“Well, now, I’m not sure how I feel about you dating boys before graduation,” Justin muses, as if the stupid asshole didn’t force me to sleep with Chasm in the first place. When we finally break away from one another, I look back to see that Tess is just … staring at me in that way of hers again.
Disappointment is plain on her face, just like Parrish warned me about so seemingly long ago.
Has it really only been about three and a half months since I got here?
Tess is too busy with her phone call, however, to deal with me and Chasm.
“I want to go with him,” I reiterate. “What if … what if we just go out for an hour? Just one. Then he can bring me right back. In time for the press conference.”
“Oh, you’re having a press conference today?” Justin queries, but almost like he already knew about it. “Let me help. I have a press release prepared. I could announce the launch of the app and pledge every resource our company possesses to help you bring your son home.”
“You’re an opportunistic monster,” Tess breathes, her eyes brimming with angry tears. She still has her phone pressed to her ear but whatever her fancy-pants lawyer is saying on the other side must not be very hopeful. I look at her and I feel simultaneously hopeful and vindictive. This is exactly what you did to the Banks. Exactly this. You swept in with your lawyers and your DNA tests and you took what you wanted with no regard to anyone else.
Just like Justin is doing now.
“Let me in on the press conference, Tess, and I won’t take Dakota tonight—even though it is my legal right. We’ll meet up tomorrow for lunch, won’t we, princess?” He doesn’t even wait for me to answer because he doesn’t care; this is what’s happening, and we both know it. “We can work up to the overnights.” He gives me a look and then lets his gaze drag over to land on Chasm. “I’m currently staying in a vacation rental, so I don’t exactly have a permanent address of my own just yet.”
“How long have you been planning this?” Tess asks, so angry that even though there are tears on her cheeks, she looks like she’s about to say damn it all, and deck Justin Prior right in the face. “Since the moment you heard my son was missing? Is that why you crawled out of the woodwork, just to ruin my life? To ruin your daughter’s life?”
“I’m just here to help, and to form a relationship with my child. I’d never consider ripping a girl away from her mother.” Justin moves over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder and leaning down again on the pretense of kissing my cheek. He lowers his voice to the barest of whispers. “We’ll have fun together, I promise. I’m not as scary as Amin makes me seem. He’s a terrible actor.” Justin pats my head as he stands up, giving my lime-green hair a little rub between his thumb and forefinger. He smiles again and releases me, his eyes snagging briefly on Chasm’s before he turns back around. “Well? Do we have a deal?”
Tess brings the phone away from her ear, her gaze locked on me. She looks like a woman who’s losing her daughter for the second time. I feel so guilty that I could scream. And tomorrow, I really am going to lunch with this guy. I’m going to leave this house with the Seattle Slayer.
And then what?
Then fucking what?
“I don’t give a fuck what she says: you’re not going with this nutjob. Parrish wouldn’t want that.” He might be whispering, but Chasm sounds so firm in his statement, like he thinks either of us has much say in this. At this point, I have exactly two options. The first is that I go with Justin as he wants, and both Parrish and I have a chance. The second is that I get ahold of those female FBI agents and tell them everything, give Parrish up, and try to save myself.
That second option … isn’t really an option at all, is it?
“What choice have you given me, Justin?” Tess asks, her voice like an icy stalactite that’s just dropped from the ceiling and is plummeting straight at my bio dad’s face. I know that Tess grew up poor, but that she got a scholarship to attend Whitehall Prep when she was in tenth grade. Is that where she met Justin? He said he was born and raised in Medina, so that’d make sense.
No wonder Tess lied about my father, why she tried to keep his story from me. So … how the hell did Saffron know that the guy was bad news? Bad enough that she felt it necessary to warn me … and kidnap me?
Looking at them both now, all I see is the adult versions of the monsters that attend school with me. Guess it’s just endemic in this area. Plotting, scheming, cruelty, power plays, money, sex … control. It all comes right back to that, doesn’t it?
“You’ve been imagining me as the broke, homeless, lunatic you dumped in a facility all those years ago.” Justin just keeps on smiling as he delivers the verbal blows, one after the other, but the longer he holds the expression, the more that it begins to look like a grimace. “But things have changed, Tess. I’m the one with the money and the power, just like I used to be. You’re going to have to get used to being the lucky piece of trailer trash all over again.”
I bite my tongue so hard that it bleeds.
I want to tear this guy down so bad—even if Tess sort of deserves this moment.
Paul takes off down the hall, heading into his office and then slamming the door behind him.
“Dakota, go get dressed,” Tess says quietly, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s staring at Justin instead.
I don’t say a word, slipping past her up the stairs.
Chasm follows after me, and even though Tess actually breaks her stare with Justin to look at him, she doesn’t stop us as we flee into my bedroom.
“Look at me, Little Sister,” he says as I try to yank my arm from his grip. “You cannot go with that man tomorrow. If you do, I’ll …” His voice cracks as he whirls me around and slams me into the wall beside the bathroom door. My breath releases in a rush, and my heart is beating so fast that I feel dizzy. “I’ll never see you again.”
“It’s not his goal to hurt me, Chas,” I start and then pause, adjusting my words so that they actually make sense. “Not physically hurt me, I mean. He isn’t trying to kill me. If he’d wanted to do that, I’d be dead already. I’d be long dead. He wants me to like him. Didn’t you see the way he was looking at me?”
Chasm narrows his eyes and shakes his head, still holding my wrists against the wall—still as cautious as ever about my broken fingers though.
“I love Parrish, but I’m not letting you commit suicide in an attempt to save him. He told me to take care of you.”
“Yes, and he also said I should leave him to die and save myself. Are we taking his instructions literally now? You have to let me do this. Maybe this is part of Justin’s plan. He clearly wants to use Parrish to promote his new app. Maybe we were never actually meant to find him, and Justin was just messing with us. We could … what if we got him back soon?”
“You’re grasping at straws here, Little Sister. That’s not how it’s going to go down. If you let Justin Prior take you away, you’ll never be the same again.” He releases my wrists with a huff, and I rub them together to brush away the ache. His fingers left slight red marks on my flesh, but I actually don’t mind.
I just wish he’d kissed me before he let me go.
“It’s worth the risk,” I tell him yet again, and I mean it. Eventually, I’m sure I’ll find out that Chasm was right. It might not be the first visit or the second, but at some point, I know that I’m going to have to face a trial or two to get out of this on the other side.
Because this isn’t ‘just’ about getting Parrish back. It’s about me. Justin Prior isn’t going to simply let me go. Oh no. Just like before, I’m not simply trying to sidestep his pieces in a drawn-out chess match: I need to checkmate his king.
“I know what I’m doing,” I say aloud, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t just Chasm that needs reassuring.
I can hardly breathe for the duration of the press conference. There are so many people crammed into our house, so many cameras, so many flashing lights and shouting voices. The way everyone talks
about Parrish—like he’s already dead—infuriates me.
That, and I’m struggling with the normal anxiety that comes with being in front of a crowd of people. It’s a lot to deal with. Especially when Justin introduces himself for the camera. His assistant with the zebra glasses is in here coordinating things for him.
It’s all so … seamless.
Tess is absolutely right: this wasn’t something he thought of on the fly.
Oh no, he’s been planning this for some time—since the day I arrived in Washington state. Maybe before. But what I can say for certain is that the heart pin was in my drawer the moment I walked into that bedroom, just waiting for me.
Justin knew. He already fucking knew. And on top of that, he must’ve already had a plant in the house to get that pin inside my nightstand drawer.
When he introduces the name—and purpose—of the app, I almost lose my shit.
“Fortunately, my daughter is already returned safely to me,” Justin says, sitting beside Tess and Paul on the couch. “But I’ve spent the last fourteen years of my life developing this very tech: tech that’s meant to bring lost children home through facial recognition. If we hadn’t had such luck locating Dakota, I’d intended on using our new app to bring her home.” He turns to the sea of reporters with such a genuine expression on his face that I’d likely believe him—you know, if he hadn’t kidnapped my crush and tortured him by cutting giant gouges in his chest every day for fourteen days. “Instead, I’m dedicating every resource that my company has at its disposal to help my ex-wife find her son.”
He reaches out and puts a hand atop Tess’. To her credit, her expression doesn’t change one bit. She’s got that power bitch neutral thing going on.
“I dream of a world where no child is ever separated from their parents, where no child ever goes missing.” Justin accepts a milk carton from his assistant, setting it on the table and turning it around so that a child’s smiling face is beaming at the camera. The words above her head read MISSING CHILD.
She is … me.
I recognize the baby picture as one of the ones that was on the Netflix documentary that changed—and ruined—my entire life. But also … my eyes slide over to where Chasm’s standing at the edge of the crowd. He’s full-on slouchy bad boy today, one foot kicked up against the wall, the sleeves of his Whitehall Prep dress shirt rolled up to reveal inked forearms. He’s even got a cigarette stuck between his lips, unlit and hanging.
Our eyes meet.
If I had the chance, would I rewind time and turn that documentary off, start up a K-drama while Nevaeh bitched and Sally sighed dramatically? Would I do all that knowing what I was giving up?
The answer to that question terrifies me.
I turn my attention back to Justin.
“We’ve come a long, long way since grainy black and white photos and simply hoping for the best. That’s why my new app—Milk Carton—was created: not just for peace of mind, but to dig into dangerous situations and discover the truth. Whether Parrish Vanguard is alive or dead, we’ll find him.”
I cannot be the only person in that room who shudders at the way he says it.
The crowd is abuzz with chatter and shouted questions, but I don’t pay attention to any of it.
All I can think is: what the hell happens next in all of this?
“What the fuck did I just miss?” Maxx asks, staring at Justin Prior from across the hallway. He’s just come back from the track, and there’s a fine layer of dust on his green, black, and white riding gear. He’s a bit sweaty, and his dark hair is mussed up from being stuck inside a helmet all day.
He must’ve rushed back here after getting Chasm’s text about Justin—he didn’t even stop to shower.
I refuse to allow myself to appreciate any of that, either his appearance or his dedication.
“This is my … biological father, Justin Prior,” I explain, gesturing to the man standing near the front door. Maxx, Chasm, and I are clustered near the garage door watching the man with unbridled suspicion. Tess and Paul are out front, finishing up with the last of the reporters.
Justin, thankfully, is on his way out. His assistant is helping him into what appears to be an absurdly expensive suit jacket.
Maxx just stares at the man with a gaze so dark that it gives me chills. When he turns it over to me, I shiver involuntarily.
“This is the bastard who has Parrish?” he murmurs as Chasm studies my bio dad with an expression very similar to the one X is wearing. If given the chance, I think any one of us might just stab the creep. If I at all thought it would be that easy to solve our problems, I’d do it. But I don’t know where Parrish is. I don’t know how many people like Mr. Volli are working for Justin. I also really don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison. All of that, of course, depending on me actually getting the opportunity to kill the guy without him retaliating and killing me instead.
“That’s him, alright,” Chasm mutters, flicking his tongue against one of his black lip studs. “I’ll give him this: the bastard’s got balls.”
“Balls?” Maxx asks, cracking his knuckles. He’s actually still wearing his riding gloves. Yep. He must’ve seen the text and then just taken off in his Jeep without hesitation. “He’s psychotic. What does he think he’s going to accomplish by coming here?”
The assistant with the zebra glasses exits through the front door as Justin turns back to the three of us—fully aware even as he’s smiling at us that we all know the things he’s done, that he’s made us do, that he will do if given the chance.
That he’ll kill Parrish.
“I’ll tell you what he hopes to accomplish: taking Dakota out for a daddy-daughter luncheon tomorrow.” Chasm keeps his voice low when he says this, even as Justin holds out his arms like he’s offering me another hug.
“A goodbye squeeze for daddy?” he offers, and I swear, it’s like I can feel those words whiplash through Maxx like a storm. He’s moving before I can even think to stop him, and then he’s throwing a hard punch and clocking Justin Prior right in his pretty face.
The Seattle Slayer stumbles back against the wall, his hand over the lower half of his face. I can already see blood. It blooms on the white marble floor beneath his feet like a sea of wild roses.
“Maxx, stop!” I shout at the same time that Chasm curses, and then we’re both grabbing X by the arms and hauling him back. When Chas first touches him, he jerks his arm away with enough strength to send the other boy stumbling, but when I touch him … he goes almost disturbingly still. His green eyes flick down to mine, and I think about all the warnings that Chasm gave me regarding Maxx.
X turns his attention back to Justin as my bio dad pulls his hand away from his mouth, staring down at the red in his palm with a placid expression that scares me about a hundred times more than a scowl or a sneer might have.
This man is goddamn terrifying.
I see now that everything I’ve done for Parrish thus far was absolutely necessary. Looking at Justin now, do I really think he’d kill Parrish if I disobeyed him?
Oh, yeah, you bet I do.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he remarks casually, lifting his cold blue eyes up to Maxx’s face and smiling. Maxx is shaking right now, his hands squeezing into fists so tight that I can hear the creak of his riding gloves. I keep my tight grip on his arm as Chasm hovers on X’s left, ready to grab him again if necessary. Justin turns his attention to me. “Did I not tell you to choose your pawns carefully?”
He shakes his hand out, splattering yet more blood on the floor.
“If you kill Parrish, I will hunt you down,” X says, his voice this even, dark, dreadful thing. “And you won’t like what I’ll do to you when I find you.”
Justin laughs, removing his pocket square to dab at the blood streaming from his nose.
“That’s cute, Maxx Wright. Very cute.” He lifts his gaze up to mine again.
“What’s the point of all this anyway?” I whisper, squeezi
ng X’s arm even tighter when I feel him tense up. He’s on the verge of losing his shit completely; I can feel it. If any one of us were going to kill Justin, I can easily see who the most likely candidate would be.
“It’s payback, princess,” Justin says easily, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Raúl, I need a new shirt and jacket. I seem to have experienced an unfortunate nosebleed.” He hangs up and puts his phone away, studying the three of us with undisguised interest. “Surely you’ve heard stories about me already?”
“Not many,” I admit, knowing that the honest truth will upset him the most. He wants me to know about him. He wants me to know everything there is to know about his and Tess’ relationship, everything about his past, about his exploits. “When I asked Tess who my dad was initially, she said he was just some old boyfriend that she didn’t remember. I never even heard your name mentioned until you made me ask about it.”
That does it.
A muscle in Justin’s jaw ticks, but he calms himself with a deep exhale. His eyes find the framed birth certificate on the wall nearby and he taps at the glass with his knuckles, giving a low, dangerous sounding laugh. I wonder why the field for father has been left blank? Is this not my real birth certificate? Did Tess have him removed from it? Or was Justin Prior never on it at all?
“Well, I’ll tell you this right now: the people in this town are not who you think they are. They’re filthy, greedy liars who care more about themselves than the relationships they forge. I’m sure you’ve noticed how easily they’ll turn on you? Lumen Hearst, for example. Little more than animals.” Justin pauses as his assistant, Raúl apparently, reenters through the front door with a fresh jacket and dress shirt in hand. “Even if you don’t see it now, you will. I’ll make sure of that.”
Justin doesn’t seem to care that his assistant is standing right there. He continues to talk freely. That gives me yet another clue to work with. Mr. Fosser was clearly in his employ as is Mr. Volli. Apparently, so is Raúl. And I don’t just mean that the man collects a paycheck.
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 27
