I don’t want to merely be her lover and a joke to her.
I want more. I want all. I want her respect.
And I’d do anything to have it.
That pussy is mine, yes, but what good is that if there’s no heart and especially no mind attached? She said she won’t break anymore. Why am I the only one falling apart?
I drive off and once home, lock myself in my room.
Jason will be back soon, and he can report back to Dad whatever he wants.
I flip open my laptop, make the next step on my favorite invention—my most ambitious one yet.
It’s probably never going to be plausible—never going to actually work, but it means a lot to me. It controls my destiny and sends the message to the assholes of the world that they can’t run this planet with tyranny. There are enough dickheads like Dad running around, and they need to be stopped.
I put in my flash drive—wipe all my files off my hard drive just in case.
I’m sure Dad monitors this shit, but he probably hasn’t figured out what this little box does yet that I’ve created in my schematics.
It’s small, it’s black, it’s ballsy like Dena. It represents her to the core—and symbolizes the way I want to fuck up this world I now live in.
When I’m done with my newest additions to my box of shadows, I lie down, grip my cock and pull up my video I have of her touching herself from weeks ago.
So beautiful, and so powerful.
“Love me—be my bitch,” I groan as I unzip and pull it out.
I stroke over the swollen head, watch the bead dew up and collect at the tip.
“Lick it off for me, sweetheart,” I say, imagining her tongue slipping over it and enjoying my taste. “Ignore the germs, and savor the taste of my come. It’s all for you.”
I tug at the tip several times in quick jerks.
Her voice is in my head, her little moans slicing through my resolve to stay away from her.
She doesn’t want me.
If she did, she would . . . Fuck, she was honest, asshole. She never lies. She told you what she thought about you, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t care or want you.
I can’t fault her for saying exactly what she thinks about me.
I call her my bitch, my dirty girl, and I’m sure she hates all of it. I talk about her pussy being mine, her cunt waiting for my dick and mine alone.
I keep yanking it, but I’m getting nowhere. This boiling mad heat inside me grows, but there’s only pain and frustration. I want her hand on me. Her mouth, not my shitty fingers roughly manipulating my dick into coming.
“Aaaaaagh!” I groan, pull my hand off and sit up, grabbing shit off my nightstand and chucking it across the room.
I strip out of my clothes and scream, “Deeeeenaaaaa! Stop hurting me like this!”
I pick up my laptop, smash it into the wall, and when it’s in pieces, I drop to my knees and pull out my flash drive.
One idea left. I’ve just obliterated the rest. If I was Ides, would I care?
Nope.
The fact is, I’m not her. I care desperately, and there’s a reason I can’t take being away from her.
I have to see her.
I’ll try harder, and I’ll turn this invention into something groundbreaking she can be proud of.
I’ll be worthy of her if it kills me, and if it kills my dad, too.
She’s worth it.
Chapter 15
Ides
I don’t trust Ty. I haven’t heard back from him yet, and the cobra hasn’t been activated either. Besides, Nick’s already pulling dangerous maneuvers I can’t allow.
I take a deep breath, and before I sit down, I sanitize the seat with a wipe and then slather it in hand sanitizer.
I dry it off with the towel I brought along. When I’m done, I put it back in my backpack that was checked at the front desk.
My heart races when I finally sit down.
Already I’m clutching at the seams of my pants and wishing I could flee.
A breeze wafts in, and I bite the edge of my tongue.
Two men approach me, and one of them is the dark man from my past I wish I’d never known . . .
The one in the orange takes a seat across from me.
“Dad,” I say as a mirror image of my eyes stare at me.
“Dena, I . . . I wasn’t sure you got my letters,” he says, blinking back at me, his face pale and his voice soft.
His hands stretch out on the table before me.
“I got them, and I’m here. I know you hate me, but I had to come,” I tell him.
He holds his breath and then exhales in a rush. “I don’t hate you at all. God, Jesus, I . . . I was a shitty father to you, and I regret that every single day. How was I ever supposed to face you after I tried to kill you?”
“You and I both know if you’d wanted to kill me, you would’ve. Your bullet missed me on purpose.” I lean back in my chair to create a little bit of distance.
“Well, you know I do have good aim, but I was . . . Hell, I don’t know what I was. I just knew the cops were coming, and it was your fault.”
“Yeah, it was my fault I called them, but it was your fault you were stealing my ideas and selling them off. Wasn’t it enough I was already allowing you to skim off the top?”
“You knew?” His eyes grow large.
“Of course I knew. I monitored my money and yours.” I cross my arms over my chest and look away. This feels like a monumental mistake. I shouldn’t have come.
Just as I’m about to push up off my chair and leave, he turns one hand over and there’s a chip sitting in his cupped palm.
“What’s this?” I lean forward, dropping my arms to my sides.
“It’s a chip. I made it for you. It’ll keep you safe,” he says, and his eyes lie.
“Bullshit. You didn’t make this.” My fingers flex, and my chest flares with vehemence.
He chuckles and swipes his other hand over his face. “Okay, I didn’t make it, but it’ll keep you safe, regardless.”
“From whom?”
He settles his weight onto the edge of his seat. “From a very bad man that wants to hurt you, and I’d really like to help, but since I’m stuck in here, this is the best I can do.”
“From whom?” I repeat.
“Jesus, Dena, I can’t tell you that. It’ll only put you in more danger,” he says, then smacks his lips closed for a second. “Will you just take it?”
“I’ve got pepper spray and a bottle of sanitizer. What more could I want?” My nostrils flare.
“Pepper spray is great when a stray dog is chasing you down the street. These people not only bark, they bite, and when they do, you won’t be able to recover. Please . . .” His eyes tear up. “I can’t lose you. And this is the only way I know how to redeem myself and say sorry.”
“I don’t need you to say sorry, I just need you to be my dad,” I say, my voice wavering, thick with emotion.
“Please, take it.” He shoves his palm toward me.
“No.”
“Fuck Nick, then. I’ll flush this thing he made down my toilet after I piss on it!” he says through his teeth.
Nick?
In a flash, I’ve got it in my hand, and I’ve swallowed it down.
His eyes go wide, and he gasps.
I stand up and swwwwwwaaaack! I slap him so hard his neck makes this creaking sound when his head whips back.
“Fuck you! Don’t you ever say his name or speak to him again!” I smack him once more and leave before I say something stupid like I hope he rots in his cell or before a guard comes after me.
As I drive off, I wonder why in the fuck I even came here.
I knew Nick visited him. Just wanted to see for myself.
I saw it in Nick’s files, the letter he composed that my dad obviously transcribed into his own handwriting and sent to me.
Bastard, Gregory!
Tears race down my cheeks, and once I’m home, I’m restless.
/> Riot’s been avoiding me in my home ever since I sent him away the day Nick tore my door off my home office.
I step inside and find Riot on the couch, his hands clasped together and resting on his lap.
“You saw your dad, didn’t you? You only get that devastated look in your eyes when you’ve been around him.” He studies my face.
“Yeah, I did,” I say, sounding out of breath.
“Why?”
“He had contact with Nick. I want to protect them both.” I shuffle past him to get to the kitchen. I’m thirsty as hell.
“I don’t get you—both of these men have done nothing but hurt you, yet you push me away, when all I’ve done is tried to love you and treat you well. I mean, goddamn, Nick assaulted me, and you forgave him and even had sex with him right after. I should be pissed as hell at you, but for some stupid reason, I’m not. I can’t ever be angry with you.”
I double over, clutch my knees and take in a long, winded breath. “I think we need to get you out of here. You’re not safe.”
“Ides! I’m fucking talking to you about us!” he yells.
“There is no us! How many times do I have to tell you this?” I holler back.
“There would be if you’d stop this!”
I grab his leather jacket, slung over the back of the chair next to me and throw it at him. “Put this on. We’re leaving. We can’t stay here. We can talk about this in the car!”
He’s motionless, and his jaw pops open. “This place is a fortress. There’s no possible way Nick can get in anymore. Why the hell would we leave?”
“Because I swallowed a goddamn chip Nick made, and who fucking knows what it’s going to do! I don’t want you getting hurt because of this.” I choke on several sobs until he’s off the couch, and he’s pulled me into his arms.
I beat at his chest, pushing him away. “No! No! I won’t!”
“Dena, c’mon. I’m not gonna do anything,” he says, his voice low and soft.
“I can’t . . . I love him, and I can’t live without him anymore. I want him to find me. I want to run out in the street and scream until he takes me away from this.” I fist his shirt and tuck my head into him so he can’t see the anguished faces I’m making.
“Okay . . . We’ll go wherever you want.”
He pets my hair.
“We’ll go to San Diego. I have a few friends there, and then we need to split from each other. I need to go into serious hiding, and I’ll be moving around a lot. I think this is the best way,” I ramble.
Snot drips down my upper lip, and I snort a laugh. Nick would’ve taken care of that for me if he was here, but he’s not.
And now he won’t ever find me. Riot has no idea how to care for me and deal with all my shit I carry on my shoulders.
“I’ll go have my stomach pumped first, and then we’ll leave.” I sniff.
“We need to get that chip out of you now,” he says.
“I know. Urgent Care?” I ask.
“No, I can get it out of you,” he replies.
“I’m not going to force myself to puke.” I pull away.
His arms stay extended, his hands resembling claws.
I shudder at the thought I allowed him touch me.
Not only could he be covered in germs, but he’s not Nick, and I simply can’t bear it.
I need my Vapor.
I need his touch, his voice in my ear.
I need Riot gone.
“Don’t do this . . .” His face drops as I back away. “I want to help.”
“Are you going to hurt me to get this thing out?”
“No. Well, I don’t know if it’ll hurt, but there’s something I’ve been working on, and oddly enough, I think it’ll do what we need it to.” He grins sheepishly.
“What is it?”
“Let me show you,” he says, leading me over to his workstation of sorts.
I’ve relegated a section of the living room over to him so he could work in peace.
I never pry, but if he wants to show me something, I’m happy to see it and give feedback.
“It’s kind of a mini, metal detector,” he says, smiling wider, beaming at me. “I created it so . . .”
“So if I walk into your shop with my slimboy, you know I’ve got it in my pocket,” I say, filling in the end of his sentence.
He blinks and nods, but his head barely moves.
“Sorry . . . I’m not trying to undermine you, but it’s . . . Well, it’s about supply and demand in the business.”
I take a deep breath. “It’s fine. I do get it. No hurt feelings here.” I stare at the small metal object, no bigger than a bottle cap.
“It’s attracted to microchips and microprocessors, and it’s even got a magnetic pull on it. I can strengthen the intensity so it can make the chip inside you come back up.”
“That sounds incredibly painful.” I grimace.
His head snaps back, and he gives me an incredulous look. “And what? Getting your stomach pumped is going to be a picnic on a wonderful spring day? That shit’s gonna hurt just as badly. You shouldn’t have swallowed it.” He hands me his piece. “For all you know the thing’s poisoned as well.”
“Give me a break. Why would it be poisoned?” I throw my hands up for a moment and then let them fall. I get back to the point—“What’s it called?”
“It’s called the Ides of Time.” He snickers.
I laugh and swipe it out of his hand. “Get a new name, you silly man, ‘cause even I know that’s kinda morbid.”
He covers his mouth as he chuckles and takes a seat.
“Okay, settle it over your stomach, and it should probably be object-to-skin.”
“You’re just trying to get me naked,” I say, quirking a brow at him.
“Maybe.” He shrugs with an arrogant grin.
“Fix the intensity of the pull, then I’ll turn around and slip it inside my shirt.” I jerk my chin at his equipment.
He bites his lip at the corner and tries to hide his smile.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I chuckle.
“Maybe,” he repeats.
His belly bounces with a silent laugh.
“Fucker—I need this out,” I say, kicking the couch next to his leg.
“All right, all right. Patience . . .” He types in a few commands a moment later and tells me it’s ready.
I turn around, put it under my shirt, and it’s the oddest sensation to feel this tugging inside my gut. Even stranger is the pull on the Ides of Time as I move it in a northerly direction. It’s like playing with a Ouija board—like some unseen specter is directing it.
A few seconds later, I’m choking the microchip back up. And as soon as it’s out, I gag out a, “Oh, fuck! That’s gross!”
I go running through the house with a glob of mucous on my hand, surrounding a chip.
I drop it in the sink as I proceed to vomit right next to it.
Riot’s hand juts, out and he snatches the chip up.
“Don’t take it!” I screech through bouts of throwing up so forcefully, I can barely breathe.
“I’m just cleaning it up,” he says, voice filled with innocence and shock at my territorialism about it.
He stays at my side, does as he said he would, and then sets it on the counter next to me.
I proceed to bark out orders, and he follows them implicitly.
After brushing my teeth twice, using mouthwash and then a vinegar rinse, I can stop gagging and retching.
“Thank you,” I manage to whimper as I head to my room with the chip inside my fist.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles, but it’s tight, and he looks lost.
Well, shitty monkey balls. I can’t deal with that look, so I lock myself up in my room.
It’s gonna be a long night as I unravel the contents of this chip.
I’ve already been trying to figure out how I’ll move his other mind-bending invention into the public’s eye.
And I though
t my brain never ceased going a hundred-miles an hour. His creations are much more detailed and involved and so thoughtful it takes my breath away.
Mine are kids toys compared to his.
This chip though . . . What can he want with this?
* * *
“You look like you’ve had an all-nighter in hell,” Ty says, smiling.
“Shut up. You have no idea what I’ve been through the last few days. That man has a mind unrivaled by . . . Well, I don’t know. My brain’s mush at this point. I’ve been trying to break into its secrets, but he’s got this sucker so tied shut, it’s damn near impossible.” I yawn and rub my sore eyes.
“Take a break. You deserve it. Stephen’s been pissing and whining about the weasel and how it just can’t break the cobra. So, you’ve done it.”
“I’ve done part of it,” I correct him. “It’s not over yet. I’ve cut through his defenses, but I’m not ready for my actual plan of attack yet. Riot’s been psycho lately. I need to get rid of him.”
“Kick him out,” he says, staring at me like this is a simple math equation.
“I can’t do that. He’s too domesticated now. He won’t survive in the wild.” I take a deep, chest aching breath. “Besides, I owe him, even if he has fucked me over several times. He’s done more good than bad, and I’m not going to ignore the things that should be honored. He’s a good guy at heart, just a little misguided at times. I’m planning on taking him to San Diego and dropping him off there. Can you help me out?”
He flashes those teeth at me, and I want to barf immediately. God, lasers can’t cut through that yellow coating on his teeth. He should keep them permanently hidden behind those lips of his. They’re big enough.
“Of course I can. My ex-girlfriend lives there, and she’s got tons of hacker friends in the area. What’re you looking for?”
I shrug my left shoulder, all energy drained from my body. “A woman in the scene. She needs to be smart, cute, funny. Riot needs a companion.”
“Since when are you into the dating service?”
“I’m not, but he’s not gonna let me go unless he has someone else. He thinks he’s in love with me. After working for me for almost a year, I’ve somehow made him a little screwed up in the head, too.” I slump against the wall and yawn.
Slick as Ides Page 19