by Nikki Chase
“I’ll give you more money as soon as I have it.”
“Too bad.” He continues to gawk at me, ignoring my glare.
Hey, asshole, my eyes are up here, I want to say. But I keep quiet. Getting him all worked up isn’t going to do me any good.
“Next week. Or I can’t promise you I’ll keep this between us,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
“You have a pretty roommate, and a brother.” His casual tone makes his threat sound more potent. I’ve heard stories about what Chad has done. I don’t doubt that he’s capable of carrying out his threats.
Shit. I should’ve known better than to borrow money from Chad Murray, but I was desperate at the time. I didn’t know what else I could do, who else would have such a lot of money.
“Leave them out of this.” My voice sounds shaky despite my effort to appear stoic.
“Like I said, sweetheart. I want to keep this between the two of us. It’s more intimate this way, don’t you think? You don’t really want to share me with your roommate, do you?
“But if you keep failing to pay off your debt, there’s nothing I can do. My hands are tied. I can’t just let you off the hook. My other clients would start a riot. And then I’d be out of business. That wouldn’t be good, would it?”
I swallow, forcing my eyes open to gaze at some random tree in the distance, trying to quell my tears. I can’t cry in front of Chad. No way. I can’t show him any weakness, or he’ll use it against me.
“That’s all I wanted to say tonight, sweetheart.” Chad reaches up and touches my cheek with his fingers, and I flinch away instinctively. Gross.
“I’ll see you again soon.” Chad grins, exposing his uneven teeth, stained yellow from all the cigarettes he smokes.
That’s a threat. Next time won’t be this pleasant, he seems to say.
Daisy
As soon as Chad turns around to leave, I walk briskly toward the door, fumble hastily with my keys, and quickly enter the apartment building.
I collapse into the old couch in the lobby. My legs are shaking. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I can’t show up at home pale and shivering.
When the door opens, I almost jump from the shock. I’m still high-strung from all the adrenaline.
Katie walks into the lobby. The sound of her high heels hitting the tiled floor echoes throughout the lobby. She’s off today, so she’s probably home from a dinner downtown.
She starts for the elevator. When she sees that it’s me on the couch, she takes a second look and stops.
“What are you doing here?” Her friendly smile disappears when she realizes how anxious I am. “Hey, is something wrong?”
I shake my head, but she knows me too well to buy that. Or maybe it’s too obvious I’m in distress.
“What just happened? Is something going on with Jack? Is he okay?” She takes a seat on the couch across from me and looks at me with concern in her eyes.
“No, Jack’s fine,” I reply quickly. When it comes to Jack, I get a little paranoid. Just the mention of something bad happening to Jack terrifies me. I’m afraid of tempting fate with that kind of talk.
“Then what is it?” Katie lightly rubs my arm in support.
Tears prick my eyes. I can’t stop myself from letting it out anymore. I’ve been fighting this alone, on my own, for too long. The pressure has built up, and the dam is breaking now.
“It’s okay, Daisy. I’m here,” Katie says. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“You don’t understand.” My voice is barely intelligible. The world around me has become a blurry mess, thanks to the tears drowning my eyes.
“Tell me. You know you can tell me anything,” she says.
I start to sob. I take the tissue Katie offers me and blow my nose. I must look like shit right now. I bet my face is all red and blotchy. I catch my breath compulsively, audibly, as the muscles in my throat contract from the ugly-crying.
Slowly, I tell Katie everything. From the beginning.
Katie already knows about my mom. She knows why I have to adopt Jack, my half-brother from a different father.
My mom is not a horrible human being, but she has a shitty taste in men, and she shouldn’t have had children. Her boyfriends always drink too much, work too little, or have too many girlfriends on the side.
One thing they have in common, though, is a gambling habit. For as long as I can remember, Mom always spends a few nights out of the week at the casino.
When I was nine, I had my first sleepover at a friend’s house, and I was shocked to see her mom prepare an actual home-cooked meal and stay home to tuck us in.
My mom, on the other hand, would blow her entire pay check on the blackjack table. She often runs out of money to pay the bills. She can’t even borrow money from anyone anymore because she never pays her loans back.
Her life is a train wreck, and I’ve worked hard to escape that situation.
When I moved out, Jack was still living with her. Mom would call me at random times, asking for money to pay the bills, because, as she’d say, “They’ll shut off the water/gas/electricity and Jack can’t deal with that.”
I offered to take Jack into my apartment. I knew Mom would be happy to get him off her hands, so I was hoping it would happen without a glitch.
I forgot how greedy she could be, though. And this is the part I haven’t told anyone—not even Katie. Until now.
“You know how hard my mom fought me when I tried to get Jack to move in?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she… She kinda blackmailed me into paying her. She said she was going to report Jack as kidnapped if I didn’t pay her.”
“That bitch!” Katie curses.
“At the time, I thought it was a good idea to avoid taking the legal route because everyone told me lawyers were expensive,” I say.
Katie gives me a look. “That was a mistake, right? You know she’s a money-sucking vampire who wouldn't stop until she's snatched the shirt off your back.”
“I know that now. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. I don’t know.”
“A lawyer would’ve been cheaper, I bet.”
“Yeah. That was my next lesson. But then I also couldn’t have legally adopted Jack until I turned twenty-one a few months ago. As soon as that happened, though, I hired a lawyer. That was also about the time I realized my mom was never going to leave us in peace.”
“You paid both your mom and a lawyer? How did I not know this?”
“Well, I’m pretty sneaky.” I smile, even as tears continue streaming down my face. “And you were pretty busy with your own stuff.”
“When was this?”
“When we first started to work at St. Peter’s. My mom kept asking for more and more money, saying she knew nurses made a lot of money.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.”
“You were already helping me enough. You covered my portion of the rent sometimes, remember?”
“Well, yeah. But if I knew you were in that kind of trouble, I would’ve gone out less, maybe take a bagged lunch every day to work. I don’t know. I would’ve done more.”
“You’ve done enough, Katie. And I’ll make it up to you someday.”
“So you had enough to pay everything? I know you save up a lot of your money, but damn. I earn about the same amount as you do and I don’t have any savings, even though I don’t have lawyer expenses, or crazy-mom expenses.”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t what?”
“I didn’t have enough money. Lawyers are expensive, Katie. Plus, by the time I got a lawyer, I’d already wasted so much money paying my mom.”
“So you got a loan from the bank, right? Or used your credit card?”
“Yeah. I did both, but that still wasn’t enough money.”
“Daisy, what did you do?” Katie gives me a grave look. She knows I must’ve done something stupid.
“I borrowed so
me money from Chad Murray,” I say quickly in one breath before I can change my mind about telling Katie.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck.”
“How much do you owe him?”
“A lot. But I don’t want you to worry. I’m making my payments and I should have it all paid off in no time,” I say. I’m lying again, but what can Katie do to help me anyway? She’s just told me she has no savings.
Katie looks at me incredulously. She frowns and studies me with her brown eyes. She sighs, knowing she can’t make me tell her what I don’t want her to know.
“Tell me if it gets overwhelming, okay? I’ll do anything to help you,” she says as she pulls me into a hug.
“Okay.” I force myself to smile so Katie doesn’t worry.
I’ve been tossing and turning in my bed for hours now.
I feel better after talking to Katie, but a conversation can’t solve my problems. I still have a huge, debilitating debt, and a violent loan shark still wants to hurt me—and my family.
One thing the conversation did, though, was make it painfully clear what my options really are.
I can stay chained to my debt forever, with the risk of failing to satisfy Chad Murray anyway, or I can take Caine Foster up on his offer.
Between Chad Murray and Caine Foster, I’d pick the latter in a heartbeat.
Sure, he’s hardly a knight in shining armor, but he’s obviously the better option here.
One month, instead of years. Someone I’m actually attracted to, instead of someone who repulses me.
If I have to lose my virginity to either one of those two anyway, I’d rather pick Caine Foster.
Besides, he mentioned something about a negotiation. Maybe if I play my cards right, I can get enough money to put Jack through college. That way, he’ll have a better start in life, without any debt weighing him down.
This is not the time to be sentimental. Virginity isn’t anything real. It’s just a thin membrane in my vagina. It’s just sex. I need to be practical here. Katie and Jack’s safety depends on how I handle this situation.
I get up from my single bed, careful not to make any sound. I pick up the trash can by the desk and take it outside, careful to slowly open the door so it doesn’t creak too loudly.
Jack is sleeping and I don’t want to wake him up. The last thing I need right now is more questions. I’ve told enough secrets tonight.
I sit on the couch in the living room and sift through the trash. The whole apartment is quiet, except for the sound of paper rustling in the trash can and my own loud heartbeat.
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
Finally, I find it. Caine Foster’s business card. For once, I’m glad Jack never empties the trash.
As I pick up my phone, I realize my hands are shaking. This is, by far, the craziest thing I’ll ever do. Not even Katie would go for something this nuts. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
I enter Caine’s cell number into the phone and type a message. I stare at the letters until my eyes lose focus. It feels like time stands still.
I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life, but I can’t tell right now if I’ll remember this decision as a good one, or a bad one.
Okay, this is it.
I’m ready to negotiate.
I press the Send button.
Caine
I press my fingers to my temple, where a vein is popping out and throbbing. The city skyline looks beautiful outside, the skyscrapers bright with artificial light against the night sky, but I can't enjoy the view with this fucking headache.
Jesus, no wonder Pop was so stressed out and grumpy all the time. The old man still takes care of a lot of things himself, instead of delegating some of the work to his underlings.
To be fair, I suffer from the same failing. It’s no surprise, I suppose. I am my father’s son, after all.
Growing up, I often asked the driver who picked me up at school to take me to Pop’s office, and I’d hang out there until it was time for him to go home.
He wasn’t always in the office, but I could always manage to find interesting stuff to do, like bouncing a tennis ball off the wall, or lying on my back and throwing a basketball to myself. I don’t know. I was a kid. It was easy to entertain myself. As long as I wasn’t at home with her, I was happy.
Besides, I never had to wait a long time for Pop to be finished. As busy as he was, he never came home late at night. He always made time for the family.
When Pop was in his office with me, I often saw him have a long conversation on the phone only to end it by saying, “If I want it done right, I have to do it myself.” And then he’d roll up his sleeves, ruffle my hair, and leave in a rush.
Watching him at work as much as I have, it’s natural for his attitude to rub off on me. Cole’s a lot more laid back than I am when it comes to work, especially after he got together with Emily. I’ve always wondered if it’s because he doesn’t spend as much time with Pop as I do.
In those days, I’d sometimes sit in Pop’s big leather chair and pretend to have an important conference call. At the end of the imaginary phone call, I’d grab one of Pop’s cigars and stare out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, wishing I’d grow up quickly so I could rule the world.
And now, here I am, in the same office, staring out the same window with a glass of whiskey in my hand. The old leather chair has been replaced by another one just like it—Pop has very particular tastes when it comes to office furniture. He even has the same chair in his home office.
In the past few years, he’d been spending less and less time here at the corporate headquarters, and more time at the home office. But I’ve also asked the home-care nurse to limit his time there to two hours a day. Whether she’ll manage to stop the stubborn old fool from working remains to be seen.
I don’t know how Pop does it, how he manages to accomplish so much with the same number of hours that other people have.
I’ve only just started taking over his work, so perhaps it’s natural for me to need some adjustment. I’m just glad Uncle Nathan isn’t also having health problems, although he and Pop are about the same age. Without him, I’d be completely overwhelmed.
And to think, I now have to do Pop’s job indefinitely. I thought I could go back to my own work as soon as he got out of the hospital. Fuck, I guess I’m stuck with this mountain of work forever now.
With all the tension and stress building up inside me, I need some kind of release. Too bad my preferred kind of release is not available…yet.
I can’t wait to get my hands on Daisy. It would feel so satisfying to come home after a long day at work to an obedient pet who welcomes me with a subservient smile on her face and nothing else.
Ah, fuck it. No one else is in the office at this time of the night. The office door is locked, and all my work for the day is done.
My belt buckle clangs when I yank it off. I unzip my pants and pull my cock out.
I imagine myself walking through the front door of my apartment. Daisy crawls on all fours into the lobby and kneels before me as I take a seat on the bench. She looks up at me, asking me for permission to touch my cock, which is already stirring in my pants.
“I’ve been waiting all day to taste you,” she says with a flirty smile.
I only have to nod at her, and she starts to stroke me through my pants, biting her lower lip like she can't wait. With her other hand, she frees my cock. She licks her lips and looks at me with submission in her pretty green eyes, like all that matters to her right now is serving me, pleasing me with every part of her body.
I’ve trained her to fix her gaze on me, so she maintains eye contact as she starts to lick me from the base, starting with the side of the shaft. I’m throbbing and pulsing now. I can't wait for her to put me in her mouth but, at the same time, I’m loving this show she's putting on for me.
Daisy runs her wet tongue up and down my underside until she reaches the top. She t
akes some time to tease the stretch of skin at the top of the shaft. This feels amazing, but I’m impatient now. She swirls her tongue around the head of my cock and I groan, which only makes her smile.
“It's not the time to be smiling, kitten. Open your mouth.”
As Daisy parts her lips, I grab her hair and push her head down until more and more of my hard cock plunges into her wet, warm mouth.
“Relax your jaw and throat like I taught you,” I order.
She obeys, and I slip into her throat. The view is so damn hot. She manages to fit all of me inside her, and I stroke her hair to reward her. Her eyes water, but she stays in place and continues to keep her gaze on me as I slide in and out of her throat, my shaft rubbing against her soft lips.
I shuttle my fist up and down my shaft. It feels good, but nowhere near how it would feel with Daisy’s throat wrapped around it, nowhere near as wet or tight or pretty. Fuck!
I focus on the image I have in my head, of my rock-hard cock disappearing into her mouth, her lipstick smeared all over my shaft and her face.
It doesn't actually feel as good as it should; my hand isn't as wet or warm or tight as Daisy’s mouth would be, but I come anyway. I come with a grunt, while in my imagination I have one hand on the back of Daisy’s head, pushing her down onto my cock, my hand grabbing and pulling her hair.
While I clean up, my phone bleeps. A text message. I wonder who's looking for me at this time of the night. Is something wrong with Pop, perhaps?
I grab my phone from the desk. It's Daisy, the girl who starred in the porn my brain has just made up. The message is short, with only four words:
I’m ready to negotiate.
Looks like I won't have to rely on my imagination for much longer. I smile to myself in the empty, quiet office. I knew she'd come around.
She has just sent this text message seconds ago. She's still awake. My father has always taught me to strike while the iron is hot. I press the Call button and listen to the dial tone.
I know exactly how I'm going to handle this situation. I want to end this call with a deal in place. I always get what I want from a negotiation; I do it every fucking day.
