me back, stoking the flames. I usually wake with a soft gasp, or a twitch of my arm, as if I’m subconsciously shocked to feel as afflicted as I do.

I had said too much. I could have just told Joel that this was unacceptable, and he needed to inform me of every new development. That was true. But I didn’t expect to take it as…a betrayal. The thought makes me pinch my eyes closed. It means I trust Joel enough to have expectations for him, and that means I let my own feelings take hold for far too long. He was here on a job. I was teetering on the edge of admitting things about him, and about the corporation, that I had never dared utter out loud. I let my anger guide my words, and it’s a small blessing that’s all that came out.

The annoying thing is, after three nights of ruminating, I now found what Joel did endearing. Overstepping? Absolutely. But endearing nonetheless. And what’s more is, he admitted it. He apologized, even. It hadn’t been even a week since the package arrived before he told me, and knowing how stressed he’s seemed at every event with my friends, the fact that he wanted me to go…and the fact that he noticed it was something I needed... It felt like he cared about me beyond just blocking someone from my path.

Now, while I pretend to sleep, I try not to think about how much he could care, and if it was the same way I did. Joel probably had that level of compassion towards every client. I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, thinking I was somehow different or special. And even though it was my decision, I’m starting to regret not speaking to him these past few days. Maybe I should apologize in the morning. I could get him a coffee or something as a peace offering—

CRASH!

Glass shatters in the living room.

I’m not sure what it sounds like, to hear glass shattering in the living room from where I’m laying, until this very moment. I can’t think of what else that noise could be. I rack my brain of possible alternatives, coming up short in less than a few seconds. Rolling over, I yank my phone free from the charger, texting Joel immediately.

Me: Brandy

Not even a second later, he’s typing back.

Joel: Lock your door. Don’t come out until I say.

My heart pounds in my ears, and I move as quickly and quietly as I can to the doorway. I try to turn the lock slowly, so the clicking doesn’t ring out. Regardless, I still cringe as the lock slips into place.

A second crash sounds from the living room, and I cover my mouth to hide a small cry.

I hear Joel’s door open, though it’s quiet in comparison. I wish I could postpone the ringing in my ears so I could hear what’s happening in the living room, but I know there’s no more glass breaking right now. I don’t hear any voices either, just the soft padding of Joel’s stride down the hall. I find myself holding my breath, knowing that by now he must be able to see whoever is inside.

What if it’s a whole team of people against him?

I text Amari.

Me: 911 send help

Still, I hear nothing. What if they bound his mouth? Or they knocked him unconscious and didn’t let him hit the floor?

I’m startled when I hear erratic, quickened breathing, but I quickly realize it’s me. I cover my mouth, hoping it will stifle the hyperventilation.

Amari: on our way

My hands are shaking so badly I’m afraid I might drop my phone. Should I stay here by the doorway? Do I hide in the closet? I feel like any movement I make will be heard, and could encourage them to come seeking.

The silence is too loud, too noxious. Tears prick in my eyes. An image of Joel being beaten and bloody clouds my mind. I grab for the doorknob, hesitating.

Trust your instincts.

He had said it during our training session. I know he told me not to leave, but I couldn’t let him get hurt. And my instincts were screaming at me to move. With my still-shaking hands, I grab a marble bookend off of my dresser, gripping it until my knuckles turn white. I place my phone on the ground near the doorway, turning it on to record. If anything happens…at least there will be that evidence. Two more sharp inhales, and I unlock the door, hurling myself into the hallway, sprinting down to the living room.

The bookend is held high, ready to bring it down upon someone’s head, and I frantically search left and right for Joel. I notice two small lumps on the ground, but no people. No Joel.

Thud-ump, thud-ump, thud-ump.

All I hear is my heartbeat roaring as I continue to scan the living room. But there’s nothing. I take a step forward, noticing how one of the curtains flutters—

“Don’t move!” Someone bellows, making me scream. I turn, hosting the bookend higher, preparing to give them hell.

But it’s Joel. Just Joel. Standing by the kitchen island, a broom in his hand.

“There’s glass. Don’t take another step.” He commands, rushing to the nearby hall closet to pull out my gym shoes. He makes quick work of bringing them over to me, offering his shoulder for me to lean against as he bends down to help me slip them on.

“Where are they?” I whisper.

Joel gingerly tries to take the bookend away from me, but I resist. “No one broke in,” he says.

“Then why didn’t you call me? Why are the lights off?”

“Because I think whoever did this is still outside. You need to back up, for your own safety.”

In that deep, commanding voice, I listen to him. I back up until I’m standing at the edge of the hallway. Through the dark, I try to assess what he’s talking about. Joel follows my gaze, pointing to the two separate lumps on the ground.

“They’re bricks. Someone threw them through the window.”

That explains why the curtain is moving on its own. And with my senses beginning to regulate, it also explains the cold breeze I start to register on my skin.

“Can we turn on the light?” I hate how small my voice sounds, but not enough to keep me from asking.

“No,” Joel moves in front of the window, peering at the roof of the building next door. “If they’re trying to target you, turning on the lights just puts this game on easy mode. Another reason you should’ve listened to me when I told you to stay put!”

“Oh,” I breathe, shifting in my sneakers. He sounds angry.

No, not angry—livid.

Joel doesn’t say another word as he sweeps the glass closest to me, shifting it back to the window.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my pajama shorts. “Why didn’t the alarm go off?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbles, putting the broom down.

“I–I texted Amari.”

For some reason, this makes him shift his attention to me. “That’s good.”

“They should—should be here, soon.” I put the bookend down on the floor next to me.

He stares at me for another moment, before he speaks in a slightly softer tone, despite his rage-filled eyes. “You should go pack a bag. We’ll leave as soon as they get here.”

I turn back to my room without so much as a nod.

I start in the bathroom, gathering my makeup and toiletries, before grabbing a weekender out of my closet. I’m not sure if this is just for the night, so I pack two extra dresses for work just in case. After everything is zipped up, it occurs to me that I should change into something other than a silky sleep set. My hands haven’t stopped shaking as I slip into a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater.

I overhear Joel approving Amari and the team to come up in the elevator. I don’t want to go out and face them. I don’t want to hear the possible explanations, or the chatter of security measures I don’t quite understand.

Bricks? On the tenth floor? That feels impossible. This whole night feels impossible. I shove my hands in my pockets as I leave my room, not wanting anyone else to know the effect of this chaos.

Thankfully, with the entire crew here, Joel feels it’s safe enough to turn the lights back on. That alone provides a bit of comfort to my tightening chest. Amari stalks over to me as soon as he sees me.

“Miss Russell. You’re unharmed?”

“Yes. I’m…fine.”

“Good,” he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder, glancing around at the seven men inspecting my apartment.

They’re inspecting everything. Every crevasse, even those that have nothing to do with the windows. One of the men is leaning towards the bricks, and I follow his gaze. Looking down, I notice long pieces of rope tied around both bricks, with a white paper wrapped around the one closest to me.

“You’re shitting me.” I hiss, creeping toward the brick. This captures nearly all of their attention, as many pairs of surprised eyes turn my way. Three of them try to stop me, but Joel is the one who gets to me first, wrapping a gentle hand around the crook of my elbow.

“There are shards everywhere. What do you need?”

“There’s a fucking note. There’s a damn note attached to the fucking brick!” I point at the ground, my voice wobbling. Joel’s eyes widen slightly.

“Okay,” he says in a voice that may be reserved for negotiation tactics. “Let me get it.”

My eyes drop down to the floor and I nod.

Amari steps forward, his hand outstretched. “There could be fingerprints. We shouldn’t touch it yet.”

Joel looks from my face to Amari’s. “Someone get me a glove.”

“Joel, just in case—”

“Amari,” that same commanding tone is back. “She deserves to know.” Joel gives me the smallest of nods, and I hope my expression conveys my gratitude. After last week, I know he’s trying to make amends. But honestly, that hiccup is the last thing on my mind right now. Jace, one of the security members, hands Joel a glove and he immediately grabs the note.

Joel glances at me, a silent permission to read the note out loud. Whatever he sees on my face, it allows him to continue.

“My warnings are as earnest as my gifts. You should be in charge of the company. Go after what you really want. Like me.” Joel reads it as monotone as possible, and still, a shiver runs down my back. He’s watching me carefully, and I just want out. I need to get out of here.

“What’s the point?” I say softly. “Why would anyone care about that? They want me to, what, force my father to retire? Just so they know specifically what floor I’m on? They already know where I live.” My voice cracks again on the last word, and I just clear my throat, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. No one in the room responds to my questions. Not that they would have any of the answers.

“We should go. You need to sleep, and there’s no reason the security system should have been silent with two broken windows.” Joel moves to my side, taking the bag off of my shoulder. I don’t protest. My eyelids are heavy despite my quickened heart and sweaty palms. What time is it?

I glance into my kitchen, and the oven reads exactly twelve o'clock. I would have thought it was later, after laying awake for so long. But I suppose time passes differently when those types of thoughts are keeping you up. As much as I didn’t want to think about what my feelings for Joel are, I would give anything to go back to an hour ago when that was my biggest concern. Trying to figure out what he means to me is far less frightening than worrying about his safety.

I look at the solemn faces scattered around my living room. Some pretending to work, some obviously waiting for me to leave so they can start. I nod at Joel before turning to Amari.

“No one should hear of this. No one on the board, no one outside this room.” Not only would attention from the press exacerbate the issue, I also didn’t need anyone on the board looking at me like I was weak.

Amari looks apologetic. “I sent word to your father. No one beyond him will hear of it. You have my word.”

I don’t have the energy to feel disappointment. “Okay.”

Joel guides me toward the elevator, and Jace and Carlos follow us inside.

“It would be wise to tighten security measures, just for tonight.” Joel says low enough that they don’t hear it. “They’re going to help me escort you.”

“Okay,” I repeat, my tone drained for any emotion.

I’m not surprised that we pull up to my father’s house. Even if we doubled our security, it wouldn’t make sense to go somewhere unfamiliar tonight. The small blessing is that my father is in China for the next week. I thought I was lucky just getting out of the weekly dinner, but this is an additional bonus in the middle of an awful night.

Carlos asks if I want him to wake Melissa to make me something. I shake my head, ensuring Joel was in tow before making my way up the stairs. Jace and Carlos stay in the foyer, double checking that the house is armed as we leave them behind. I check again to make sure Joel is behind me as I round the corner of the hallway. He’s watching me, as always, but he doesn’t say anything. At my door, I hesitate.

“Do you want your privacy? I can leave before you…” he trails off, obviously confused. Why would I need privacy just to open my bedroom door?

“No,” my voice comes out as a whisper. I step inside, but I find myself turning around again. I feel…fear. Fear that he won’t be there. That if I don’t keep my eyes on him, he’ll disappear.

“I’ll be right outside,” Joel leans forward, dropping my bag inside the room.

I wring my hands, staring at our feet. I can’t close the door. I can’t be alone, and even more so, I can’t have him be alone. The image that clouded my head tonight, thinking someone had hurt him—

“Why didn’t you listen?” He asks softly. “You could have been hurt. Miss Russell, if someone were there, you could have been—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Now isn’t the time. You need sleep.”

“So do you,” I say. His pained, weary eyes meet mine. “Please don’t stay outside.” Panic runs cold through my arms, in disbelief of what I’m saying.

“You’d prefer for me to stay in one of the guest rooms?”

“No,” I shake my head rapidly, “Can you stay with me? Please.”

Joel swallows audibly, taking a second to glance behind me at the room. Then he gives me a curt, professional nod. “Of course.”

He picks up the bag again, walking past me to set it on one of the chairs instead.

“I think…I think I’m going to shower.” I unzip the bag and reach for my toiletries.

“Shower?” He glances down at his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning.”

What? It took less than a half hour for us to get over here. My oven must be wrong…

“I’m just…cold. My hands,” I hold them out, no longer embarrassed for Joel to see them shake. His eyebrows thread together watching them quiver.

“Okay. I’ll be here.” He takes a seat in one of the chairs. I practically sprint for the bathroom, wanting the steam to expel the dread from my pores as soon as possible. I lock the door behind me for added protection.

Once I'm under the water, it does help to ease some of my tension. But even when I decide to wash my hair, it’s still not distracting enough. Where at my own apartment, I felt so exhausted that I just wanted to be taken out of there, I now feel wired. Like it’s a necessity for me to stay awake, and to will my mind to focus on other things. If I try to sleep, what will happen? If I close my eyes or think too long, I just see Joel again, bloody and injured on my living room rug.

I take an extra few minutes to lather up my body, trying to wash away this new buzz running through me. After the shower, I take an equal amount of time using lotion for the same reason. But the buzz becomes an itch, and I can’t think of a way to scratch it. Part of what I’m feeling is relief. There was a split second tonight where I thought Joel had been seriously hurt, and in my mind, he was unconscious. Unable to move. I knew he was angry with me for defying his order, but I would be far too angry with myself if I hadn’t done it. And the relief I feel now overtakes any remaining feeling of panic, though it demands further distraction to keep the panic at bay. I want to run towards that relief, but I’ve completed every distraction I can in this room. And that’s when I become incredibly aware of the fact that Joel is right outside the door, safe.

Safe and… alone…in my bedroom.

As I wrap myself up in a robe, I still feel that there is an itch needing to be scratched. A need for relief that I can hold, something tangible that confirms he’s truly alright. And I can think of only one way to honor this relief. Only one way to provide a distraction.

Exiting out of the bathroom, Joel stands, averting his gaze when he sees I’m only wearing a robe. With his eyes on the door, I start to cross over to him.

“Miss Russell, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken that tone with you. I know that this has been a long night—-”

Standing chest to chest with him, his face is bewildered as I grab the back of his neck with both hands, pulling him down to my lips.

I kiss him harshly. Desperately. Pulling him as close to me as I can manage, though I can’t seem to get him close enough. His hands fly to my hips, holding me against him. I sigh, realizing how terribly I’ve wanted him to touch me for god knows how long. I wish the robe wasn’t so thick so I could feel his calloused hands against my skin. And he smells so good.

But his lips…he’s barely kissing me back. Not even a moment later, as if someone jolted him, he grabs my hands, pulling them away from his neck. He holds them in front of his chest, creating a barricade between us.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low.

“Yes,” I practically whine, “I am.” I try to pull out of his grasp, but he shakes his head.

“You’re still shaking. You may be in shock.” Joel’s chest is heaving, assessing my face like he’s looking for injury.

At that, rejection hits me in the gut, and I feel my cheeks turn a deep shade of red. I try to pull away again, now feeling the panic resurface.

What have I done? He doesn’t want that. He works for my father, for fuck’s sake. Now I might lose him anyway.

“Hey,” Joel whispers, tugging my hands closer to his chest now. “You’re okay.”

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me…” I shake my head over and over as Joel shushes me. “That was so inappropriate. I’m sorry, I’m just glad you’re��alright.” I hiccup, and tears are dangerously close to spilling over now.

“You’re okay,” Joel repeats, now pulling me flush against his chest. He continues to shush me softly, one of his hands wrapping around my waist and one smoothing my hair. I don’t hug him back, exactly. One of my arms rests awkwardly against his, and the other hangs at my side. I don’t have the energy to determine what I should do after a slip up this bad. He might quit. He spoke of relationships at that Halloween party, and how they interfere with the job. I am the job, and I’ve completely disrespected his boundaries.

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” his chest rumbles against my ear as he talks. “Relax. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

The softness of his words ends up pushing a few tears over the edge, and I’m grateful he can’t see them. Thank god I decided to wash my hair, as now it provides coverage for my tenuity.

I’m not sure how long he holds me like this, but eventually, he asks if I think I can lay down for a while, and I nod into his t-shirt. I feel my chest tighten again as I crawl into bed, and I realize that he’s sitting in one of the chairs again, letting his head fall back to at least pretend to sleep. I try my best not to let the distance bother me, but I can feel my heartbeat fighting back, climbing to regain the insane rhythm it had before.

“Um,” I clear my throat, taking another breath before I continue. “Do you think you could sleep over here?”

I feel like a child. Lost and inconsolable over something that was, for now, solved. There was no reason to worry about losing him right now. No reason to be afraid in this room. But that feeling of loss is prevalent throughout my body, and I had thought we were safe at my apartment too.

Joel’s face is unreadable, staring back at me.

“I promise not to kiss you again,” I say, making my voice as normal as possible, attempting to add some humor to it. After another moment, this does make him crack the smallest of smiles. Every muscle in my body loosens as I see him get up from the chair and make his way over to the bed.

He lays on top of the blankets, which I should have anticipated. He couldn’t be further away from me, otherwise he would be on the floor, but he still decided to lay down facing me. I give him a tiny smile.

“I know you’re like, a trained killer or something, but I don’t care. If you tell anyone about me asking that, I will actually kill you.”

He chuckles enough to shake the bed a little, and my smile grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

After a few moments, I whisper, “I am really sorry, Mr. Miller. I shouldn’t have touched you—”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” He shifts his body, angling away from me slightly.

“Okay…but if you want to report it, or change assignments, I understand.”

Joel just shakes his head, letting his eyes close for a minute. “I don’t want that, Miss Russell. I appreciate it but… no.”

“Alright. Then I promise not to touch you again without your permission.”

The corner of his mouth turns upward before he hides it with a cough.

“Likewise.”

Likewise? He didn’t even return the kiss…But it doesn't matter. He’s probably trying to make me feel better, as usual.

“Do you want me to turn off the light?” He asks.

“I’ll do it,” I say, reaching for the remote next to me. I leave on one desk lamp in the corner of the room. I don’t need any of the furniture turning into humanoid shapes in the dark.

I stare at the ceiling for several minutes. It could have been hours, but the light outside is still pitch black. I can hear Joel’s steady breathing, but I know he isn’t asleep. Every so often, I feel his eyes peering over at me. After a long while, the weight of the night destroys my defenses, and I dare to ask.

“Why would a stalker want me to become CEO?”

I feel the eyes on the side of my face again. “They’ve probably put you on a pedestal. They want to see you succeed,” he says factually. I’m silent long enough for him to continue. “Do you want to be CEO?”

“Yes,” I answer without thinking, “But most people don’t want me to be.”

The bed shifts beside me, and now Joel’s whole body is turned to face me again. “Why would you say that?”

That question, this conversation…is something I haven’t dared speak about to anyone. Not even my friends. I trust Joel with my life, but not with this. This was worth more than just my life. I turn toward him before responding. I want to be able to gauge exactly how he reacts to what I’m about to say.

“I…did something, a few months ago. I’m not sure who in Russell Corp knows. If anyone knows. But I think you were hired to watch and report, not to protect,” I take a long inhale, phrasing my words just right, “I think there are people in the company who want to make sure I keep my mouth shut. I thought you were hired to do that.”

His eyebrows crease, his brown eyes searching mine in the dim light.

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I nod. “It seems that way. But…I don’t trust anyone with this, Mr. Miller. No one else knows what I know. And I don’t know enough to trust your reason for being here.” It feels slightly absurd not to trust him after tonight especially. I thought someone was in my home, and I trusted Joel to take care of it. He moved without thinking. He put himself in harm’s way on a daily basis for me and the people I care about. Regardless of what he gets paid, it’s evident that he cares. But even with all of that knowledge between us both, he doesn’t look offended by my words.

“I’m from Texas.”

I stifle a laugh. “And that’s supposed to make you trustworthy?”

“You said you didn’t know enough about me. You don’t have to tell me anything now, or trust me now, for that matter. But if it would help…ask me anything you want to know.” His eyes are so sincere, his voice so gentle, that a small part of me would cry again if I let it.

“Do you have a family?” The question comes out without a filter, but I don’t care. I have wondered that before, and I would actually like to know.

“Of my own? No. My parents are gone, but I have a brother, Tommy. He lives in Texas, too.”

“Does he have a twang like you?”

It was a genuine question, but it makes him laugh. “You think I have a twang?”

“You do have a twang. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

It’s far too dark, and far too late, and I know I’m probably imagining things at this point. But I swear, Joel’s cheeks deepen with embarrassment.

“In that case, I suppose he does.”

“I suppose he does,” I mimic him, exaggerating his accent tenfold. Joel chuckles, shaking his head against his pillow. “What? You know I’m right.”

“I know that you’re loopy. That’s what I know. Any other questions?”

I think for a moment. “Who taught you to play guitar?”

“No one, really. I’m self-taught.”

“Ah. I should have guessed.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You’re…utilitarian. Independent, I guess. You seem like the type to teach yourself things.”

“I thought I was the observant one,” he says with a smile.

“Not the only observant one, is what I believe I said.” I unsuccessfully stifle a yawn as I say it.

“Not the only tired one, either. You should try to get some sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” I let out a long, unrestrained yawn now, “I should let you sleep.”

He shushes me again. “Stop apologizing. Just close your eyes.”

I want to tell him not to tell me what to do. But his voice is so soothing, and listening to the sound of his breathing next to me is the most calm I’ve felt all night. Truthfully, it’s the most calm I’ve felt in weeks.

Sleep finds me, and carries me away with ease.

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