Hardwired

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Hardwired Page 20

by Meredith Wild


  “Unfortunately, yes. This is why these things take so damn long to prepare.”

  “I’m not signing away my first born, am I?” I settled into a chair across from him, worried now that I wouldn’t have the time I needed to actually review any of this. What if I found something that could be a deal breaker? What if I had no idea what the hell I was signing?

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” a voice said from behind me.

  I swiveled in my chair as Blake entered the room. Dressed in jeans and a navy V-neck, he looked ruthless despite his casual attire.

  “What can I do for you, Landon?” Max’s voice was clipped and his lips thinned into a tight line.

  “You can give me a moment with Miss Hathaway.”

  “Certainly. We’ll be finished here shortly.”

  “Now.”

  “Is there a problem?” Max said through gritted teeth.

  “You’re the problem.”

  With that, Max stood. His chair rolled back and hit the glass window with a thud. “Take your time, Erica.” He glared at Blake, then left us and shut the door behind him.

  My heart beat wildly, a combination of the sheer relief of seeing Blake superseded by a gnawing fear that the deal with Max now hung in the balance. If Blake was going to be this difficult with my affairs, why would Max even want to bother with me now? He’d be signing on for months of irritation.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.

  “I didn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave me much choice.”

  “I told you, I’ve made my decision. It’s basically done.”

  “Not nearly. You haven’t signed anything yet.”

  “I fully intend to, so I suggest you take your compulsive tendencies and leave us be.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  Oh no. I hesitated. A sinking dread crept over me. “Too late for what?”

  “I’ve wired double the funds you need into your business account.”

  I tried to formulate words, questions that needed to be asked, but instead I stood there, slack-jawed and gaping at his audacity, which true to form, never failed to completely amaze me.

  “Don’t bother figuring out ways to give it back, because I’ll block you from getting investors anywhere else in the city,” he continued. “You know I can.”

  “What if Max still wants to invest?”

  “He won’t,” he said with finality. “No deal goes through here without my authorization, and he won’t be getting it.”

  “Why are you doing this?” My voice quivered. He’d effectively backed me into a corner. I could think of other avenues, but I knew he’d already out-thought them.

  “I care about you more than Max ever will, though God knows he’ll try to tell you otherwise.”

  “This isn’t about your goddamn pseudo-sibling rivalry with Max. This is my life you’re playing with. This is everything I’ve worked for, and you’re ruining it!” I slammed my fists on the table before I stood, facing him.

  “This is not nearly close to what you’ll achieve. The fact that you think I’d fuck it up for you just shows how completely naïve you are.”

  I slapped him, hard, the sound slicing through the room the way his words sliced through me. My hand stung with the contact and my breath left me in uneven pants.

  Shock registered on his face, but he hesitated only a second before cupping my nape and kissing me, bruising my lips with his. I fisted my hands at my sides. No. He wouldn’t wear me down. Not this time. I wouldn’t let him.

  I went to war with myself, fighting how he made me feel as his lips crushed mine, owning me with every plunging kiss. You’re mine. I heard his voice in my head. A moan escaped me and I realized I was kissing him back, my body responding beyond my control. I trembled with all the love and hate I felt for this man. I hated myself for it. For wanting him the way I did.

  He’d worn me down.

  He’d won.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Barely out of the city, I sat in traffic heading south, filled with a rage that had me wanting to go eighty instead of ten, which is where the needle hovered over the speedometer. Hundreds of people were headed to the Cape this Friday afternoon, and while I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a family reunion with my newly discovered father, I wanted to be as far away from Blake as I could.

  Somehow I’d found the strength to leave Blake in the boardroom. I offered a brief apology to Max but spared him the details, knowing Blake would bring him up to speed. Good riddance to both of them. They could carry on with their inane rivalry until they destroyed each other in a goddamn blaze of glory for all I cared.

  Blake hadn’t given me any other professional options, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to reward him with our relationship. I loved him, madly and with a passion that I would likely never find again, but I wasn’t about to be a kept woman. The apartment, and now the business. He’d keep meddling until I was completely under his power, subject to his whims and wants. In the bedroom, I wanted that, I craved it. But in real life, we needed boundaries, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get him to accept them. My anger bubbled back to the surface and I slammed the steering wheel.

  A couple hours later, the traffic finally broke. I wove through, switching lanes like a speed racer until the GPS directed me to an exit.

  I drove the winding back roads toward my destination with a little more care. The shore dotted with mansion after sprawling mansion, each property taking advantage of the beautiful ocean view. Other than a short girls’ trip with Alli, I had spent very little time on this prime stretch of the seaside in the eight years since I’d lived in New England.

  I pulled into the driveway of a three-story monster of a home next to a Lexus SUV. This was it. I took a few deep breaths and loosened my grip on the steering wheel, trying to purge my anger at Blake from my system. Today was supposed to have been a happy day. Maybe it wasn’t too late for that.

  I got out and peeked over the fence that separated the driveway from the small yard and the beach below. The house was built on a steep cliff positioned well above its neighbors, offering an impressive view of the sea on three sides.

  “Erica!” Daniel’s voice rang out from the back door.

  He looked different. Casual in khakis and a linen shirt, he smiled when I approached.

  “I’m glad you came.” He wrapped me in a friendly hug.

  The gesture took me by surprise, but I welcomed it. “Me too,” I said. Muffled by his shoulder, I hugged him back tightly, wishing I didn’t feel so raw right now. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be crying at the drop of a hat. He wouldn’t think I was after his money, but he’d know I was a complete basket case.

  “Come in, I want you to meet Margo.”

  I nodded, and he took my bag and set it in the enclosed entryway. We entered an expansive great room where a dining room with weathered whitewashed furniture flowed into a living room. Oversized couches covered in white canvas slip covers and faded blue throw pillows—everything about the home screamed quintessential seaside.

  He led me into the kitchen where a tall woman with dark auburn hair busied herself tossing a salad. “Erica, this is Margo.”

  Margo removed her apron and came toward me with arms outstretched. She was a lithe figure, with freckles sprinkling her tanned skin. Heavy pearl studs hung from her ears, matching the simple string of pearls around her neck. Despite her height, she felt frail in my arms. When she stepped back, I was instantly grateful for my wardrobe choice.

  “Aren’t you a vision? It’s wonderful to meet you, dear. Are you hungry?”

  I hadn’t thought of eating all day. My nerves had gotten the best of me this morning, and since the meeting, eating had been the last thing on my mind. “I’m famished actually.”

  “Give me a few more minutes and we’ll be ready to eat. Honey, you can put the fish on now.” She motioned Daniel to the refrigerator.

  He nodded and left my side to retrieve a tray. “Want a
beer?”

  “Um, sure,” I said, though I’d be drunk in a flash unless I got something in my stomach soon. If I got to the bottom of this bottle, they’d know more about me than they probably wanted to. Daniel grabbed two bottles with his free hand and signaled me to follow him.

  We stepped out onto the deck, and while he focused on the grill, I took in the scenery. I’d spent the entire trip fuming about Blake instead of thinking about things Daniel and I could talk about to get to know one another better. I really wanted him to know me, to want to know me.

  I looked over the horizon and at the calm ocean before us. In the distance, a smattering of black blobs moved along the rocks at the foot of the cliff.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  Daniel looked up to where I’d pointed. “Seals. They hang out there all day. Loud beasts, they are. They’re the first thing we hear in the morning.”

  I laughed a little at the thought of seals being a rooster of sorts in these parts. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you. We love it here. It’s a great getaway.”

  He closed the cover of the grill and joined me at the railing, which separated us from the steep drop off only a few feet away. A tiny collapsible ladder led from the edge of the property down to the beach. The cliffs were beautiful but dangerous, especially if anyone were to get stuck on the beach during high tide.

  Daniel interrupted my idle thoughts. “So I Googled you, but I have to admit I’m a little lost about what you do. What’s Clozpin?”

  I smiled, warmed that he’d made the effort. The little hope I’d felt before fluttered to life. “It’s a social network startup, focused on fashion. It helps people find outfits and connect with labels and designers, that sort of thing.”

  “So you built this while you were still in school?”

  “With a couple of my friends. Since I graduated, I’ve been working to get angel funding, which…” I paused, questioning the words as I said them. “We got our funding today, so hopefully there are some big things to come.”

  “That’s fantastic, Erica.” He smiled and tipped his beer toward me.

  “How about you? Have you always wanted to be in politics?” I asked.

  His nose wrinkled as he stared out into the darkening horizon of the ocean. “In a fashion, yes. My family’s been involved in local politics for a few generations, so I suppose going into it has been an inevitable progression of my career.”

  “Are you feeling positive about the governor’s race?”

  “Definitely. We have some powerful endorsements, and I think we’re running a pretty good campaign. The social media component, though I know next to nothing about the details of it, seems to be garnering results as well. You could probably tell me a thing or two about it.”

  I nodded and laughed. No doubt we spoke two very different professional languages.

  “About the campaign…” He hesitated, as if contemplating what he were about to say. “This will sound awkward, but it’s something I have to ask you.” He rubbed the fine stubble on his chin. “As I said, you know, meeting you was unexpected. A happy surprise, of course.”

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  “I have a lot riding on this campaign, Erica, and I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely, I don’t know, horrible, I guess.”

  “You’d rather I not come out publicly as your illegitimate daughter.” I blurted it out. Knowing politicians, he could have danced around the subject for several more minutes before he got to the point.

  His face softened and a flicker of guilt passed over his features, but I understood where he was coming from. The last thing I wanted to be was a burden or a source of stress for him.

  “It’s not a problem, really,” I said. “I just wanted the chance to get to know you, which I hope can still happen. But I have my own business and my own PR to work on. The last thing I want to do is complicate what you’ve built here. Honestly I have nothing to gain with your political affiliations.”

  He nodded and took a long swig from his beer. “I suppose that makes sense. Obviously we know what we know, and I suppose that’s the most important thing, right?”

  I nodded and ran my hand along the railing, contemplating a question I had been meaning to ask.

  “Maybe it was my age, being so young when she passed. But I always wondered why my mother never spoke of you.”

  He straightened and a frown marred his brow. “We had a complicated relationship. At least, we did when we found out she was pregnant. Neither of our families were going to be happy about the news.”

  “I can see that.” My mother’s family had always been distant too. With Daniel’s background, I imagined circumstances wouldn’t have been much different. A blue blood family like his wouldn’t have reacted well to him knocking up a girl out of wedlock, no matter where she’d come from.

  “After she went back to Chicago, I assumed she was going to take care of it. I didn’t hear from her, and I didn’t want to reach out and raise suspicions with her family.”

  “So you never spoke after graduation?”

  He shook his head and stared out at the ocean, as if the answers for how life had changed for him were out there somewhere, just out of sight.

  A car door slammed and I looked over, catching a glimpse of a head of brown curly hair that passed the fence and entered the house.

  “That would be my stepson. Just about your age too, actually.”

  Daniel gestured for our return to the house and I braced myself for another introduction.

  Margo was setting the table with salad and a steaming bowl of rice. The aroma from the food mingled in the air, and I couldn’t wait to stop talking and start eating. The young man came through the door and walked toward her, but he stopped short when he saw me.

  Everything stopped moving. The room turned cold and silent. I heard my heart beat, a deafening uneven thud, pulsing an icy pain through my veins, chilling me to the bone. In a room with others, I was alone. Alone with my memories and the shame of what he’d left me with. A sick repulsion twisted through me as I tried to comprehend the horrible nightmare standing in front of me.

  I gripped Daniel’s arm, uncertain if my legs would hold me. I looked up at him, as if somehow he could know. He only stared back at me and gestured to their new guest.

  “Erica, this is my stepson, Mark.”

  Mark.

  After four years, I finally knew his name.

  ***

  I excused myself immediately, finding the nearest bathroom. I locked the door behind me, struggling with the effort while my hands shook uncontrollably. I splashed water on my face and looked into the mirror for help. I was as pale as a ghost. Nausea hit me in relentless waves, and I fought the urge to heave, to purge his poisonous memory from my body.

  I needed to get back in control. And I needed a game plan. My phone was in my purse. It was still in the living room.

  But who would I call? Beyond that, what would I say? The man who raped me in college is my fucking stepbrother. Hell, how was I going to get through this? I could barely look at the man without having a full-blown nervous breakdown. Now I needed to sit through a dinner with him, as if none of that history existed, an entire chapter of my life blurred out.

  This was a personal emergency, but not an actual emergency, I told myself. We’d get through dinner and I’d find a reason to leave. I’d have to figure out how to deal with Daniel later, though the prospect of building a relationship with him seemed completely impossible now. I dried my face and tried to pull myself together before stepping out into the hallway. I could do this.

  I stepped out and the second I shut the door behind me, Mark was there.

  “Everything all right?” he murmured.

  His eyes were dark, almost black as he stalked closer. I stepped back, pressing my palms against the wall behind me. Panic shot through me. Every nerve stood on edge, ready to fight.

  “Stay away from me.” My voice was smal
l, betraying the fear that threatened to take me over. I was a puddle of fucking anxiety, not the fierce intimidating woman I needed to be to scare him off.

  “Or what?” He came close enough for me to feel his breath. “This is perfect, really. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

  He ran a finger from my knee to the hem of my dress lifting it a fraction. Every cell in my body came alive and adrenaline coursed through me like a lightning bolt. God help me, I wouldn’t be his victim again. I pushed him off with every ounce of my strength, shoving him into the opposite wall of the hallway.

  “Don’t ever fucking touch me again. Do you hear me?”

  An amused grin appeared on his face. I hurried to the dining room, no less flustered than when I’d left. This is the part where Daniel will think I’m a basket case.

  “Erica, are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel asked as I took a seat beside him.

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t eaten all day. I’m not feeling so well.”

  “Oh no, sweetheart, please eat!” Margo assembled a plate for me with all of the wonderful things I’d smelled earlier.

  Mark joined us, sitting across from me with the same smug smile on his face, looking undeterred. I stabbed some lettuce with my fork and forced the food into my mouth. My body was in panic mode, my appetite completely gone now.

  “Mark, Erica runs her own Internet company. Isn’t that impressive?” Daniel said.

  He regurgitated the details from our earlier conversation for Margo and Mark’s benefit, though I cringed knowing that he was simultaneously revealing critical details that Mark might use to reach out to me again. With his identity revealed, my own anonymity—maybe the only thing that had kept me safe from him—was gone.

  “And what do you do, Mark?” I asked. Two could play this game, though I couldn’t imagine wanting to seek him out for anything other than putting a hit on him.

  “I work at the firm with Daniel.”

  “Of course,” I said, smiling politely. How lucky for him, to rape and pillage his college years away and subsequently walk into a prime position at one of the largest firms in the city. Somehow I hated him more than I already did.

 

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