Binary

by Sarah Cole

  I let the emotion take control for a moment, “My father just committed suicide… I – I couldn’t stop him.”

  “Ma’am, I’m sending units out right away. Are you sure your father is deceased?” she asks.

  “I’m certain considering I’m wearing half of his brains right now!” I scream hysterically.

  “Ma’am please try and keep calm.”

  I roll my eyes, she’s got to be joking. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I say, ending the call. Shoving the phone back into my jeans pocket, I jog back inside and down the hallway to my father’s office. The heavy smell of blood fills the room as it pools beneath his face and coats the walls in glistening specks.

  “Floor boards and car,” I repeat my father’s words out loud to myself as I quickly roll back the worn kilim rug. Getting down on my hands and knees I knock on the wooden floor boards listening. When I don’t hear any differences, I take to pressing on them. I know I’m running out of time before there’s a full team of investigators in here. Suddenly, I remember the squeaky board by the doorway that has driven me insane for years. Returning the rug to its usual position, I crawl past my father’s cooling body to the doorway, and I press with all my weight until it squeaks. Discovering which board it is, I find a slight dip in the wood at the end and work it until I can wedge a fingertip underneath. I pull at it until it pops up enough to slide my hand inside. Cobwebs stick to my fingers as they search through nothingness until they find the nearest joist. I pry the board up just a little farther so I can slide my entire arm in the narrow space. I run my hand along the beam ignoring the splinters that dig under my fingertips.

  I’m about ready to give up when my finger grazes the edge of something. Reaching a little farther I curl my fingers tightly around the corner of what feels like a plastic bag and give it a good pull. It comes loose with little effort and I quickly withdrawal my hand about the time I hear approaching sirens. Standing quickly, I tuck the zipped bag down the front of my jeans and zip my sweatshirt up over the top, hiding everything. I hop quickly on the floorboard, pressing it back into place with a loud pop.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Three sharp raps sound on the glass door. “Seattle PD!” a voice calls, before the door flies open. I quickly drop my guard again to let the emotions flood back through me, “Quick! This way; he’s in here in his office!” I feel the hot tears spill down my face, and my fingers tremble as I reach up to wipe them away. I hate this. This feeling -this weakness.

  “Shit,” the cop says under his breath as he finally looks at me for the first time. His eyes widen, and I cross my arms protectively over my chest as he seems to finally gather himself enough to continue.

  “Your father?” he asks as I nod my head.

  “Why don’t you step outside? It sounds like the ambulance just arrived,” he says, ushering me outside with his hand on the small of my back. It slides just a little lower than is appropriate, and the urge to turn around and plant my knee in his ribcage is tremendous, but I hold back given the circumstances.

  He leads me outside, and immediately gets called over to another group of officers. I take the opportunity to run to the car and search, trying to remain discreet. After checking under the floormats and in the backseat, I open the glove box. Hidden underneath the manual, I find a small black handgun, and I understand. I’m going to need this. The weight is cold and heavy in my hand, and although foreign, it’s satisfying.

  “Ma’am…” another voice startles me out of my daze, and I turn over my shoulder to find another officer dragging Erik by the arm. “I know this isn’t an ideal time. I learned what has happened, and I apologize, but we found your brother in the middle of a raid. He was in a drug den, and he’s pretty out of it, but given the circumstances, I figured he’d need you more than the law right now. Just be sure he gets help before it’s too late.” He sends me a pointed look before releasing my brother’s arm and sending him towards me. His eyes are glazed over and I look to his arms to see the track marks marring the insides of them. If he’s already shooting up there, who knows how long he’s been doing his.

  He blinks at me incoherently before mumbling, “Happy birthday, Ani.” I wrap my arms tightly around him as we fall to the front porch, finding ourselves bathed in the same revolving red and blue lights that we did before on this day.

  “Anika!” a gruff voice startles me out of my head.

  “Hmm?” I hum in question, pressing my face against the cracked, shiny red upholstery and trying to ignore the tightness in my chest and the hot feeling of fury rippling through me.

  “I said you’re all set,” Pete says, as his tattooed knuckles toss me my shirt. “You ever going to tell me what all these numbers mean?” he asks, beating a pack of Marlboros against his hand.

  “I can’t give away all my secrets,” I say truthfully. Those lines of zeros and ones hold the darkest parts of my soul – my secrets and my sins. Words like whore, liar, and criminal, but that’s not the worst of it. He smiles and I know he’s not going to pry. Pete isn’t the type.

  “How much?” I ask, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the table. Quickly, I pull on my shirt and meet his gaze again.

  “On the house.” He smiles, tucking a cigarette between his lips.

  “No, Pete… what do I owe you?”

  “Told ya. It’s on the house. We’ll call it even for designing the shop’s website. It’s definitely attracted more customers.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. I’ll call you when I’m ready for the next line.”

  “You know the drill. Keep this on for a few hours, then mild soap, and Bacitracin or unscented lotion.”

  “You got it chief.” I salute before pulling my sweater on. “Thanks again.”

  “No thanks needed, pretty lady. Just tell ‘em where you got inked if they ask.”

  I grab my purse and walk to the reception desk where Trinity, Pete’s wife sits painting her nails. I slap a stack of hundreds on the desk in front of her, and watch as her eyes widen.

  “Oh, Anika. It’s on the house sweetie.” she smacks her gum.

  “That’s what Pete said, but please… take it. Take everyone out for drinks or something.” I smile and she shakes her head.

  “Girl, you know he’s not going to like it.”

  “Good thing, I’m not scared of him.” I wink and she lets out a cackle and slaps the desk, pulling the money across the counter.

  “See you next time!” she calls after me and I smile over my shoulder, heading out into the misty morning.

  I slide into the soft leather seat of my white BMW M3, and check the time noticing I have just over two hours until my interview. I use my drive home to mentally prepare myself for what’s to come, and I find my mouth twitching in humor. Carter Linwood is going to have no idea what hit him when I walk into that office today. I know who he is, and what he wants, but he has no idea who I am, and what I’ll do to him. Better yet, this cocky playboy has no idea what I want, or the lengths I’ll go through to protect what little control I have left.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Carter:

  My fingers steeple at my lip as my eyes scan the thick, expensive paper in front of me. Anika Borkova. Founder and CEO at Cultivate Design and Consulting LLC. Background in programing, web design and application architecture. She graduated summa cum laude and launched her company as a startup out of University of Washington six years ago. This candidate’s resume is impeccable, but the rational side of me holds reservation that she is a little green when it comes to Lintech. I suppose that is the very reason we need to diversify. Just as I type her name into the search bar on my computer, my desk phone rings.

  “Yes?” I answer, putting it on speaker.

  “Mr. Linwood. We have a Ms. Borkova here to meet with you. Also, Kline and Ms. Preston are out here waiting,” Leanne says, and I roll my eyes. Veronica Preston is my Director of Research and Development, and also a huge pain in my ass. She’s incapable of keeping her hands to
herself or her tits in a blouse. She’s too eager, too whiney, and definitely too desperate. Something tells me if she knew what I do to women she’d be running for the hills. Normally, it’d be her boss, Bill in here for this, but he’s on medical leave from a rock climbing incident.

  “Go ahead and send them in.” I end the call and stand to pull on my suit jacket.

  “Knock, knock,” Veronica’s shrill voice rings out as my door opens. Kline walks through the door behind her blatantly staring at her ass, and I find myself questioning how that’s appropriate HR conduct.

  “Come on in.” I gesture to the conference table in the corner of my office, and as I do so, the world stops turning for just a tick of the clock. Standing before me is perfection in a pair of black high waisted trousers and a crisp business-like button up blouse with delicate velvet trim. Although professional and stylish, she’s the sexiest fucking thing that’s ever walked through that door.

  I feel my lips turn up in a smile, and our eyes meet. Those blue catlike eyes that I’ve been trying to remember in great detail study me, putting me a little on edge. I expect there to be some sort of recognition, but if there is, she doesn’t show it at all. She smiles politely in greeting before holding out her hand, her blood red nails catch my attention, and what I wouldn’t give to feel those nails dig into my back as I pound into her wanting pussy. Not missing a beat, slide my hand into hers and wrap my fingers around hers squeezing gently, but she squeezes back firmly taking me by surprise. An electric thrill sends shivers up my spine in response.

  “Ms. Borkova.”

  Her name sounds like a dirty word coming from my mouth. “Carter Linwood. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I wink at her, but it seems to have little or no effect on her as I reluctantly release her hand, already having held on for far longer than appropriate.

  “Please, call me Anika, and the pleasure is mine. Thank you for having me.” She speaks with a clipped formality that I didn’t pick up on that morning in the coffee shop. It could be because she barely spoke two words to me, but now hearing her low raspy voice leaves me wanting more.

  “Why don’t we have a seat and get started?” Veronica interrupts our exchange as she gestures to the table. She looks uncomfortable, and I like it.

  I pull out Anika’s chair so she can sit and I don’t miss the withering look that Veronica sends her, but I choose to ignore it for now.

  “Anika,” I say, her name rolling off my tongue like silk. Her name suits her, I think. “Tell us a little bit about yourself.”

  She clears her throat and swipes her long, neatly curled dark hair over her shoulder, exposing the slender neck that I can picture putting a collar and a leash on and wrapping my fingers around. “I am the founder and CEO of Cultivate Design. We’re a small web design and consulting firm based out of Seattle. I graduated from University of Washington with dual majors in Computer Science and Engineering and Human Centered Design and Engineering.”

  “Impressive. What made you want to go into tech?” Kline asks before I get a chance to ask my next question. I clench my fists, wanting her full attention and cursing the fact that I have to share it at all.

  She turns her head to him and smiles, and I see him visibly loose his train of thought under the weight of her direct attention. I’ve been on the receiving end of that intensity, so I understand it. “I have always loved technology and solving problems. I began coding basic loops as a child for fun, and it evolved. As I grew, I became more interested in varying aspects of technology and how it directly impacts peoples’ lives. I like to know what makes people tick.” As she says the last part she glances my direction and I feel my dick harden in my slacks as she wets her lips intentionally. Only the slight twitch of her lips gives away any indication at all that she is affected by me at all.

  “Why do you want to work at Lintech? What do you think you can bring to the table that we couldn’t find in house?” Veronica jumps in next.

  Ignoring the bite to her tone, Anika smiles at Veronica, but her eyes burn into her like she wants to light her on fire. “Perspective.”

  “Oh, come on. That can’t be all there is. We’re going to need more from you than that.” Veronica forces a fake laugh, and looks to me to join in, but I ignore her.

  “You’re quite right, Ms. Preston. That isn’t all there is. I could toot my own horn all day long about my long list of accomplishments and my broad array of skills, but I won’t because that is pointless. That’s all listed on my resume for anyone who can read. My work speaks for itself. I code, I develop, I design, I invent, engineer and administrate. I can do it all, but that isn’t what is going to secure my position at Lintech. What will secure my position, is my desire to share my skills and leverage them to help the greater good and enable a fascinating business to do the unimaginable. Instead of saying all of that, I chose the word perspective.

  I bring a new and fresh perspective. Over the years I’ve worked with countless clients that use Lintech’s technologies, and I see how they apply it in their lives and in their businesses. I know what the end users want, and better yet, I know why and what drives them. I’ve spent years studying people, why they do the things they do, why they want things a certain way, and what is important to them in life and business. I feel like once you become fully immersed in an organization for any length of time, you lose that basic connection. I have that, and I have ideas on how to make things at Lintech better, more profitable and more marketable to not only businesses, but the masses. That is why I want to work here, and that is what I bring to the table.” She finishes and I just want to stand up and fucking slow clap for this woman. First and foremost, for a perfect answer, and secondly for wiping that smug ass look from Veronica’s surgically enhanced face.

  Over the next hour, the three of us ask Anika every question you could possibly ask an interviewee, and although skeptical at first, I’m now ready to either hire her on the spot, or tie her the fuck up and possess every inch of her.

  “Kline, Veronica – If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a few moments to speak with Ms. Borkova alone,” I say, standing.

  “Surely, we’ve covered everything, Carter. No need to keep the poor girl here longer than necessary. You have meetings,” Veronica replies, like she has any say at all.

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Surely you have work to do. When your name is on the outside of the building, then you can dictate my schedule,” I respond curtly. Her face turns red in frustration, and I swear I see the barest of smiles form on Anika’s face before being quickly erased. Kline shakes his head and motions for Veronica to follow him.

  “Close the door behind you please,” I say and wince slightly when Veronica slams the heavy door, with more force than is necessary.

  “We meet again…” I say heading over to the mini bar. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m on edge around her and I need something that I’m sure she won’t give me in the next ten minutes.

  “We do. What a small world,” she offers, watching me closely.

  “Want something?” I hold up the crystal decanter.

  “No, thank you. I rarely drink – dulls my senses,” she responds.

  I swirl the amber liquid around the tumbler, and take a seat next to her at the table. The warm smell of her perfume fills the short distance between us, and I find myself leaning closer, unable to get close enough.

  “So, Anika, tell me a little more about yourself.” She adjusts the velvet trim on her shirt cuff and my mind flashes to the black velvet ropes I so badly want to tie her up with.

  “I believe we already covered that, Mr. Linwood,” she rasps in that husky voice of hers, and the way she uses my name like a weapon against me deepens my need to own every inch of her.

  “We did, but I mean beyond your accomplishments. What are your interests?”

  Her eyebrows raise slightly, “Is this a job interview or a date?”

  “This is most definitely a job interview, but if you’re willing…”
>
  “I’m not,” she cuts me off, seeming unamused by my advances.

  I guess I’m just going to have to wear her down…

  Anika:

  Date? No. If he’d offered to lay me out on this meeting table and fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight, I might reconsider. Because I wish he would. For some unexplainable reason, my body wants what he’s offering, but my head won’t let me have it.

  “Ok, an interview only then,” he concedes with a shrug of his shoulders and a mischievous smile playing at his lips, and I can’t help but to smile back. “I just like to know who I’m hiring, so if you don’t mind, let me get to know you.”

  “To be fair, a person’s interests rarely reveal who they really are. But if you insist… I enjoy reading and exercising. I also like to work. I don’t do well with idleness.”

  “Ah, so we have a few things in common then,” he says lightly, running his fingers through his light brown stylish hair.

  He studies me for a moment, his eyes never straying from my face for once, before he speaks. “I have three other candidates to interview.”

  I don’t say anything, sensing he isn’t finished with his thought. “But I don’t want to interview them…”

  “Carter…” I say using his name for the first time and catching his attention. His eyes burn with a hunger that my body reciprocates. I like how it feels.

  “Don’t. Just hear me out.”

  I gesture with both hands for him to go ahead.

  “Am I attracted to you? Yes, but I can keep it professional. I don’t mix business with pleasure.” The way he says pleasure has my thighs clenching, wondering just what he could do with that attraction because I know that this man is lying. His mouth is telling me one thing, but his eyes and the bulge in his slacks is telling me something entirely different.

  He continues, “But I trust my gut more than anything. You’re obviously brilliant and driven, and I want you. I know what I want, and I get it. I want you at Lintech.”