by Kai Juniper
"I don't need help finding dates, and I didn't break up with Aubrey. We just had a fight."
"Still, you need to think about ending things with her. You need to find someone who at least has a brain. Aubrey can't even engage in intellectual conversation. It's embarrassing, and looks bad to our clients."
Now he's telling me who to date? This is a first, but I'm not putting up with it. I let him control enough of my life, and only because I think it'll get me what I want, but I'm not letting him tell me who I can date.
"I need to take a shower. Are we done here?"
"What's on your shoe?" He points to it. "Is that blood?"
I look down and see dried blood on the front of my brown leather shoes. "It's tomato sauce. We went out to eat and I must've spilled some."
"On your shoe? Weren't your feet under the table?"
"We got it to go. It probably dripped out of the container."
Shit. I just changed the story. I'm going to have to tell Parker and Finn to add dinner, at a place that has tomato sauce, and that we took it to go.
It's been less than an hour and I've already screwed up the story. And if I screwed up, Finn and Parker will too, if they haven't already. This is a fucking disaster. If the cops ever question us about this, we’re screwed.
"If we're done here, I'm going to—"
"Wait." He puts his hand up as his eyes go to the TV. "I want to hear this."
I look at the TV and see the words 'suspected hit-and-run' on the screen along with video of an ambulance on a dark road and two EMTs carrying a guy on a stretcher.
"The man was transported to the hospital," the reporter says, "but as of yet, police haven't identified him or discovered the reason why he was walking along the road at such a late hour. The police are now investigating what they believe to be a hit-and-run, but as of now they have no suspects. If you have any leads in this case, police are asking that you call their tip line."
Fuck! They're looking for us! But there's no way they'd find us. We were the only people out there.
"He'll be dead by tomorrow," my dad casually says as he turns back to me. "I had a roommate in college that got hit by a car. He died the next day."
"Did they find out who did it?"
"No, and they never found the car. I always wondered if it were me, would I stop or keep going? I'd like to think I'd stop, but the truth is, I probably wouldn't."
"Why wouldn't you?" I ask, although I'm not surprised he'd take off. He doesn't help people. He only cares about himself. But then what does that say about me? I took off. I left the guy there. He could've died, and I left him. Does that mean I'm just like my father?
"There's too much at stake," he says. "Turning myself in would end my career. Take away everything I'd work for. My reputation would be destroyed. There'd be no one to run the company. I wouldn't risk all that just to put my conscious at ease."
"What if the person died? Would you still not turn yourself in?"
"If he died, I'd definitely keep quiet. That could be considered manslaughter. They'd put me in prison."
"For how long?"
He eyes me. "Why all the questions?"
I shrug. "I'm just curious. Were you friends with this guy? The one who got hit in college?"
"I wouldn't call us friends. We'd only been roommates a few weeks and then he was gone. He was hit while walking back from his girlfriend's dorm. The police looked for months for whoever hit him but didn't have a single lead. Whoever did it got away with it. Anyway, the reason I came in here was to remind you that tomorrow we'll leave for the office at nine. I want you dressed and ready to go. No excuses."
"Tomorrow's Sunday. I'm not going to the office."
"You are, and you'll be wearing a suit."
"Why the hell would I wear a suit? Nobody will be there."
"I'll be there, and I don't want my employees looking like slobs.”
"I'm not your employee," I say, my jaw tightening. "And I'm not going. I was just there. You said I only had to go there once a week. I didn't agree to more than that."
"I didn't ask for your opinion. And it's not a choice." He steps up to me, pointing his finger at my face. "You will get up tomorrow morning, put on your suit, and be grateful that you are being given the chance to learn from me. Do you know how many young men would like to be in your shoes? To train alongside one of the most successful investors in the country?"
"Then have them go with you tomorrow." I go around him to my walk-in closet.
"Briggs, you will NOT disrespect me like this!" He storms into the closet and grabs one of the wooden hangers, pointing it at me. "I have had enough of your defiance! Your grandfather would be ashamed of the way you're acting. One day you'll be given that company and yet you're acting like an ungrateful child!"
"I'm not even out of high school, and then I have college. I have plenty of time to learn this shit. It doesn't have to be tomorrow."
He raises the wooden hanger and slams it across my face, so hard my head turns and I stumble back.
"What the fuck?" I hold my hand to my cheek, which is hot and burning and already swelling up.
"You want to disrespect me?" He points the hanger at me. "Disrespect the company your grandfather built? I won't allow it, and if getting you in line means slapping some sense into you, I will do it."
In my head I'm imagining hitting him back, my fist slamming into his smug face and sending him falling to the ground. He's never been this violent with me. He's slapped me around before, but only with his hand and never that hard. And he only did it if I pushed him over the edge.
This time was different. I barely said anything. He doesn't even seem that angry, and yet he still hit me. And it wasn't just a slap of the hand. He used a weapon, and he used it with as much force as he could, knowing it would injure me.
"Did you hear me?" he yells.
"Yes." I stare into his dark eyes, wondering why he did this. Is he just trying to remind me who's in control or is there something else going on?
"Tomorrow at nine." He turns and walks to the door. "We'll meet in the entry. Goodnight, Briggs."
When he's gone, I slam my door shut and lock it.
Fucking bastard. He didn't even show any remorse. It's like he enjoyed hitting me. Part of me wants to call my mom and tell her what he did. She'd be angry that he hurt me but there's nothing she could do. I doubt she'd even come back here to check on me. Maybe this is why she left. Maybe he hit her too. But if she knew he was abusive, why would she leave me with him?
The next morning I go to the office with my father, wearing my suit like a good little boy. I sit across from him at the long, walnut table in the conference room, staring at charts and spreadsheets on the laptop he gave me. I couldn't care less about any of it. It doesn't even make sense.
I didn't sleep last night and I'm exhausted. Even if I wasn't, I still wouldn't know what the fuck he's talking about as he goes through the spreadsheets. I think if I was interested I'd understand it. I'm not stupid and I easily pick up on stuff, but it's almost like my mind's defying him, refusing to comprehend what he's teaching me.
"Any questions?" he asks.
"No, I've got it."
I don't, but it's almost noon and I want to get the hell out of here. I need to talk to Finn and Parker and see how much damage they've done. I'm sure they've been texting me all morning but I haven't seen the texts because my father took my phone, saying he needed to eliminate all distractions. I wanted to tell him that I'm distracted by the throbbing pain in my cheekbone from him hitting me last night but I decided against that, noticing he's still in a bad mood that seemed to get worse when we got to the office.
My father's phone rings. It's sitting right next to him and he's been checking it all morning because apparently the phone is only a distraction for me, not him.
He answers it, smiling. "Hello, Phil. How are you this Sunday afternoon?"
From his cheery tone, you'd never guess he was in a bad mood. He's a master at
being on when he needs to, then shutting it off just as fast.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says, nodding. "Perhaps now you'll trust me with another hundred million." He laughs. "Sure. What time are you thinking?" He checks the clock on the wall. "I could make that work. I'm at the office with my son. I'll run home and drop him off and meet you at the club. See you soon."
"We're leaving?" I ask as he gets up.
"Yes, and we need to hurry. Phil has a one-thirty tee time."
I close the laptop and get up, secretly thanking whoever this Phil guy is for saving me from an afternoon of torture. My father always accepts golf invites because it usually leads to getting more business. Then after golfing, my father will insist on taking the guy to dinner, which will be another chance to talk the guy into investing more of his money with us.
We get home and my dad races in the house to change. This is awesome. He'll be gone in a few minutes and I won't have to see him until tonight. Or maybe I can hide in my room and pretend to be asleep so I won't have to see him at all.
This is why I hate weekends. It's too much time at home, too much risk of running into my dad. During the week, I'm at school all day, then have rugby, followed by hours at the gym. I'm usually out until eight or nine, and when I get home I tell my dad I have to study so he leaves me alone.
When I'm back in my room, I take off my suit and put on jeans and a t-shirt. I felt like I couldn't breathe in that suit. I couldn't wait to take it off.
I look at my phone and see a string of texts from both Parker and Finn. I also see one from Ella. I look at that one first.
Working for my dad until noon, she texts. If we're meeting I need a ride, and I have to be home by 4.
Why did she have to be involved in this? I had her in the palm of my hand, ready to give up the valedictorian title, and then this happens. I could still try to threaten her to do what I want but I don't know if she'll go along with it now that we're stuck sharing this secret. She could threaten to tell, although I don't think she would, knowing that turning us in could get her in trouble.
Going through Finn's texts, not a single one makes sense. They're all drunk texts, or maybe he was high. He handles stress by drinking or smoking weed.
As I'm looking through Parker's texts, he calls.
"What's going on?" I say.
"You still at the office?"
"No, I'm home. I was going through your texts."
"Did you read the last one?"
"No. Why? What's it say?"
"We need to meet, like now."
"Why? What happened?"
"Finn went to the party last night. Kiera picked him up. He got really drunk."
"Yeah? What else is new?"
"He can't remember what he said."
"Yeah? And?"
"He thinks he might've told someone. About last night. About what happened."
Chapter Sixteen
Ella
My phone rings as I'm eating lunch. I grab it from the kitchen counter and see 'A1' on the screen.
"What is it?" I ask, already panicking. Ever since we hit that guy, I've been thinking the police are going to find out and arrest me. I wasn't even the one who hit the guy but I looked up the laws online last night and saw that the passengers in the car could get in trouble for leaving the scene if they willingly did it. I could tell the police the guys forced me to go with them but they'd tell the cops I was lying. There's no way I can win in this. It's three against one. I just have to hope the three of them don't turn against me.
"We need to meet," Briggs says, his voice sounding even deeper than normal.
"Why? Did something happen?"
"Maybe. I don't know yet. I'll tell you when we meet. Are you alone?"
"Yeah, my dad's working. I told him I had to come home to study but he'll be back at four and then we're going to get my truck."
"We're heading over to pick you up. We'll be there in a few minutes."
"A few minutes? I'm not ready. I just got home from helping my dad. I'm eating lunch and I'm covered in grass."
"Nobody cares. Finish your lunch and wait outside. We're almost there."
I look at the phone and see he hung up. Great. I'm dirty and sweaty and covered in grass. It would've been nice to take a shower but that's not going to happen. I shove the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and run to my room to change clothes. I hear a car honking out front as I yank on a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt.
Racing back through the house, I grab my keys and phone and head outside to find Briggs' shiny, black Porsche sitting in my driveway. I've seen plenty of Porsches living here but none like the one Briggs drives. Charlotte told me it's worth over two hundred thousand.
I get in the back seat, next to Finn.
"You hurl again I'll fucking throw you out of the car," he says.
"I'm not going to hurl," I say as Briggs pulls out of the driveway.
He looks at Finn in the mirror. "Did you tell the maid?"
"Yeah, but she doesn't work weekends. She said she'd clean it tomorrow but by then the thing'll be ruined. I'll never get that smell out after it's sat there all day." He shoots me an angry look. "You owe me a new car."
"I'll give you my truck in exchange for your Range Rover."
He shakes his head, and looks out the window.
"So what are we meeting about?" I ask.
"You'll find out when we get there," Briggs says.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll find out when we get there."
I lean up to the front seat. "Just tell me where we're going. I can't be gone long. If my dad comes home early, he'll freak out if I'm not there, especially if I show up later being dropped off by you guys."
"Why would he care?" Briggs asks.
"He thinks there's something going on with us, which is completely ridiculous. I don't even know where he came up with that."
"What do you mean?" Parker asks. "What does he think is going on?"
"He thinks I lied about the truck and used it as an excuse to sneak out on a date."
"With us?" Parker laughs. "Like all of us?"
"No! With you or Briggs. He saw you guys dropping me off last night."
"Which one of us does he think you're dating?" Parker asks, smiling at Briggs.
"He didn't say. The point is, he thought I was lying to him, which means he suspects something's going on."
"Were you acting guilty?" Briggs asks.
"I don't think so. He just knows that I always check in, so when I took forever to text him and then didn't pick up his call, he assumed I was hiding something from him."
"He thought you were fucking Briggs?" Finn laughs. "Seriously? Does he know your history with him?"
"No, and he wasn't talking about sex. He thought we were on a date. Or maybe he thought I was out with Parker. Who cares? It doesn't matter."
Parker turns back to me. "Ask him. I want to know."
"Why do you care?"
"I want to know which of us he thinks would go out with you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, feeling offended.
"Where is this place?" Briggs asks, slowing down as we approach an area lined with warehouses.
"It's the one over there." Parker points to a concrete building with no windows.
"That's where we're going?" I ask as Briggs pulls up to the building. "Yeah, I'll be waiting in the car."
"What are you afraid of?" Finn asks with a mischievous grin.
"That you'll kill me. Rape me. Who knows? But I'm not going in there."
Briggs turns off the engine and the guys get out of the car while I remain inside.
Briggs opens my door. "Let's go. Hurry up."
"I'm not going in there. It doesn't even have windows. You could kill me and nobody would know."
"That'd be true even if there were windows. But we're not here to kill you. We're here to talk and figure out what to do. Now hurry up."
I am curious to see what this is about. Obviously somet
hing happened and I want to know what. But I'm afraid to go in there with them. These are my three biggest enemies and I'm out here alone with them.
Briggs leans into the car and puts his face up to mine, looking at me with those blue eyes. "I promise you, we won't hurt you."
As he says it, I notice the bruise on his cheek. It starts below his eye and goes down his cheek to his jaw.
"What happened to your face?" I ask, reaching up to touch it.
"Don't!" He backs away. "It's nothing. I just fell getting up in the night. Now are you coming or do I need to get you in there myself?"
"I'm waiting here."
"Wrong answer." He undoes my seatbelt and next thing I know he's picking me up and out of the car.
"Put me down!" I yell as Briggs throws me over his shoulder.
"Get the door," he says to Parker. I look over and see Parker unlocking the door to the building.
"Briggs, I'm serious. Put me down!"
He ignores me and goes into the building. Parker and Finn follow behind, locking the door behind us.
"I swear to God, if you guys rape me I'll—"
"Where do we go?" Briggs asks Parker, not even caring that I'm kicking and punching him to let me down.
"Over here." Parker leads us through the open room to an office with some folding chairs.
"What is this place?" Finn asks.
"It's for data storage," Parker says. "Right now he doesn't need it but he will eventually so he bought the building before the price went up."
I have no idea what he's talking about, and don't care. I just want to hurry this up and get out of here.
Briggs sets me down but clamps his hands down on my shoulders, holding me in place. "Can I trust you not to run off?"
"I'll shut the door," Finn says, closing it.
Briggs lets me go, but picks up a chair and moves it in front of the door, blocking it. I should be scared to death right now, being here with the three of them, but for some reason I'm oddly calm. And even stranger, I think it's because of Briggs. I feel like he's being protective of me, which makes no sense and is probably not even close to being true, and yet I'm not as nervous as I should be.
