Slick as Ides (26 page)

One of his dyed-hags trolls past me and sits on my left.

She’s smothered in Dad’s cologne, and she has a deviant smile flashing at me.

Does she think I care if he had a quick, meaningless fuck with her? Does it make her special or stand out?

There’s dozens more in this room he’s probably been wetting his dick in all week long.

I don’t give a shit. It’s not the way I rule my life, and any of them that think I’ll take after him have a lot more to figure out before they can even consider looking my direction.

Ides is it for me. They can be shapelier, easier on the eyes, and even say the things every man wants to hear, but none of it’s real. Dena is as real as it gets, and so fucking brilliant, she could tell them what their nail polish is made of and then figure out a way to fuel their car with it.

God, I’m getting stiff just thinking about her.

Why doesn’t she crave me like an animal the way I do her? Why can’t she see how utterly crazy I am for her? That I’d do anything to make her happy and worship her until I die? I want her blissfully and painful aware of how much she misses me every second I’m not in her presence since that’s what she does to me.

I pull at a loose thread, poking out of my frayed jeans at the hem while I keep my leg up on the table, bent at the knee.

Dad gives me an amused look and then there’s a glint in his eyes with the thrill of possible future pain or humiliation he’s planning for me.

Do I give a fuck? Not really. He can try all he wants to damage me, but only Dena can really do that since I don’t care what he thinks anymore.

I yawn with an obscene moan.

The woman to my side, the one that’s freshly fucked but still trying to get my attention, gasps when I lift my arms up to stretch. I’m sure she got a whiff of my BO.

I chuckle. “That’s all man,” I tell her, patting my abs. “Enjoy it, honey. It’s the smell of masculinity.”

“That’s all stench and a day of grueling scrubbing with two bars of soap,” she murmurs, then holds her breath.

She looks away.

Good. I smile and wave at Dad.

He glares at me and gets started.

“As you’re all aware, we’ve got a big problem in our ranks—someone’s stealing from our production line,” he begins.

I burst into a rolling, barking laugh. “Someone’s stealing—well, shit, that’s unethical and
so
wrong!”

He slams his fists on the table. “It stops today. We started the assembly of the weasel,” he says.

“What the hell is that?” I ask, tapping my boot on the table.

“It’s what I shoved down the drains at your house, so you could discover its secrets for me.” The cleft in his chin deepens with his glower.

“The weasel? What kind of stupid name is that?” I yawn again.

“A weasel eats snakes, and it’s sneaky. You don’t even know this thing is in your plumbing, fixing years’ worth of problems and clogs. It’s a clever invention, and we’ll sell millions of them.” His jaw snaps shut at the end.

“If you’re already producing them, then why does it matter if someone stole one?” I cock my head at him. If this was Ides that it had been stolen from, she’d have moved on already without losing a second of peace.

“When you’re done acting like a condescending toddler, you’ll realize why this is a problem. They stole the plans for the vital piece and all the corresponding parts. It doesn’t work without this portion. So right now, we have pieces of junk that go to nothing.”

I whistle, “Ffffffoooohhhh!” I let it fade. “Brutal. What are we supposed to do about it?”

“Catch the thief, and whoever hands them over to me along with the plans, even if the parts are gone, will not only get a generous bonus, but they’ll take on a position as my assistant over the next year and learn how to handle this business. If this person impresses me, they may have the opportunity to be signed on as a partner.”

Another loud yawn by me. Does he honestly think this little maneuver of his is going to hurt my feelings? So what if she’s trying to replace me as the prince of his empire. “Sounds good, pops. We done yet?”

“Nicholas is obviously spent since he’s gone beyond his expenditures in terms of manners today.” He waves me out the door.

I bow and make a grand exit.

Someone wolf whistles as I disappear.

I get on my bike and leave in a rush before Dad can try to get his hooks back in me again.

Like a pathetic creepy stalker, I wind up at Dena’s again, but this time I just sit outside the gate and stare with longing.

The keypad’s gone from the garage.

I need a grappling hook so I can get through those skylights. I’m willing to do the whole FBI agent doing espionage and covert work.

Then her words come back to haunt me, and I recall how
blasé
she was about me and my ideas for inventions.

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.