by Maya Hughes
“Now let me show you what happens when you’re listening skills aren’t up to snuff,” he said. And he showed me throughout most of the night. It was a night of sensual torture where he made sure I remembered all his rules. But I don’t think it worked because I was already tempted to break them again.
14
KILLIAN
Me: Did you make it home ok?
I pushed the phone away from me in disgust. It slid across the table, teetering on the edge. Why was I checking in on her again? But the minute the notification pinged on my screen I picked it up.
Rachel: Yes, thank you.
I stared at her response for a long time. It seemed curt. Like she was dismissing me. And now I’m analyzing her text messages like a chick.
Me: Good
The second ticked by as I tried to think of another response. Something that wouldn’t seem forced. I didn’t even start to type anything because I didn’t want her to see the bubble pop up that let her know I was typing. My fingers hovered over the screen when a message popped up.
Rachel: Sorry, I was in a meeting. It was close, but I made it home and into work on time.
The length of her response shouldn’t have made me happy, but it did. I squeezed the tight muscles at the back of my neck as I fixated on what every word meant. Locking my phone, I set it down and went for a run. She was off limits for at least another twenty-four hours.
I stared at my phone in the cup holder of the treadmill at the gym. The black screen taunted me. Not a word from her. Weren’t chicks supposed to be needy about things like this? Weren’t they supposed to crack first? A woman in spandex stepped onto the treadmill next to me and gave me a flirty smile. I just glared and went back to my phone. In the locker room as I changed, I sent a message.
Me: If you were almost late getting to work after coming to my place, next time you should bring a bag.
I slammed my head against the lockers. What the fuck did I just do? Invited her to bring her stuff over to my place? We had sex once and I lost my mind. I typed out a message saying to just forget that.
Rachel: That’s a great idea. I’ll be sure to remember for next time.
Relief washed over me. Then anger and disgust at myself. There was only one reason she was with me. I glanced down at the towel around my waist. Okay, maybe two reasons.
When would next time be? I’d promised myself a week. This was a game we were playing. This wasn’t anything other than that and the fact that she didn’t seem to care one way or another confirmed that to me. A little rich girl having her walk on the wild side. I could tell by the way she spoke. The way she walked. I’d seen enough kids like her in high school. Hell, Frankie was a girl like her. Rachel probably had a guy like Rhys on the line, ready to run back to once she had her fun. Even though she fit the type, I couldn’t help it. I still wanted her.
Rachel: Any idea when that might be?
I didn’t respond. I knew if I did I’d have said ‘right now’.
I got up and paced my office, staring out the windows overlooking the city. So many women out there. So many that I’d been with and getting one out of my mind was never an issue before. I tried to chalk it up to her connection with Thayer, but I knew that wasn’t it.
I waited as long as I could. I told myself not to call her. Not to pick up the phone and tap on her name. It had only been a few days since the night I fell asleep with her in my arms. Eighty hours to be exact, but who’s counting? I needed to hear her voice.
The urge to call her was overwhelming and I needed to get it under control. Indulge it and then move on. That had always been my way before, why not now? Maybe I needed to indulge in something outside the bedroom and then she wouldn’t haunt my dreams anymore.
The details of the final hostile takeover landed on my desk. It looked like the company decided to swallow a poison pill rather than allow me to take it over. I’d have to find a way to work around them.
She picked up on the second ring, sounding out of breath.
“Hey, what’s going on?” She sounded like she was walking on a busy street. Car horns and people talking filled the background.
“Where are you?” I asked, hating that I even wanted to know. But I did. I wanted to know everything about her.
“I’m out.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, the concern shining through, even over the phone.
“Nothing, just work stuff.” I didn’t need to get her enmeshed into my life any more than I already had.
“What kind of work stuff? Hostile takeover?” she asked. I glanced around my office, like I’d see her there watching over my shoulder.
“How did you know?”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you. I can’t really see you strolling into another company all sunshine and rainbows, looking to sing around a campfire with any company you’re doing business with.” I pictured her smiling face as she said it.
“Sounds about right. So, what do you suggest I do?” I asked.
“It’s a poison pill, isn’t it?” Had she bugged my office?
“How did you know?” She was more than she seemed. She had been in circles where she knew what this was, so why was she working as an assistant? My mind kept coming back to that. What was in all of this for her?
“I figure it would be the best way to hold you off. Let all the current shareholders buy up a lot of stock at a discount to keep you from getting the majority, right?”
“Exactly.” Again, she was working as an assistant? Why?
“Why not pretend to be a white knight?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to have some company out there you are only slightly involved in, who could swoop in and pretend they are willing to bail this company out, but on much nicer terms than I’m sure you’re offering,” she said. Her voice was muffled and it sounded like she was ordering something. She came up with this when she was out running errands. I had MBA grads in my office who couldn’t have come up with something like this.
“Continue…” This could be a good idea. I usually preferred to brute force my way into things, but I didn’t mind a little finesse.
“You’ll end up paying a bit more for the company, but they will be so relieved that it’s not you buying it, that I’m sure they would jump for it. Then you get to take off your sheep’s clothing and bam, you’ve got the company.”
“Look at this devious side of you. Are you sure you don’t want to come and work for me?”
She laughed. “No, thank you. I see how you operate. I’d much rather stick to helping people.” That smarted a little.
“You don’t think I help people?”
“I’m sure you do. You help their bank accounts. I have to go.”
She ended the call before I could say anything. I couldn’t hold back anymore. We texted throughout the day about everything from our favorite movies growing up to our shared dislike for anything with raisins in it. I’d never shared this much about myself with any woman before. I told myself it was all part of the game. Lulling her into a false sense of security, so she would let her guard down.
Rachel: I’m out. I’ve got to pick up a dress from the store for the gala next week and then get everything together for babysitting Rhys’s daughter.
And there we had it. Vindication. She was spilling details she probably shouldn’t, but just then I was planning our next meeting.
Killian: Sounds like you’re doing a lot after hours. Do I need to tell you to take a break?
Rachel: It’s fine. I’m good. And don’t you dare. I have work to do. I’m heading onto the train, so I might lose reception. Talk to you soon.
“What’s with the goofy smile?” Grim asked, eyeballing the waitress as she left our table. I snapped my lips together and put my phone screen down on the table. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. I had a feeling it happened a lot of the times I texted her and that annoyed me to no end.
One of the things I prided myself on was that I never needed a
woman for more than a few hours. Whether it was an industry event, fundraiser, my private room in Ace’s, I didn’t feel the urge to text and call and find out about her day. With Rachel, it was different. I was different. I wasn’t in control. She was chipping away at every bit of resolve I had and each time I left her it was harder than the last.
Once I broke down and text her, I hadn’t been able to go more than twelve hours without texting her and I knew because I’d set a damn timer on my phone. The longest I’d made it was nine hours and twelve minutes.
“Nothing,” I said, leaning back against the high leather back of the booth and taking a gulp of my drink. I savored the sweet burn as it made its way down my throat.
“It’s not nothing and you know it. Is grumpy old Kill softening up? Maybe warming up to a woman? I thought I’d never see that happen,” he teased, chuckling and taking a swig from his beer.
Leave it to Grim to order a beer, without a glass, in a place like this. He didn’t care if there were linen table cloths and at least two Michelin stars attached to the place. He’d probably put his feet up on the table if he had enough beers.
“It’s nothing. It’s a project I’m working on. She’s helping me with it. And I’m helping her.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. Helping her right into a bed that’s not at your place and then right out the door of said establishment. Does Frankie know you use her place like a moneyless brothel?” he asked, surveying the patrons at the restaurant. His security background meant it was hard to turn off his powers of observation. Always on the job, even when he wasn’t.
“She owns a sex club, I’m pretty sure she knows what goes on there.” I sliced into the medium rare steak the waitress slid in front of me.
“But does she know how much of her female clientele turnover is because of you?” he asked, shoving at least half the steak into his mouth.
“I’m sure she does. Her little cameras are everywhere. She obviously feels that keeping me on is good business sense.”
“Or she’s too good of a friend to kick you out,” he said, devouring his entire steak in the time it took me to get through a quarter of mine. Grim set his knife and fork down on the table. “Does she really watch her customers have sex?” he asked, staring at me intently. Grim had never been to the club. Frankie forbid him from ever setting foot in there. Ever since high school, the two of them had been like oil and water. One dance and that was it. Neither would ever tell me what happened.
“Why so much interest in the club? It’s been open for years and you’ve never tried to go there.”
He shrugged his shoulders, picked up his knife and fork, and cut into the second steak he’d ordered. When you were built like the hulk, no one batted an eyelash when you ordered two twelve ounce steaks.
“Just curious to what our kinky Frankie is up to,” he said, keeping his head down, as he ran his hand over the rope cuff tied around his wrist he always wore.
“You know as well as I do that kinky is not the word I’d use to describe her. She stays in her perch and only watches.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she does like to have that power over people. Restrained and in control, always.”
“I still don’t understand what happened with you two.”
“You of all people should know exactly how things can go sideways when it comes to high school friendships.” He raised his eyebrow at me.
“I’m pretty sure the shit that when down between Rhys and I is nothing like what went down between you and Frankie.”
“Yeah, probably. I doubt you were making out with Rhys back in high school,” he said, twisting the hemp rope cuff on his wrist.
“If it matters, she still has that corsage you gave her.”
“What?” he rasped, a wheezing sound came from across the table, as Grim choked on his food. He thumped on his chest, finally dislodging whatever was in there. That’s what happens when you try to eat a cow whole. His eyes watered and he gulped from his water glass, holding it with both hands.
“She does?” he asked, in a strained, wheezy voice.
“She does,” I said, staring at him intently. “If she hadn’t confirmed to me that you didn’t screw her and run, I’d have beaten the shit out of you years ago.”
He cleared his throat, picking up his knife and fork before setting them down. “I’m done man.” His black hair flopped across his forehead as he pushed his plate away. For someone in security, it always surprised me he didn’t stick with the high and tight haircut. He told me it was so he blended in more. I think it was because he didn’t like to be reminded of his short stint in the overseas work he did in the past.
“What happened? She remains tight lipped as ever and I was kicked out of school before it all went down.”
“It’s nothing, man. Nothing that wouldn’t have happened eventually anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
“I would like to have the two of you in the same room at some point in the next decade, without you being at each other’s throats.”
“That’s totally up to her,” he said, taking a slug from his drink and toying with the leather and rope cuff on his wrist.
“You know it’s not. You needle her every chance you get.”
“Maybe I’d rather have that than have nothing,” he said, absently, picking at the label on his beer. Whatever happened back in high school was marked off limits by the two of them long ago, but I still didn’t get it. I opened my mouth to say something when he followed it up with something that shut me up. “I’m glad to see a woman has finally been able to tame the insanity you’ve got going on. It’s nice to see you happy, man. Not so tense, not too fixated on Rhys,” he said, glancing over at the approaching waitress, who set down another set of drinks.
An anvil sized realization hit me. I hadn’t seen Frankie since I left the club that night. I hadn’t followed up with anything about Rhys. From the moment I left the club with Rachel, I’ve been so fixated on her that I haven’t done anything I needed to do to execute my plan. I’d been focused on the final merger, on analyzing her texts and our phone conversations. I’d been sidetracked with my plan. Her distraction wasn’t something I needed. I needed to stay focused.
Grim paid the check and we left the restaurant. Our breath coming out in puffs as we stepped into the frigid air. We said our goodbyes and Grim headed off in the other direction. My phone rang and I answered the unknown number.
“A collect call from San Quentin Correctional Facility…” The same recording I’d ignored for weeks.
“I accept the call.”
15
KILLIAN
The dreariness of the landscape reflected exactly what everyone felt, as the line moved forward, one equally stone faced person at a time. The metal bars slid open and I stepped into the chain link fence-lined walkway. There was a loud buzzer and then the metal door swung open. This gloom hung over me the entire week, knowing I’d be visiting.
I took everything out of my pockets, checking it in at the desk. I’d learned over the years not to bring anything in I didn’t want “lost.” I dropped my wallet with almost nothing in it and my phone into the plastic bin then I stepped through another set of metal doors. Flecks of the beige paint and plaster from the walls littered the floor. I could taste the metal in the air. I hated coming here. I hated it more than anything, but it was my duty. The visits were less frequent since I moved to the other side of the country and that was my only reprieve, but I flew over on this day every year.
The visitor’s room was filled with other families, greeting their loved ones at bright blue tables with the stools attached to them. Now there was a term I used lightly because I didn’t have an ounce of love for the man I visited. There were little kids, sullen teenagers, and older people in their own little worlds in this room, trying to pretend this was all completely normal. It wasn’t, but it was my normal. I’d been coming here since my sophomore year of high school.
“Thorne,” the guard called out, as the group ahead of me le
ft for their table. My dad sat on the far edge of the beige and concrete room at a table bolted to the floor. His face was drawn and gaunt. Nothing like how he looked when he showed up on our doorstep when I was sixteen. Had I known then what I knew now, I’d have shut the door in his face and never opened it again.
He looked a lot more haggard than the last time I saw him. It wasn’t like prison had a great health plan to keep you fit. He had his hands clasped in front of him on the table, deep creases in his forehead, his gaze darkening as he glared at me, impatient as ever.
“Killian,” he groused as I slid onto the stool that was attached to the table.
“Dad,” I said, folding my hands in front of me, resting them on the dented and dinged table.
“You finally decided to come visit your old man, huh?”
“I don’t live on the west coast anymore, Dad,” I said, using all my power to keep my leg from bouncing. He’d smell the weakness, always did.
“Well then I guess it’s quite an honor to have you show here for my birthday,” he said, his voice like gravel and nails in a tumbler.
“With interactions like this it’s a wonder I don’t visit more often,” I said, my temper rising. I clenched my hands into fists, but kept them solidly on the table.
“Don’t you forget why I’m here. All the dirty work I did for the Thayers before they went soft. I did this to protect your legacy, boy. To make sure you got what you deserved,” he said, his fists banging on the table. One of the guards stepped forward and my father relaxed his hands, spreading them on the table. You’d think after all these years he’d learn. But like father like son, I’d ended up dealing with the same shit he shoveled for years.
“Yes, I know. You remind me every single time I visit. Funny, I don’t remember ever asking you to do any of that shit for me. I don’t remember caring one bit about the legacy you were leaving for me,” I said, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw ached.
“It’s done and now you owe me. What would your mother have wanted?” He twisted that knife oh so well. Digging it in deep until I could feel the blood pouring from my gut. My mother’s suicide note always used to get me to do exactly what he wanted.