Hideaway

by Penelope Douglas

  I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table again. “You want me to find him?”

  “I couldn’t care less if you tore apart this entire city looking for him,” she retorted. “I’m here to deliver a message. Nothing more.”

  “But you must’ve known I’d refuse.”

  She nodded once. “Yes.”

  “So, why come?”

  Now she was the one to hesitate. She reached out and grabbed a piece of notepaper and a pen from the middle of the table, looking down as she began writing and speaking at the same time.

  “Because after you refuse,” she started, “I’m going to leave.” She scrawled on the paper, taunting me with her smooth words. “You’ll then go upstairs and out to the open terrace to work on your forms in the evening air. You’re liking it out there more now, I can tell.”

  My eyes burned as I glared at her. What?

  “The weather is cooling off, so it’s more comfortable to practice outside, isn’t it?” she went on, still not looking at me as she wrote. “And resist as you may, your mind will eventually drift to our discussion tonight. You’ll think about how so very little is in your control anymore. You’ll think, ‘What do I do now?’ and how your life is in a stalemate, and how the small itch under your skin called anger is growing stronger?”

  I stopped breathing, and she looked up and met my eyes, complete fucking pleasure pouring out of her gaze and cutting into me.

  “It’s building and building and building every day,” she said, slicing even deeper as I sat frozen. “Because your life embarrasses you. It hasn’t even become close to what it was before you were arrested.”

  She dropped her eyes and began writing again. “All of your high school friends—well, nearly all of them—moved onto college, prestigious law schools and medical schools, bringing their families pride,” she continued, “and at night, they get to go to clubs and pick up hot, young undergrads who blow them in the car rides back to their penthouse apartments. They’re on top of the world without a care.”

  The slow strokes of her pen scratched across the paper, sounding like a blade carving into wood.

  “But not you,” she jeered. “You think you’re a joke to them. How far the golden boy did fall. A disgrace to his family. The infamous story they’ll tell at the high school reunion in five years, which, unfortunately, you won’t be attending, because deep down you know they’re right.”

  She re-capped the pen and placed it back in the holder at the center of the table.

  “Then you’ll come inside after your workout, and you’ll go take another shower. Your third one today. It washes off the self-hate for a little while, doesn’t it?” She folded the paper in half, sharpening the crease as her eyes held me like an anchor. “Then you’ll drive and go to a club and find someone—anyone—to take all that rage out on, so you can at least sleep for a few hours tonight.”

  I tightened my fists, pressing them into the table as I rose from my seat. It took everything I had not to grab her by the fucking neck. Walking over, I leaned down, pushing her chair to recline. Her proud eyes stared up, daring me. Where the fuck did she get all that? She’s been watching me?

  I didn’t hate my life. I wasn’t angry. I’d served my time. Deed was done, and I wasn’t wallowing in self-pity. I knew how to pick myself up and get on with it.

  Or, at least I was trying.

  “And when you wake up,” she said low, nearly whispering up at me. “You’ll realize how much everything around you sucks and how it’s time to get in the goddamn game, Kai Mori, and take some chances.”

  Goddamn her.

  She held up the folded piece of paper between us. “Her inheritance,” she said, handing it to me. “It will make you a very powerful man. More powerful than your friends will ever be.”

  She rose from the chair, forcing me back, and my body filled with a sudden unease. She’d gotten under my skin, and she knew it. But I hadn’t affected her in the least.

  “I’ll wait until tomorrow to tell Mr. Torrance your answer,” she told me. “Just in case I hear from you tonight.”

  I reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life,” I said, standing at her side. “I won’t be making any more.”

  She looked up at me and pulled her arm out of my grip. “I hope not. You’ve made too many.”

  She moved to leave, but I blocked her again. Slipping the paper she gave me into her jacket without looking at it, I retrieved the picture instead. I made a show of looking at it.

  I needed Damon.

  And I needed in that hotel.

  But if he wasn’t there…

  I looked down into her piercing eyes, remembering the smell of her hair, the sight of her smile, and the feel of her fear and excitement. She was the one thing I’d ever seen him possessive of.

  If he wasn’t in the hotel, then she was leverage.

  “Tell him we’ve got a deal,” I told her.

  She blinked up at me for a split moment, and I knew she hadn’t been expecting that.

  But when she reached for the knob, I put my hand on the door, keeping it shut. “But I’ll pay for The Pope,” I clarified. “Instead, my wedding present… will be you.”

  She whipped around, and I finally saw some emotion on her face as she glared at me. “I’m not on the table.”

  And I couldn’t help but smile down at her, my dirty mind finding the double meaning.

  “You work for me until the wedding. That’s the deal. Go and tell him my terms.” I backed away, suddenly very confident. “And you’ll find out that you’re exactly what I said you were. Toy or tool. Nothing more.”

  I left her side and walked back around behind my desk. While her position with Gabriel perplexed me, I knew that man would sell his soul to make a buck. There was no chance one little girl was of that much value that he wouldn’t sacrifice her to see me agree to his terms.

  “And, Banks,” I said, seeing her yank open the door, a small ember of the fire I remembered in her all those years ago finally showing itself again. “Once he agrees, gather the keys, codes, and blueprints for the hotel and bring them to me. I want in tomorrow.”

  She didn’t turn or acknowledge my order, but I saw the little snarl on the side of her face before she left the office, slamming the door behind her.

  My chest shook as I let out a quiet laugh. Following her out, I watched her stuff her hands back into her coat pockets and ignore my friends who stood in the lobby. I stopped next to the front desk, seeing her disappear out the doors, and moments later a black SUV charged off.

  “What did you do?” Michael walked over.

  But I just kept staring out the doors after her, mumbling, “She said ‘tear apart the city, looking for him.’”

  “What?”

  “She said that she didn’t care if I tore apart the entire city, looking for him,” I said again, louder. “I never told her I thought he was in the city.” And I nodded, now more sure than ever. “He’s here.”

  I turned to head back to the office.

  “You’re not getting married,” Michael called out after me.

  I glanced back. “I’m not getting fucking married.”

  Banks

  Devil’s Night

  Six Years Ago

  Maybe I’ll be around?

  I’d said that. Why had I said that to him in the confessional? And why had I taunted him on the road earlier? There was no way I’d be around or allowed to go anywhere tonight. Not on Devil’s Night.

  But finally being able to engage with him, I couldn’t stop myself. He was like a puzzle, giving the impression that there were so many things he wanted to say, but he struggled to get his words out. And then…every once in a while in that confessional, he showed himself. His real self. The monster who my brother said everyone had inside of them.

  I coasted back down the long driveway, testing out my bike after the repairs I’d made. I unclenched my fingers from the handlebar, and spre
ading out my hand, I studied my dirty nails.

  He wouldn’t like me, right? I wasn’t his type.

  He was used to girls who looked like models, with magazine hair, hundred-dollar eye shadow, and heels for days. I glanced down at my brother’s old Vans on my feet—the ones he’d grown out of six years ago—permanently stained from oil that he’d spilled on them so many summers ago and the fabric shredding along the rubber sole. I didn’t look like a girl, much less a woman.

  And at seventeen years old, I was so far behind other girls my age. Kai couldn’t be seen with me even if he wanted to. I’d embarrass him.

  And I’d never be able to afford to look like I could even try to fit in with him and his crowd.

  I breathed in the evergreens on both sides of the blacktop as the wind blew back my dark hoodie and caressed my hair.

  In all the times I’d spotted Kai around Thunder Bay, around my house, at a basketball game…he was cool and calm, touched by nothing.

  But not today. I’d made him nervous.

  I smiled, pedaling faster as I clicked the little black remote secured to my handlebars. Smells Like Teen Spirit droned in my ears, and I swerved left, zooming right through the iron gates just as they parted for me. I held on tight as the road dipped, and raced down the steep, paved hill of my driveway. Holding the handlebars straight, I closed my eyes, instantly feeling my heart jump up into my throat at the rush of wind and the sensation washing over me.

  I made him nervous. My skin still tingled where he chafed it when he grabbed my sweatshirt. What would he have done without that wall between us?

  A horn honked, and I popped my eyes open, seeing one of my father’s cars racing toward me.

  Shit. I swerved out of the way, turning right, and flew past the Bentley, avoiding eye contact. The driveway evened out, and I continued down the length, feeling eyes on my back as I disappeared around the back of the house, out of sight of the car.

  Last night’s rain still chilled the air, but the ground was dry as I hopped off my bike and walked it behind the hedges between the two garages, one loaded with cars that were never driven and one with blacked-out windows and a keypad code that almost no one knew.

  I hid the bike out of sight and jogged up to the back of the house. Entering the kitchen, I immediately smelled all the food and nearly groaned as I closed my eyes for a moment.

  Marina, one of the household’s cooks, was making bread today, and I closed the door, feeling warm all over.

  “Where ya been?” I heard David’s voice and glanced over at the long, wooden table in the middle of the room where he sat with two others of my father’s security, Ilia and Lev.

  I looked away, walking to the stove. “Fixing my bike.”

  Marina wiped her hands on a towel and winked at me, lifting the lid of the pot on the stove. I leaned over, breathing in and smiling at the chestnut and mushroom soup.

  “When your brother calls me,” David barked, “and I don’t know where you are, I feel like he’s going to reach through the phone and rip out my throat. You’re getting me into trouble, Nik. And if you’re going to confession, let us know and one of us will give you a ride.”

  I kept my eye roll to myself, taking the bowl that Marina loaded up and handed to me. Walking over to the table, I climbed over the bench seat and plopped down next to David, tearing some bread off the loaf already sitting in front of me.

  “Leave the kid alone,” Marina scolded, coming up behind me and pulling my hair out of the back of my sweatshirt, combing her fingers through it. “She needs some freedom.”

  He scowled up at her. “You try explaining that to him.”

  I remained silent, knowing he was right. He had a right to be mad. No one wanted to deal with my brother. Standing up, I walked over to the sink to retrieve a clean spoon.

  I heard Ilia speak up. “Yeah, I can’t even tell him you stole some of my beers last night.” He grabbed me and yanked me down into a headlock. “He’ll just blame me for leading you into temptation.”

  I twisted, trying to free myself. “Cut it out!” I shouted, the odor of cigarettes and sweat assaulting my nostrils and making me gag.

  “I didn’t steal any of your beers!” I growled. “You were probably too drunk to remember you drank them all!”

  I finally whipped my spoon on the back of his head, and he released me, laughing.

  I stood upright again and slammed down into my seat, scowling. Asshole.

  Dipping some bread into the soup, I stared down, eating and trying to keep my damn mouth shut. The warmth spread through my mouth and down my throat, filtering through my body as I tried to ignore everyone’s eyes on me.

  “So, how much penance did you get? Huh?” Ilia nudged my shoulder, not letting up. “Stealing my beer, not doing as you’re told like a good girl…” He listed my sins. “You having any impure thoughts yet?”

  “Ask your girlfriend,” I retorted, my mouth full of food. “She eyeballs me more than she does you.”

  Lev snorted.

  “You little shit,” Ilia gritted out, jabbing his fingers into my stomach.

  I jerked away, but he circled his arms around my body and tickled me. I squirmed, hitting him in the chest. “Leave me alone!”

  But he just laughed, moving his hands under my arms and then back to my stomach.

  “Leave her alone,” I heard David say.

  “Mmm.” Ilia’s hand “accidentally” found itself close to my ass. “Getting kind of perky back there, aren’t you?” He pinched me through my jeans. I wiggled away and swung my hand at him, slapping him on the neck.

  “Alright, enough,” Marina barked. “Out of my kitchen. Go. All of you. Now!”

  Ilia and Lev chuckled, jostling the benches as they rose and left the room, Ilia flicking me on the side of the head as he left. David stood up, emptying his coffee and setting down the mug before leaving the room without another word.

  I downed a few more spoonfuls of soup and stood up, ripping a hunk of bread off the loaf on the table to take with me.

  Climbing off the bench, I walked toward the back stairs, leading up to my room.

  But a voice from behind stopped me. “Nik.”

  I halted, squaring my shoulders to brace myself. I had hoped to escape, but I was too late.

  Marina wasn’t my mother, but she assumed the job. We had an agreement. I came and went as I pleased, and she reserved the right to tell me what she did or didn’t like about that.

  My real mother could barely take care of herself, much less me.

  Turning around, I took a quick bite out of the loaf in my hand, hoping that would signal I didn’t want to talk.

  But she approached anyway, her blue eyes leveled on me and a sympathetic tilt to her smile. “Try as he might,” she said, “your brother can’t stop time. No matter how you cover up or how big you wear your clothes, you can’t hide forever. Your body is changing.”

  Heat immediately rose to my cheeks, and I wanted to look away but didn’t. “So?”

  “So, men are starting to notice you,” she pointed out, more urgent. “You’re a pretty girl, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to…” She paused as if looking for the right words. “I don’t think they should be handling you like that anymore. They’ll start to get ideas.”

  She raised her hands and rubbed them up and down my arms, adding, “If they haven’t already, that is. You’re a woman now, and your body is yours.”

  This time I did look away, inhaling a heavy breath.

  A woman. I wasn’t growing up. My body could change all it wanted, but I’d never be a woman. I’d never be anything other than what I was right now.

  “It’s okay to grow up,” Marina nearly whispered as if reading my mind. “It’s okay to dress and wear make-up like other women do, if that’s what you want.”

  I held in my bitter laugh. “I don’t see how that makes any sense. I don’t want those guys to notice me—” I jerked my head to the hallway where Ilia, Lev, and David had just walk
ed, “—so why draw further attention to myself?”

  Why dress up and even try to look pretty?

  “Because.” Marina smiled gently, taking a tube out of the pocket on her apron. I watched as she uncapped it and twisted the base, making the cherry red lipstick rise.

  She raised it my lips, and I jerked back out of reflex, but stilled as she started to dab it on my mouth.

  Smiling, she pulled her hand away and turned me to the mirror she had hung on the wall next to the pantry.

  I blinked, taken aback. I rarely looked in mirrors anymore, refusing to face what I knew was happening to my appearance, but I couldn’t stop staring all of a sudden. Rolling my lips together, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. A rush.

  The red seemed to make my olive skin glow in a way I never noticed before, and my green eyes pierced me as they stared back through the mirror. Even my hair seemed a richer brown.

  “Because, eventually,” Marina continued, “there will be someone whose attention you do want.”

  And an image of Kai popped in my head. What did he think of me today?

  Marina turned around, getting back to work, and glanced in the mirror once more before heading up the back stairwell.

  Things were changing. My brother kept me all to himself, and while he was my world, I was starting to feel like I could fit in more. I wanted more. A bigger life.

  I was seventeen. I had no friends and no formal education. What would I do next year when my brother left for college? I could ignore how my body was changing all I wanted, but time was passing anyway, making sure our lives evolved. I’d have to be an adult, eventually.

  Reaching the second floor, I jetted down the hallway, heading for my brother’s room, but a scraping sound caught my attention, and I stopped. I looked toward the window at the end of the hall, seeing the tree outside whipping like a flag in the high wind. I stepped up, gazing outside.

  What was Kai doing now? Pulling some prank, partying, or maybe doing one of the things he confessed today? On his way to a private room in a private club or something equally painful for me to think about?

  Looking down, I noticed a red Charger facing me—fairly new—with a black stripe running down the side. I pinched my eyebrows together. Whose car was that? I didn’t recognize it.