Read Slick as Ides Online

Authors: Chanse Lowell,K. I. Lynn,Lynda Kimpel

Slick as Ides (25 page)

He stiffens beneath me. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He rolls me off him, gets up and starts pacing.

“You’re serious?” His face contorts with some intense emotion, and I about die at the thought I’ve hurt him.

I nod and my brow scrunches. “Why, what’s wrong?” What did I do?

“Un-fucking-believable.” He points at me for a second, then before I know it, he’s out the door.

Five minutes later as I’m lying in bed, covers over my chest, fisting the sheets and about to burst into tears, I realize what I’ve said.

And fuck, I know why it stung so bad.

I can fix this.

A few deep breaths, then I get up and put his shirt back on I was wearing earlier. I remove the keypad to my garage so he can’t get in again and drag my aching body back into my office.

I smirk at the door leaning up against the wall, mocking me and reminding me of the dirty things he did to me out in my garage.

“Naughty boy,” I say.

I pull up my file I have on him, rummage through the subset folders and find what I need.

This is the one. This is why I can barely breathe around him. He’s stunning in his brilliance, and now he’s going to see it, too.

He’ll know I was first to spot what this was. It’s hardcore shit, and I love that he’s so bold, so unafraid to take on something this dangerous.

“Mister, you’re gonna find out what it’s like to get your ass handed to you after your ideas are stolen,” I say to the air, faintly scented of sex and him.

The best combination ever.

Its aphrodisiac qualities make my brain whir, and a million ideas barrage my mind, so I set to work right away and don’t stop until I’m near dead. I owe him this much.

I pick up my phone and dial the number I’ve been dreading. “Well, now you want my help?”

“Shut up. Just wait for my instructions. It’s time. He needs to be involved, and I want this done quietly and as fast as possible. No media if we can avoid it, and, John . . . I don’t want Riot to know this time.” My chest tightens so much I swear my ribs are bruising.

“Whoa. These are some serious decisions. I thought you were joking at the last meeting,” he says.

“Do I have a sense of humor you’re aware of?” I tease.

“Not when you’re working, and since your brain never shuts down, I’d have to say no, you don’t.”

“Bye, John. Prepare the paperwork. I’ve got an amazing trick up my sleeve this time, and it’s not even one of my own,” I reply.

“Can’t wait.”

“I’m sure you can’t.” I hang up and get back to work, smiling the entire time.

Hopefully this will more than make up for the things I managed to say wrong. And I pray John, my second lawyer, keeps his mouth shut. Riot’s been busy lately, and I don’t approve.

Chapter 14

 

Vapor

 

“What the hell camped up your crack and rotted there?”

“I’ll shower later,” I say, hauling in the bag of shit I need.

“Seriously, man, you not only reek, but you act like you’re carrying Ripley’s dead alien baby inside you. What. Happened?” Jason pulls his laptop off his thighs and sets it aside.

“Nothing I wanna tell you about,” I grumble.

I unload the groceries and in a covert way, shuffle aside the things I don’t want him to know about.

“C’mon. I won’t tell him,” he presses.

“Like hell you won’t.” I slap the counter with my palms. “He asks and you cave every damn time. There’s no way I’ll ever tell you anything that’s important to me again.”

“Jeeezus, I told you before, I was protecting you, not ratting you out. There’s a difference.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and scrunches up his forehead.

“You prove you’re on my side by finding out what she’s up to. Riot’s not talking anymore even though we know he’s staying with her now. He won’t tell Dad a fucking thing, and he’s avoiding me as well. And I . . .” Dammit. It’s been a week since I’ve seen her, and this time is worse than before. I can’t fucking take it!

“She locked you out again?” His eyes soften.

“No. I mean, yeah, she did, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want back in, not after I found out what she’s made of.” I put away the last few groceries, grab a shot glass and fill it up with the first bottle I find.

“Drinking again? I thought you’d stopped?”

“Can you fucking mind your own business for five minutes? You’re almost as bad as Westin—all nosy and up in my shit all the time. I’m
fine
.
She’s
fine. End of conversation. Yes, I’m thirsty. Christ, can’t a man have a drink without it making the news?”

“The only news I thought you’d want to know about is what your dad’s doing with that plumbing gadget now,” he replies.

“Oh, great—what now? Does that asshole ever stop getting into mischief? I mean, how many thrones does he have to own and conquer before he’s satisfied? Enough already. He’s richer than anyone has a right to be.” I grip my nails into my thighs. It hurts, and I’m glad. I deserve it for ever trusting my father to be honest with me.

“He’s got it down our pipes right now. He said it’s like this miracle machine, and he wants to make sure it wasn’t just his plumbing that it worked on,” he says, pointing to the bathroom.

“Oh fuck, no! She made that monstrosity! Who knows what the hell it’s doing right now down there!” I rush to the bathroom, and the tail end of something silver whips down the shower drain.

“Fabulous. I ain’t showering in there any longer.” He scowls at the drain.

“I thought you knew where he’d put it,” I say, turning to face him.

“Put it? He set it on the ground and said he’d be back in a half hour. He pushed some button that turned it on, and it lit up for a second, but it stayed in the spot he set it. I was messin’ with you when I said it was already in the drains. I wanted to see what you’d do when you realized she was a part of this. I didn’t know you were already aware of her involvement,” he says, his face losing color.

“Does he know . . . D-does he know she’s behind it?” I crane my neck to look down the drain, but I can’t see a damned thing.

It’s hopeless.

“Nah. As far as he knows, some guy named T. Baker made it. Or at least he patented the metal for it,” he answers.

“This isn’t gonna be good. When he figures it out, all hells gonna burst through our pipes and then he’s going to kill us for not telling him.”

“So, we won’t tell him we ever knew. How would he find out?” He grins.

I quirk a brow at him. “Really?”

“I swear on my cock and balls. May they fall off if I’m lying. I won’t tell him—I can’t.” He blinks.

My eyes narrow at him. Who the fuck does he think he’s kidding?

“Okay, I believe you,” I say through my clenched teeth.

There’s no way I trust him. I need to find a new place to live. I can’t be here anymore, and I’ll fuck a dead dog before I move in with Westin. He’s been driving me insane lately, working my last nerve into a pinched, tight, fuckfest of shooting pains, tearing down my back.

I want to live with her. I want to wake to her breath on my cheek and my hand on her crotch as I inhale the scent of her glorious hair.

I’m a sentimental bastard, but the things she said . . .

It’s obvious we’re not nearly as in sync as I thought.

She doesn’t give a shit about what I steal because she thinks I’m an idiot, and I can never come up with anything worthwhile on my own. So fuck it. I’ll drown my brain in alcohol until it decides to try and work again.

“Fifteen until the meeting, and this one you have to attebd if you don’t want your dad coming after you like he did last time,” Jason reminds me.

My shoulders hunch up, and my head drops forward. “Shit . . .”

“You’ll be there. I said I won’t tell, and I swear that’s true, but I won’t cover for you right now since there’s no reason you can’t be there. I don’t do lazy-son-dealing-with-uptight-dad. That’s beyond my scope as a roommate and friend.”

I growl and step away from him.
Oh, but you do, I’ll-tell-your-dad-any-shit-he-wants-to-know-to-put-your-girl-in-danger. That’s okay with you?

I drag myself back to my room, grab my leather jacket, put it on and get back on my bike.

The drive to Dad’s place makes me edgier than ever.

Last time he came after her was when I’d missed that last meeting, broke into her place, roughed up Riot and then fucked her in her garage. I was already broken in half when I intercepted Dad on his way to her place.

Some stupid excuse worked on him to stop him from heading the rest of the way to her home.

He believed me that I was just out for a ride to clear my head.

Jason’s right—my excuse won’t work again.

When I pull up in Dad’s driveway, he exits the garage and glowers. “Helmet, Son. Is it so hard to follow the rules of safety?”

“Is it so hard to stop stealing her ideas and come up with your own shit, you patronizing son of a bitch?”

He chuckles, and I shove my hands in my pockets.

“Get off that fucking stupid bike and come inside. I wanna talk to you before the meeting,” he says, waving me in.

I turn the bike off, swing my leg around, set the kickstand down and follow him inside like an enormous, pitiful tool.

He opens the door to his office, and the second he breathes my direction and says her name, I’m flipping him off.

“Charming as always.” He smirks. “Please, set aside the trite angry white guy routine, and listen to me for a few seconds.”

“Why should I? You don’t give a shit that she’s my life.”

“Your
life
? You haven’t been following her around for the last week,” he says, leaning forward. “Seems to me you’re over her this time.”

“Been fucking busy,” I say through a tight jaw.

“Too busy you’re loafing around your house and sleeping all day? I’ve been over there several times. Either you’re so hammered you have to crash hard, or you’re avoiding something having to do with her. This isn’t normal for you. I’m worried about it,” he says, studying me.

He works his way over to his desk and leans his ass up against the outer edge of it. He crosses one ankle over the other and scrutinizes me even more.

I sigh and roll my eyes. Does he have a fucking point to make? Why does he give a shit what I do as long as I keep away from her? Wasn’t that what made him act like a fucking attack dog before?

“The minute you stop being narcissistic, you’re weak, and that’s what she’s done to you.” He wears a curious expression on his face. “Look at you—take a breath, and you can’t ignore the way she’s demolished what’s left of your integrity and confidence.”

“What I do is none of your business. I’m working, only not on your shit. I’m done working with you.” I cross my left ankle on top of my right knee.


For
me, not
with
me. You were never a partner—you didn’t earn that status, and right now, you’re on a steady decline. I don’t see you taking over the business for many, many more years to come.” He points at me and makes this sneering sound with his mouth slightly open and the tip of his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth.

“Fuck your shitty business full of lies and thievery. If there’s one thing you did on your own, I’d like to see it,” I say, my jaw so tight, my temples throb. “I did everything for you. Your fingers never lifted, you lazy bastard. So as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to inherit or earn because none of it’s legitimately yours.”

He’s on me so fast, his fist in my face, I barely had time to see it coming.

“You will straighten your appearance in the next ten minutes. I’ll start the meeting late for you so you can shower, shave and put on some clean clothes. If you ever disrespect me and all I represent ever again, you’ll find your ass hunted to the ends of the earth, and you won’t even have the benefit of her pussy around. I’ll kill her before you can blink!” He stands up straight. “This isn’t something you get to walk away from. It’s blood—it’s mine, it’s yours. We take responsibility for our own, and you’re of my flesh and bone. He who gaveth you life, can taketh it away. It’s scripture, you ass. Now get out of my office.”

“Mom hated you just like I do, and right now, in her grave, she’s choking curses out at you and what a miserable fucker you turned out to be.” I stand, flip him off once more and glide through the door.

I march straight into the conference room, prop my boots up on the table and wait for him to saunter in with his parade of loser lackeys.

Oh wait . . .

I get up, head to the kitchen, grab myself a large glass of vodka, go back to my perch and sit and drink, waiting for him to rule his kingdom from his lofty, dark cloud in the sky.

Several minutes later, most of Dad’s minions file in, with him taking up the rear.

I suppress a groan when he enters, buckling his belt in place and wiping off a lipstick mark from his chin.

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