Authors: Chanse Lowell,K. I. Lynn,Lynda Kimpel
I just want to watch her for as long as possible since this is all I have.
She pays for her groceries, and this time, she’s got a different color cloth grocery bags she’s using that she brought from home.
I try to remember the last ones—I wasn’t paying that close of attention.
Green. Oh, I get it.
I chuckle deep in my belly.
Green for produce.
Now red, for bloody meat.
God, she’s sick. I love it.
And why the ever-loving fuck did she make two separate trips? Was it because she knew she was being watched before?
If that’s the case, wouldn’t she be too spooked to come back again?
She smears some sanitizer on her hands, pays for her goods and leaves.
All at once, adrenaline rushes through me as I realize she’s about to be out of my life again for an extended period of time.
She’s in her car, buckled up, and my gut clenches so hard, I’m almost crippled by it. A second later I step in front of her car and slam my hands on the hood.
She stares at me through the windshield, gawking.
I stare back, unblinking and silent, only conveying with my expression how I feel.
I miss you.
I want you.
I die inside for you.
Why can’t you love me?
I love you more than anything . . .
Stop hurting me this way!
My palms make a hideous noise as I slide them off her hood, then I slowly step away and head back over to my bike.
Her car sits idle, and I can feel her eyes on me as I drive off, leaving a piece of my soul there with her.
She can keep it.
I don’t need it anymore.
She can stuff it in her red, bloody meat bag.
Chapter 11
Ides
Seven weeks ago . . .
“But what does it do?” Mr. Reid asks.
“Well, seeing as how you had it stolen, I figured you already knew.” I wipe the sweat off the back of my neck.
My knees are locked, and my breathing is shallow. He stands entirely too close, and I can barely think about why I’m here.
He gives me a knowing look, as if he can tell I’m a bundle of nervous energy and scared to death of him.
“Why do you hate me?” I blurt.
“I don’t. I’ve never disliked you, but you’re not good enough for my son. He deserves better.” He strokes my device. “Now, tell me what this does.”
“First tell me why I can’t see him anymore,” I demand.
He blinks and offers a serpentine smile. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Y-yes, sir. But I don’t see why you sent him after me only to later tell me if I came near him again or allowed him to be around me, you’d kill me.” I gulp and shift away from him.
His eyes light up. “I wanted to teach him a lesson.”
“What l-lesson?” Damn my vocal cords. Will they stop shaking and making me stutter?
“That I own him. He does what I say, and if I tell him to steal from the girl he’s been pining over for most of his life, then he’ll do it. If I tell him you’re nothing, then he better damn well believe me. And if I tell him to sue your ass and turn you into a beggar, then he’s going to do a hell of a fine job of it. Now . . .” He reaches out and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear, and bile tickles at the back of my throat as my stomach clenches. “Tell me what this fucking thing does before I have my associate, Westin here, remove your thumb nails.”
My eyes twitch and water. “Okay. No need to break out your clubs. We’re all civilized here, I h-hope.”
“Yeah, you can hope the moon’s made of fucking cheese, too, but it’s not gonna get you anywhere. I don’t have time to waste. Now tell me.”
I pull the back apart on the apparatus and show him what he wants. It’s small and lime green—looks similar to a thumb drive, but it has a few buttons on it.
I take a deep breath and start showing him what it does. “Okay, this is what you do.”
His eyes follow my fingers as I pull the console closer.
“Go on,” he says.
“You point this end of the slimboy at any gaming device and it configures the chip inside so when you bring it home and plug it into the fatboy console, it’ll download all the games that were played on that gaming device previously. It also mimics all the components inside. So, say I wanted a Nintendo Wii but my mom said no, I already have an Xbox, I could use this thing at my friend’s house and copy any type of gaming equipment they have. It’s a game hoarder, and it’s compatible with all current equipment. It was going to go for fifty bucks per slimboy stick. The fatboy was supposed to go for twice that.”
“That’s impressive,” he says with a throaty hum.
I step away. “Yeah, well, I’m practical. I like to game, but I don’t want to have fifteen different consoles and a million games scattered all over my place. Helps me keep up with technology without breaking my wallet every month.”
“You realize there are other applications that could be used for this as well,” he muses.
I shrug, knowing inside that’s exactly why he forced Vapor to get it for him. “That’s your fucking problem, since you’ve stolen it and taken over. I wash my hands of this project now.”
He smiles and removes it from my fingers.
My hand shrinks away from him, and I instinctively rub my palm down my pants, like he’s covered in slimy germs.
“You should see a doctor about that,” he says, glancing over at my now flexing hand.
“And you should see a doctor about your kleptomania and egotistical tendencies. I’m sure there’s some medication for both. Maybe one for allowing your son to breathe as well.” I turn away from him. “Fix
that
.”
I cup my mouth when I realize Westin’s armed and standing directly behind me, ready to do this man’s bidding.
“I can see why my son’s so infatuated with you.”
My hand slips off my mouth, and I turn back to him. “We just fucked a few times—that’s all. He’s nothing to me, and I’m sure he’s already forgotten about me . . .” For once in my goddamn life, I lie and keep a straight face.
I have to.
Protect Nick from this evil man . . .
“She’s not aware he’s following her around. He hasn’t forgotten about her,” Westin pipes in.
I shoot him a death glare.
“Look, Stephen, I just don’t want him to get hurt. That’s all I ask. I’ll even skip town if I have your word you won’t hurt Nick.” I swallow a grapefruit sized lump of guilt, and chills race down my back at the prospect of never seeing Nick again. My shoulders bunch up around my ears, and my head tips back a little.
I’m sure I look like a turtle, pulling its neck into its shell.
I wish. I wish I could hide from this scary fucker, but there’s nowhere to go.
Nick said his father had connections, and he was telling the truth.
“No, you’ll stay. He needs this hard lesson. You need to be in sight but just out of reach.” He grins and pets the console like it’s his evil pet cat.
My face falls and my throat goes dry. “Why?” I croak.
“Because I want him to grow up, and you need to quit asking questions and being a nosy bitch,” he says.
He towers over me, glaring, and I cower away.
“I’ll stay away from him,” I whisper.
“Good. Now leave. I don’t want you coming here ever again. I allowed it this once because I needed you to show me how this thing worked, but other than that . . .” Stephen turns away to leave.
“Does Nick even know you stole it from him?” I ask and then bite my tongue, trying to shut my big fat mouth.
“No. He’ll probably think you took it back.” He shrugs. “He was already pissed you didn’t have it, and that you’d entrusted it to your lawyer friend. His bitching that day . . .
Jesus
—gave me a migraine.”
“But won’t that defeat the purpose of what you just told me? If he thinks I took it, he’ll try to get it back, and how am I supposed to keep him away?”
He flies at me, and grips me by the shoulders. Every tiny inch of me shrinks away from him. “You know how. You’ve been jerking him around all this time, allowing him to break your defenses, but you and I both know, you’ve been deliberately holding back. Tighten up your home security. No more of these childish games. Either you keep him out, or
I
will.” His murderous look has my arms breaking out in goose bumps.
When he releases his grip on me, I gasp and slump over, my hands wrapping around the spots he touched me.
It tingles and almost feels like he burned me.
He’s out the door, and Westin is suddenly at my side, holding me up by supporting me with an arm around my shoulders.
“You okay, Ides?”
“Don’t call me that,” I mutter and lean into him.
Wetness spews out of my eyes, and my tummy drops and clenches as I try to take in some air.
“He won’t hurt you . . . I won’t let him,” Westin reassures me as he gives me a side hug.
“Yes, but what about Nick?”
He exhales and keeps his thoughts to himself.
Fuck. That’s what I thought . . .
* * *
Present day . . .
I step back inside my house, and Riot’s curved around his laptop, working on something.
“Hey,” I say and shuffle into the kitchen.
“You okay? You look like shit,” he says, now staring at me, his eyes wide.
“Had a little run-in with Nick today in the grocery store parking lot.” I blow out a puff of air through my pursed lips. “I don’t know how I can keep him safe if he keeps following me around. That tenacious son of a bitch just won’t give up. I don’t understand him. There’s nothing special about me.”
He pushes his laptop off his legs and springs up from the couch.
“That’s
it
—I’m not gonna let you go out anymore. You’ll stay home, and I’ll get whatever you need.” He hovers over me. “You’re not safe out there with that lunatic stalking you. Who knows what he’s capable of as a low, disgusting thief.”
He opens his arms with a look of hope that I’ll let him hug and comfort me.
I can’t. I won’t.
It feels wrong. I’d feel like I was betraying Nick. Westin hugging me was one thing . . . But
this
? No way. Being hugged by Riot once without my permission was enough for me.
“You’re not supposed to exist,” I remind him. “You were supposed to have disappeared. I can’t hug an invisible man.”
I open the fridge, grab two sodas and hand him one.
“I’m here to protect you. I told those fuckers I wasn’t working for them anymore. I’m sure they’ve figured out I’m here by now,” he says. He pushes his soda aside like he always does.
“How would they? I took the grid down around my house. They can’t hack into any of my security no matter what they do. And you haven’t left since I snuck you in here. Your car’s gone. How’ll they know?” I flip the tab off the soda can, scrub the top down, then open it with my own special opener. I pour mine into a pre-approved glass.
Once I’ve taken a few sips, my nerves have reduced some, enough so I can breathe again.
My head pounds and my legs tremble under me.
“Sit down. Let’s figure out how we can protect him.” He wears a slight grimace on his face.
“Thanks, Riot, but I’m not going to drag you into this any further than I already have.”
I walk over to the couch and fall into the seat.
When my feet go up on the coffee table, his eyes go wide and he wears a crooked grin.
“Well, I want to help somehow.” He leans over and removes my shoes for me.
“Thank you. And don’t you dare sanitize this table for me tomorrow since I put my feet here,” I say, smirking.
He chuckles. “You know me so well.”
“Only because you know
me
so well.” I take another sip.
“I can’t help it, Dena. You know how I feel about you.” He drops to his knees next to me, and his eyes go soft. “I’d do anything for you. I’d never hurt you like he has.
Never
.”
I blink and my heart slips into my spleen. “God, I shouldn’t have brought you here—
I’m
hurting
you
, and I don’t want that. I don’t mean to. You’re too good a person to be treated this way. I mean, you already gave up your beloved dog to come live here in my home for the time being.” I groan and tip my head back with my eyes closed for a second, then drop it back down to look at him.
He has no idea I did this for Nick, not him. I knew if Riot lived here in my home, even if just for a little while, I wouldn’t allow Nick to break my home’s defenses so he could get at me. Riot was the only protection I needed from myself.