Mr Moore left in the evening after checking with Pattison about Claire. He knew she was to be discharged soon.
He got to the back of the car deep in thought.
"Can you drive past the General Hospital?" Mr Moore asked his driver as he looked at his watch again.
"Of course, sir." The driver nodded and as instructed, he drove towards the hospital.
"Can you stop on the side?" Mr Moore asked as he looked out through the tinted window.
The driver obeyed without question, his eyebrows, however, were so high that they almost touched his hairline.
As Mr Moore suspected, it was barely two minutes before Claire walked outside. Gina held her arm to help her stand and Zoe was carrying the flowers and a few bags with treats. Claire looked badly beaten up yet she still smiled at her friends and radiated kindness.
She was bruised, including two black eyes, and so many bruises that her skin was more purple and blue than white.
Her blouse had patches of blood on it, as it was still the same one that she was admitted in.
He was worried that no one was to pick her up and even considered whether he should offer her a lift home, but Gina and Zoe were there. He wasn't going to show himself in front of them.
He instructed his driver to get him back to his apartment.
A new kind of anger spilt through him. A homicidal rage kind of anger. He wanted to find people who hurt Claire and revenge her.
The next morning, he came in quite late due to a meeting with an investor that was off-site. As he walked through the office a wave of secretive whispers followed him as well as some dirty gazes.
"What's going on, Pattison?" He asked as he put his black case on the desk.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I'm not blind. What's the gossip?"
"Well, there is some gossip in regards to yourself."
"Come on."
"It's quite awful, sir."
"Come on." Mr Moore was already running low on his patience.
"Sir, people think that you're responsible for Miss Thompson's condition."
"What?" Mr Moore stopped in his tracks and looked up at Pattison with shock on his face.
"Miss Thompson didn't show up to work yesterday after your disagreement on Friday. People made their own assumptions."
"Outrageous!" Mr Moore sat down. "Why would I get her beaten up to a pulp?"
"Sir, you're known to have a short temper. There were a number of rumours through the years related to sudden disappearances of your employees."
"I see. Any update on the investigation?"
"Actually, yes, sir. One of the gazette shops nearby that has been closed down still has functioning CCTV. I did forward it to the police."
"Send it to me."
"Of course, sir."
"I want future updates to be sent directly to me."
"Of course."
Pattison left and soon an email popped up on Mr Moore's screen.
He played it, and as soon as he saw the first kick on Claire's face his homicidal rage came back. He paced across the room trying to calm down but he needed to find a way out. He punched the wall. The concrete and dust spread across the room and his knuckles started to bleed.
He walked out of his office, briefly stopping by Pattison's desk.
"There's a hole in the wall in my office. Get it sorted." He ordered before leaving the building. He needed to walk it off.
He came back two hours later, knowing full well that he missed two meetings. He walked across the city and then grabbed a drink in a fancy social club, and then slowly made his way back.
As he entered his office, there was a new stack of papers on his desk requiring his attention. And the hole in the wall already disappeared as if it were never there.
He tried not to think of Claire and how he pushed her on Friday. How her smell drove him crazy, how her smile made his knees weak, and how he wanted to punish the men that hurt her.
He focused on work instead.
He did accept Claire's new action plan, even though he hated to admit that she might've had a point. He checked over her estimates and somehow she found a way to cut the costs by nearly 5%. She was a stellar employee.
He hated that. He hated that someone had the guts to stand up to him. He hated that she was right. He hated that she was as good as him, if not better. He never had that kind of challenge. It was intriguing and irritating.