Kill Switch

by Penelope Douglas

  They left, taking their money, and I waved off the driver to leave us alone, too. Once the door was closed, I turned my head to Rika as I unwrapped a new pack.

  “I want to play chess with you someday,” I teased.

  “Haven’t you been?”

  I turned back to the cabinet, smiling to myself. Having her as an opponent would be a real challenge, but I think I preferred her on my side.

  I packed the cigarettes, hitting them against the back of my hand, and feeling it again.

  The pressure. The need to release.

  Winter.

  I had her close now. Finally.

  But I was being pulled with the need to end it quickly and the desire to drag it out long and slow.

  She was home. Right now. Probably trying to devise some way to escape, and let her try, for all I care. I’d enjoy hunting her ass down. That stupid, dumb shit I married might make some good-looking kids, but she wouldn’t be half as enjoyable as owning that little girl will be.

  Yeah, Ari’s little sister was nothing like her. Winter would put up a fight. She’ll give me hell, and not only was I getting my revenge on her for what she did to me years ago, but I was going to have it all now. The head of the table, domain over my own house, and my favorite fucking toy.

  The city lights glittered out the windows as I walked to one of the tables. Meridian City, the metropolis less than an hour from my hometown and where Winter slept, shimmered and shined below, but I had no ambition to be a part of it tonight. Sometimes I liked the clubs—the music, the noise, the sex—but that was the thing about me. I only loved one thing at a time.

  A smile curled my lips, and I unwrapped the pack and stuck a cigarette in my mouth, lighting the end.

  “You better have something good for me,” I said to Rika, inhaling a puff and getting down to business. “Our little rendezvous come with strings attached, girl.”

  “Healthy relationships require a little reciprocation,” she replied. “What I brought you last time was the motherload, Damon. Now it’s your turn.”

  I let out a little laugh, pinching the cigarette between my thumb and finger as I took another drag. “I gave you info.”

  “You gave me no proof,” she retorted.

  I sucked on the cigarette again, filling my lungs with the sweet sting and tipping my head back to blow it back out in a stream above my head. Such a fucking little monster, that one.

  “Come here,” I told her, not turning around to look at her.

  Winter wasn’t the only woman in my head. This one and I still had a score to settle, too.

  I didn’t hear anything for a moment, but then I saw her emerge from the shadows out of the corner of my eye.

  But she stopped short.

  “Closer,” I taunted.

  Another couple of steps, and I could see blonde hair falling down her form to my left.

  But I still didn’t look at her.

  “Closer.” I grinned.

  Slowly, she approached, stopping just short of arm’s reach.

  Picking another cigarette out of the pack, I finally turned my head, met her eyes, and held the cigarette out to her.

  She looked like she was undercover or some shit, dressed like she was, but that was okay. I liked that our meetings were secret. This was a part of her Michael didn’t have.

  I raised my eyebrows, waving the cigarette back and forth for her to take it. I knew she liked them.

  But a little smile crossed her eyes, and she pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding up her palm with an entire un-opened pack of Davidoffs that she’d already stolen from my stash tucked in her hand.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled.

  She plucked the cigarette out of my hand, taking it anyway and skimming it under her nose to smell. “Thanks.”

  I shook my head. She must’ve snuck into my apartment at Delcour to look for me there first and raided my stash.

  Sticking the cigarette in my mouth, I closed the cabinet and walked away.

  “Those are my rooms,” I warned her. “Stay out when I’m not there.”

  I didn’t want her going through my shit.

  “They’re not your rooms,” she argued. “Michael doesn’t know you’re still staying there, and I can change that at any time.” She slid the cigarette into her breast pocket. “Thanks to me, you can still hide out right under our noses.”

  “And thanks to me, Michael doesn’t know that you’re letting me hide out right under your noses.” I pinned her with a look. “Your ass would be grass just as much as mine, so stow it.”

  She cocked an eyebrow but didn’t press further. She knew she had more reason to be afraid of me than I did of her.

  Still, though…as much as I kind of enjoyed our little exchanges, it pissed me off she wasn’t wary of me anymore. After everything I’d tried to do to her and could still do to her.

  I looked up, seeing her staring at me.

  “What?” I took another drag, walking over to the windows.

  “I thought you’d blackmail him with the info I got,” she explained. “Or ruin some of his partnerships.”

  She was talking about Winter’s father.

  “I must say, you exceeded my imagination.”

  “Impressed?” I glanced over my shoulder at her as I flicked off the ashes on my cigarette.

  “Scared,” she clarified.

  I chuckled. “I can live with that.”

  “And guilty.” She sat down on the arm of one of the couches, and I could see her watching me out of the corner of my eye. “I can’t believe you did that today. You went for the jugular, and man, you know how to commit, don’t you? What the hell have I gotten her into?”

  “Aw, don’t worry. She was going to answer to me with or without your help sooner or later anyway.” I blew out smoke and turned around, heading for the ashtray on the table.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Rika said.

  But I just breathed out another laugh as I ground the butt of the cigarette into the dish. “Coming from the woman who offered up all the info I needed to take her father, her home, and her fortune.”

  Winter’s father shared the same accountant as Rika’s family. The same disgruntled and anxious accountant who hinted that Winter’s father, Griffin Ashby, might have swindled Rika’s late father on some real estate deals years ago. I’m not quite sure how she got the proof, but she didn’t show up at my door until she had it, knowing it might be exactly what I needed to take down the Ashbys.

  And in exchange, I’d help her get something she needed, as well. Something I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to give her just yet. I liked her coming around, and I didn’t want it stop.

  “You know what I mean,” she continued. “Don’t hurt her.”

  You mean other than taking everything Winter owned and putting her in a perpetual state of dependence on me?

  Or hurt her as in…

  Yeah, that was what you meant, wasn’t it? Don’t hurt her.

  “Do you know how much Will bled in prison?” I asked her. “Do you know how hard Kai had to fight to hold down any food because his gut raged with nerves and fear from constantly having to look over his shoulder?”

  Her stern look remained steady on me.

  “Do you know that no matter what Michael paid or who he bribed, there were people paying more to see the rich, entitled sons of the Thunder Bay elite suffer in prison?” I kept going. “Do you have any idea how sick they both got from lack of food and sleep to balance the fucking excess of fear and pain?”

  Her gaze dropped for a moment, uncomfortable, but she stayed quiet.

  “Yeah, well, neither do I,” I told her. “Because I wasn’t there.”

  Her eyes shot up, looking confused. I walked, circling the perimeter of the room as I continued. “Three levels below cell block six, in the basement, down a dank corridor, below five feet of concrete, is where I was.” I fisted my hands, the anger returning almost immediately. “For three years. You didn’t know that, did you?” />
  Her eyes, so blue even in this dark room, pierced mine.

  “Banks thought she was doing me a favor,” I said. “And Gabriel agreed with her. He had too many enemies and those enemies had soldiers on the inside. I was more at risk than Kai and Will, so I was put in solitary confinement.” I drew in a deep breath, the blood under my skin growing hot. “Twenty-three hours a day, seven days a week, all day, every day, for one-hundred-sixty weeks. That’s one-thousand-one-hundred-twenty days. Twenty-six-thousand-eight-hundred-eighty hours, Rika.”

  My fingers tingled with the urge to dig into my skin, but I held back.

  “I was allowed outside one hour a day, but even then I was alone.” I walked around the room, glancing at her as I spoke. “I ate alone, I walked alone, I did everything alone. My father didn’t want me killed, so I was cut off from everyone.”

  I started circling the couch she sat on, and without thinking, I skated my hand over the portable bar, tugging on the corner and making the bottles clink together. Heat trailed up my neck.

  “The first day, you’re wondering what’s going on,” I explained. “No one’s saying anything. No one will answer your questions. You can’t see anything but your little plot of cement. And after the first week, you start talking to yourself a little just because there’s nothing to do, and you’re getting really fucking bored.”

  “You mean lonely?” she jabbed.

  “Pissed off,” I gritted out, correcting her. “No one is coming to visit. Where’s Banks? She would be there. Why are they keeping me from her?” And then I nod at her. “But you know you can take it. You can take anything they dole out. Will’s fine. Kai’s fine. They’ll be fine.”

  I kept circling the room, the muscles in my neck suddenly tight as I dragged my hand over the surface of tables and walls, going a little faster now and my fingers digging in as I held her stare.

  “But a month in, you start to find that your head is heavy,” I said, growing breathless at the memory. “Really fucking heavy, Rika, like you can’t lift it. So you start doing things to snap yourself out of it, like banging it into the wall over and over again.”

  I brushed past a vase and sent it crashing to the wooden floor, but I didn’t stop. I was in my cell again, circling the eight-by-eight-foot square and going mad.

  “And your skin feels tight, and the walls are pressing against your lungs, so you can’t breathe, and your brain starts slipping sideways, because the world looks so different now than it used to.” I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “And you just want to run—run hard. And breathe. You’re crawling inside yourself. You don’t just want out of the room. You want out of your skin.”

  I winced, and I couldn’t inhale. Something was on my chest. Sitting there.

  “And when you finally get a visit—four guards your dad pays to beat the shit out of you on the first of every month so you don’t get soft in solitary—you start to look forward to those visits.” I bared my teeth, still looking at her as I walked. “Because pain in the body quiets the pain in the head. It feels good, like a kill switch for your brain. And then you remember that fucking little cunt sitting in that courtroom, even though she didn’t have to be there, to take pleasure in hearing you accused and sentenced, while people lied about you and said you forced her into it.” My throat grew thick, and I almost couldn’t speak. “Forced her to get naked and to open her legs, going into vile detail like I made her do things I couldn’t already get from her sister down the hall or any other girl I wanted.” I was yelling now. “Acting like that time with her wasn’t the only fucking time I didn’t hate fucking.”

  I gasped for breath, my mania replaced with fury, and I saw Winter in my head and then only red. I stopped and stared at Rika, but my anger was still hot.

  “And maybe she couldn’t have stopped me being convicted, but she could’ve told them the truth. She could’ve stood up and said something. She could’ve opened her fucking mouth and talked,” I growled, my throat tight and burning. “But she stayed quiet, and you went into solitary for three years, and your friends fended for themselves while your mind slowly slipped off its axis and you’d rip out your own hair because animals do insane things when they’re caged for too long.”

  I panted, trying to lower my voice. “Three years,” I said, seething. “Three. Years. Rika.”

  I paused, evening out my voice and calming my breathing back to normal.

  “So, yeah,” I said, mocking her. “You bet your ass I’m gonna hurt her.”

  She sat there, her gaze faltering and her eyes glistening, but her shoulders still squared. She wasn’t a stupid woman, and I knew that. She had to suspect the can of worms she was opening by giving me those documents, but ultimately, she decided what I could give her was worth the damage I would cause. There was a bit of “not-so-honorable” inside her, too.

  She did what she did to get what she wanted, and I couldn’t lie. I felt a pang of pride at my new, unlikely little friend here.

  But again…she wasn’t a stupid woman. She knew the can of worms she was opening between Winter and me, and it was entirely possible she was planning for it. And while I was enjoying our newfound camaraderie, Erika Fane wouldn’t stand silently by and let me do my work. She’ll try to protect Winter.

  And let her. The more she put herself in my path, the more it would bring everyone else into play.

  Michael, Kai, Banks…

  Will.

  Balling my fists, I walked over to the bar, poured two fingers of vodka, and downed it in one gulp, immediately pouring another.

  Will.

  And Winter.

  Will and Winter.

  I downed the second shot, liquid heat coursing through my chest as I closed my eyes and heard Rika clear her throat.

  “So, do you have anything for me yet?” she asked like she hadn’t just heard all that. “Or are you just ready to admit you’re completely incompetent?”

  I squeezed the rocks glass, the subtle burn of alcohol still stinging my throat as I whipped it across the room in her direction.

  Fuckin’ girl.

  It shattered against the wall above her head, and she turned her face to the side, barely flinching as she let out a quiet laugh.

  She was hardly afraid of me anymore.

  “Call or text Banks,” she instructed, ignoring my tantrum. “She’s worried about you.”

  “She’s not.” I lit another cigarette and refilled my glass. “Banks knows me best. She knows I take care of myself first.”

  “And Will?”

  I walked for the couch, tossing her a look.

  “He has an alcohol problem,” she told me.

  But I just smiled to myself. “For men, it’s not a problem.”

  Every man I knew or grew up with drank. You held your liquor and you got shit done. Women were the lightweights, which is why I never let Banks drink.

  “And he has a drug problem,” Rika continued.

  I leaned back on the couch, tucking an arm behind my head and staring at her.

  And she was telling me this because…?

  I brought the cigarette to my lips with my other hand and took a drag. I met Will at the beginning of high school, and he’d played around with drugs for as long as I’d known him. Weed, X, pills, coke… It all ran rampant in our school. The only reason we didn’t have the heroin epidemic the inner city did was because we had the money and access to good shit from the town M.D.

  And Mom’s medicine cabinet.

  It was almost the only thing Michael and I ever agreed on.

  We didn’t do drugs. We were the drugs.

  “I’m sure you all will take care of it,” I told her.

  “You whined earlier because you weren’t there for him in jail, but you can be there now.”

  “Go home,” I said.

  For someone so smart, she was good at stupid. I was the last person Will wanted or needed help from.

  She paused a moment, as if waiting for me to say someth
ing or still holding out hope maybe, but then finally turned around and headed her ass for the door.

  But something caught her eye, and she stopped, lifting up a small black box off the sofa table and inspecting the contents.

  My heart thudded a beat, recognizing what she was holding. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, and then I was up, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray and charging toward her.

  Ripping the box out of her hands, I slammed it close, hearing the contents jingle inside as I tossed it on the sofa again, and then grabbed her collar, backing her up into the wall.

  Her blue eyes glared up at me, all tough and ready, but her little panting gave away the small amount of fear she still held of me.

  “Keep me in this perspective.” I stared down, towering over her. “At any time I could snap you in half and shut you up for good. You need me. I don’t need you. We’re not friends.”

  Stay out of my place. Stay out of my shit. No more chit-chat.

  “Glad you know that,” she replied, her voice surprisingly steady.

  I released her and turned, going back to the sofa, tucking the contents of the box back in, and fastening the latch. I’d cleared some stuff out of my father’s house and brought it in for the driver to take to my apartment at Delcour tonight.

  “I look like her.” I heard Rika say. “Don’t I? That’s why you’ve always hated me.”

  I hesitated.

  Like her. Like Winter.

  Blonde hair, blue eyes, same age, same wild purity… Like the innocence of a tornado or a raging hurricane.

  “I hate all of you,” I mumbled. I don’t even blink saying the words.

  I hate all of you. Hate all of who? Their little group I was once a part of? Women? People, in general? Who knew, and she didn’t ask.

  But part of me wanted her to understand.

  Jesus Christ.

  We needed to get back to business.

  She reached for the door, but I called her back.

  “Erika?”

  I saw her stop out of the corner of my eye as I walked for the cabinet and pulled out one of the two handguns I had stored there. I ejected the magazine from the Glock and checked the chamber to make sure a bullet wasn’t loaded and then held the gun and clip out for her to take.