Break So Soft: Break So Soft Duet

by Black, Stasia

  There is no other way.

  I stare at the comfortable carpet under my feet, only glancing up every once in a while to watch the status bar of the copy process. Sixty percent.

  Jackson’s face flashes through my mind. His many faces. The stoic one that seemed like his permanent expression when I first met him. The first time I saw him smile and the appearance of the dimple. How even then I knew I was in trouble.

  Seventy percent copied. Eighty. Eighty-five—

  I love you. I can see it so clearly in my mind’s eye, the way he dropped to his knees before me. Offering me everything. And later, how vulnerable he made himself, looking at me with those eyes that pleaded as much as they demanded.

  Ninety percent.

  “Goddammit!” I whisper, fighting indecision. Am I going to go through with this or not? Fuck. How many times am I going to let myself be backed into a corner where I feel like I have no choices and get myself into something I regret forever?

  “What are you doing in here, Callie?”

  My head jerks up in guilty astonishment to see Jackson standing in his office door. He— How did he— I didn’t even hear the—

  “I’m… I’m just,” Shit. Fuck. Think fast. “Um.” Shit. Think faster. “I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop thinking about the project.”

  I glance at the screen. Ninety-five. One hundred percent copied. How am I going to explain this? I’m not, that’s how. I click to shut the copy window, try to scroll to the section of code I’ve worked on before, and swivel the monitor for Jackson to see the now-innocuous screen. At the same time, I slip the memory stick out of the side port in what I hope is a distract-and-swap measure worthy enough for any amateur magician act.

  “This part of the code here,” I point with one finger while pocketing the drive with my other hand. I hop up on his desk and give the code my complete attention. Oh wow. In my crazy scrolling through the code, I actually landed near the part I was aiming for.

  “I know that we reduced our calculation time from the initial model by a factor of three, but I wonder if we could push it even more. What if we considered the flight as a set of temporal marked point processes, constrained of course by the direction of travel. Then we could reduce the overall computation to a handful of functions.”

  My heartbeat thumps a mile a minute in my ears but I keep talking, almost as fast as my heart is racing. “Which we could learn through maximum likelihood estimates of the historical trajectories.”

  Jackson glances at the code on the screen but then his eyes come back to me. “It’s a good idea.”

  I smile and hope he doesn’t notice how strained it is. At any other moment, I’d be proud of his praise. I came up with the idea during my sleepless night last night. I was trying to figure a way out of my real problem and boom, all my mind could produce was ideas for ways to improve the very project I wish I could instead sabotage. Fucking classic.

  “But are you sure that’s all that’s going on here?” Jackson’s face looks troubled. “You could have talked to me about this on Monday. Besides, I thought you said you were tired and going to bed early. Isn’t that why you said you didn’t want to get together tonight?”

  I feel myself twitch but force a smile. Shit. I thought I covered well enough. I walk around the desk and hop up on it. “I took a nap on the couch but then couldn’t fall back asleep when I transferred to the bed. Couldn’t turn my brain off.”

  I bring my legs around Jackson’s waist. Oh God. I’m going to hell. It’s official. Seducing my boyfriend to hide the fact that the drive in my pocket could betray his company and everything he’s worked for. I force more brass into my smile. “Maybe I was hoping to catch you here because I know how much your head is on this project too.”

  I put my arms around his neck and drag him down to me, enveloping his lips in a kiss that quickly becomes devouring. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me to him, murmuring how much he needs me.

  That pain that felt like a stab in my chest earlier burns with brand new agony.

  * * *

  By the time Monday comes around, I don’t even bother eating lunch. Well, I mean I try, but after barely managing a few bites of a granola bar, I give up.

  I step on the elevator I swore I would never ride again and hit the button for the top floor: the Gentry Tech offices.

  My heart races like I imagine a rabbit’s might right before a hungry jackal clamps its jaw down on its neck.

  But no. I’m prepared this time. I reach in my oversized coat pocket.

  Taser? Check.

  I glance down at my shin-high Doc Martins.

  Hunting knife? Check.

  I flex my hands in their patent leather gloves.

  Unobtrusive brass knuckles? Check.

  I will not be caught unaware this time. No matter that I’m walking back into the mouth of the lion’s den. I will never be a victim again.

  The elevator opens to a familiar lobby. The receptionist desk is empty at this hour, though. A quick glance at my phone shows that I’m early. It’s about four minutes before eleven p.m. The overnight security guard downstairs waved me straight past just like Gentry said he would. But this all seems too… simple.

  I’ve been torturing myself over this ever since that day two-and-a-half weeks ago when Gentry told me what he wanted and yet, here I am. The glass to Gentry’s office is clear instead of opaque. I can see that he’s alone. No one else is waiting to jump out at me for a repeat of my last scarring encounter in these offices.

  I’m still cautious as I head toward his office though, the rubber of my Doc Martins squeaking against the perfectly polished floor. I would have come in the baggiest sweats I owned except I want to be able to move if I need to. I settled for black stretchy jeans, cut-off at the knees, and a fitted dark blue hoodie. No makeup, hair in a low ponytail. This isn’t a business meeting and I’m not going to try to pretty it up like one.

  I shoulder the backpack I’m carrying with the prototype higher on my shoulder and push into Gentry’s office with little-to-no finesse. If the damn door didn’t have all kinds of mechanisms in place, it would have whacked into the opposite wall with a satisfying thwack. As it is, it only opens quietly and then hisses shut behind me.

  Gentry’s thumbing at his phone, appearing totally absorbed as he completely ignores me. It’s such a petty power play, I just roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.

  “Me and my prototype are happy to walk our asses right back outta this building if you’re too busy for us.” I toss a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the elevator.

  When Gentry continues staring at his phone’s screen, I turn on my heel.

  “Show me.”

  I allow only the briefest smile to flicker over my face before I make my features stone and turn back to face him. That’s right. I’m going to set the tone of this meeting from the beginning. I’m the one in control. Not him, no matter how much he believes he is.

  Calmly, I walked toward his desk, unzipping my backpack as I go. I pull out the prototype of the drone and set it on his desk. Gentry immediately snatches it up. His eyes avidly devour every bit of the twenty-two-inch prototype.

  In this moment, I hate how intelligent he is. It’s not fair. Why would God create intelligence only to deposit it in this waste of human tissue?

  Gentry’s eyes narrow as he looks back up at me. “Okay. Now where is the firmware that makes it fly? I want to look through the algorithms with a fine-toothed comb and see what he’s done. I’ll know if you’re giving me shit code. You’re a dumb bitch, don’t think you can pull one over on me.”

  I look away if only because I can’t bear to lock eyes with the man who raped and debased me. Even now he’s trying to steal something else that’s become so precious to me—Jackson.

  The only way to get through this is to make myself cold and shut down everything—emotions, thought, physical response. I have to. Gentry can’t see anything on my face. I won’t give him an inch of
power. Not one iota.

  I reach for the bag again but Gentry eyes my gloves, then stands up and backs away. “Just put the bag on the desk.” He eyes it like I’ve put a bomb in there or something. “There are contingencies in place. If anything happens to me, the video of you gets sent and you lose your son.”

  I scoff in disgust. “It would serve you right if I had a gun in here, you bastard.” I bang my backpack on the table and step back. “But you think I would let you make me a murderer? You think I’d do that to my son?” I shake my head. “Front pocket.”

  I step back and resume my position, feet planted, arms crossed, and stare him down. Of course, I don’t tell him I thought seriously about trying to stage his death as a self-defense kill.

  If I attacked him, I know the fucker would have no qualms about hitting a woman. Then, as long as I let him get some hits in and rough me up a little, I could just kill the fucker with my bare hands—I know a suffocation hold that would do the trick—and if all else failed, I could use the knife.

  But there are too many ways for it to go wrong. And it’s too close to the custody hearing. I considered it in probably far too much detail. There were entire nights I spent lying awake planning just how I’d do it before I finally let the idea go. My hand clenches and the brass knuckles underneath my gloves dig into my skin.

  Gentry retrieves the USB drive from the bag. Because he’s been inactive from his console for more than five minutes, he has to not only put in his password again, but go through his overly anal biometric security measures to unlock his computer—not just the usual eye scan but also the newest in palm imaging technology. An infrared scanner reads his palm print and also penetrates inside to read and confirm the pattern of veins inside his palm.

  On top of that, he whispers a password for voice recognition. I’m close enough to hear it: “Pandora six gorilla ten.”

  “You don’t think all of that is a little overkill?” I tilt my head at him sideways. I remember always thinking it was so ridiculous when I used to work for him. “Oh, I forgot. You think your secrets are so special.”

  Gentry’s nostrils flare. There he is. The barely civilized animal that he tries to hide in tailored suits. He fools so many people. He fooled me.

  “I would think someone in your position would want to be careful.” He holds up the memory stick he retrieved from the bag. “After all, you’ve already given me your bargaining chip.”

  “No,” I sputter and take a step forward in spite of myself. “We had a deal. I gave you what you wanted. Now give me the video. And you swear it’s the only copy, right?” I hate the desperation in my voice.

  “We’ll see,” is all Gentry says. “First let’s look at these algorithms.” He moves to put the drive into the input slot on his computer and then stops, glancing up at me with a sardonic smirk. “On a computer that is not connected to my network, just in case you thought you could infect me with a virus or something equally stupid.” He pulls out a laptop separate from his main computer.

  I bite my lip and watch him insert the terabyte drive into one of the laptop’s ports. I tap my foot impatiently. He looks surprised when nothing happens except the software loading.

  “I’m not an idiot. I’m not trying to pull anything.” I glare at him. “I only want to be free of you and get my son back home where he belongs.”

  Gentry doesn’t respond. He just starts typing on the laptop and then flipping up and down through the code. His eyes widen at what he’s seeing. Yeah. Because it’s the real fucking deal. Everything he could never come up with on his own. The genius he has to steal from men and women greater than himself.

  That’s how he’s made his entire career. He’s smart, but never smart enough. He’s just a bully that eventually turned into a monster. Or maybe he was a monster all along.

  My stomach drops in disgust.

  Gentry looks up at me. His eyes seem to lose focus for a second. And the bastard fucking grins. “What’s it feel like to sell out your lover? What’s betrayal taste like?”

  “Just shut up and give me what you owe me,” I snap, ready to be done with this.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  It’s roared from behind me and if I thought I felt nauseous a moment ago, it’s nothing to now. I twirl and standing there in Gentry’s doorway is the man I love.

  Jackson.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JACKSON

  Callie looks absolutely devastated as her head swings my way. “No,” she gasps. “You don’t understand.”

  “Oh I fucking understand.” I storm into the room. The beast inside me is roaring in fury and for once, I don’t leash him. I look past Callie at Gentry and I let him fucking loose.

  “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” Callie cries but I ignore her.

  I can’t stand to look at her in this moment.

  She continues pleading and when I brush past her, my shoulder bumping onto hers, she stumbles back and falls to the ground.

  My chest clenches but still I don’t look. I can’t. I just fucking can’t.

  “No. Jackson.” Tears choke her words. “Please, you have to listen to me.”

  “Always with your games,” I spit at Gentry, stalking toward his desk. The beast is one with me and we both want blood. Gentry stands up and backs away from his desk.

  “Look old friend,” Gentry lifts his hands and smiles, “I don’t know how you got past security, but you can’t do anything to me. Our gentleman’s bargain still stands. Anything happens to me and I release the tape of you raping that poor girl.”

  Callie gasps behind me through her choking sobs and that’s it. There was little chance I’d ever have mercy on this fucker but now there’s none.

  I follow him, a lion on the hunt. Gentry always relied on manipulation and trickery to get his way, never brute strength. I tower over him in both height and mass. Manipulation can’t save him now.

  “Guess what, motherfucker?” I growl, my voice dripping with every ounce of menace I feel. This bastard wants to take everything from me? Time for him to know what that feels like. “It’s called the statute of motherfucking limitations. You have nothing to hold over me anymore.”

  Gentry’s eyes widen as if realizing that for the first time in his life he just might have to pay for his actions. I grin what I’m sure is an evil motherfucking grin as I lift my arm and swing with the force of a decade and a half of fury.

  The beast roars in satisfaction as my fist makes contact with Gentry’s nose. There’s the crunch of cartilage and a high-pitched scream of pain from Gentry before he slumps to the floor.

  I stare down at him a long moment, breathing hard.

  Wait. He’s unconscious? I only got one motherfucking blow and he’s out?

  I turn around to Callie. “Well that was disappointing,” I deadpan. “Pussy went down with just one punch.”

  She grins as I hurry over and reach a hand down to help her off the floor. I don’t stop when she’s on her feet. I pull her into my arms, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle. Then I kiss the hell out of her.

  “Jesus, I was so worried letting you come up here alone with that psycho,” I say between kisses.

  “I was fine. I told you I had this.”

  I can’t help kissing her again. “It about killed me, not going to you when you were crying. And when you fell.”

  She laughs, holding my face in her hands. “I did it just like we practiced. Nothing to worry about.”

  I shake my head in wonder. “God I love you.”

  She squeezes me to her. “Love you too.”

  I could hold her forever but she’s quickly squirming out of my arms. “Okay, let me down, let me down. We gotta get to work. Let’s nail this bastard to the wall.”

  I pull back and grin at her. “I like the way you think, babe.” I let her down but not without a smack on her ass as I head around Gentry’s desk to his computer.

  * * *

  Yeah, so that
night back in my office when I caught Callie in there late when there was no godly reason for her to be there?

  I’m not an idiot.

  She tried spinning some BS about not being able to sleep and wanting to work on the code. Of course I knew better.

  I suspected from the very first meeting that Gentry would try to use her to commit corporate espionage. It didn’t take long for me to stop caring. I wanted her more and I knew that even if she went through with it, it wouldn’t be of her own free will.

  Because I know exactly how Bryce Gentry works.

  Still, that didn’t mean I was going to just give that bastard my life’s work. No, I’d save her and my company.

  So fucking arrogant.

  Because I didn’t save her at all, did I?

  Remembering the night she revealed it all will haunt me forever.

  * * *

  “What are you doing in here, Callie?”

  “I’m… I’m just… Um. I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop thinking about the code.”

  She slips a small USB drive in her pocket at the same time she shifts the monitor for me to look at what she’s been supposedly working on. An obvious attempt at distraction.

  Oh Callie. I rest my eyes back on her. “Are you sure that’s all that’s going on here? You could have talked to me about this on Monday.” Please, Callie. How many chances do I need to give you before you tell me the truth?

  I couldn’t give her many more. My security liaison had made that clear this afternoon. He was losing patience with this farce.

  He wanted to fire her the second he caught her on the camera in the machine shop stealing one of the old prototypes. I’ve been able to hold him off but I’ve got only one more week at most and then I’ll have to call her out.

  And risk losing her forever.

  Because maybe being with me has only ever been about the blackmail. I don’t know what Gentry had on her but I was sure it was something.

  Blackmail is his M.O. He did it to me and countless others. I only knew about a handful but for as powerful and successful as his company has become, I knew he had to have a huge interconnected network of secrets he was holding over the most powerful players in the country, hell, in the world.