Overnight.
That’s how long they’ve kept me in this fucking cell. Me. A Drevlow.
But that’s exactly why I’ve been here this long. Because my father, Mr. Drevlow, demanded that I stay here and “learn my lesson”.
He knows I took the blame.
Fuck. I took the blame.
I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees, and run my hand over my buzz cut. Everything’s shaking. My leg is bouncing.
All I can imagine is Lexi out there, suffering. Thinking God knows what.
In my defense, at the time I believed I would be out of here in three hours, tops. Not that I’d be here until the next day.
The logic was simple: I was going to take the blame. All of us would pay for whatever pain my girl is going through.
And I was going to have enough time to get to her, explain my plan.
As long as the cops believe I was in on the whole recording plan, I can make it seem more legit when we’re all brought before the school board.
There’s no doubt. We will be. This entire ordeal goes against the very stringent rules set forth by the board.
I don’t give a fuck that this will get me thrown out of school—actually, I’m banking on it.
I’m taking all those motherfuckers with me when I go.
By now, my father knows I said I was in on this. He should’ve been proud. Ecstatic that I hurt Berkman’s daughter.
The fact that he left me here overnight and sent me that little message via my lawyer can only mean one thing.
My father knows I’m lying.
Either Kaylee got to him and told him the truth . . .
Or I couldn’t convince him that I’d changed my mind about wanting Lexi. Couldn’t undo my mistake of telling him I wanted to be with her.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I haven’t slept. Can’t. Has nothing to do with being in this cell.
Everything feels wrong. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe like there’s some telepathic connection between me and Lexi.
It’s almost like I can feel everything she’s feeling. Can feel how the damage sinks in deeper with every moment that she’s out there without me.
I have to get to her. Have to explain . . .
“Daddy said you can finally go, tough shot.”
The sound of keys, more than that asshole’s taunts, bring me back to reality. I’m on my feet before he’s even fully done opening the door.
My lawyer is standing just outside the holding area. He steps toward me as I barrel out, his mouth open to speak.
“Not now.” I storm past him.
He’s calling my name. Chasing after me. Ignoring him, I head straight to the door—
My father steps inside, his back straight. Bearing impeccable in his ridiculously expensive suit.
He’s staring right in front of the door, blocking my way. I hope for his sake he gets the hint when I don’t slow down and he moves out of the way.
Of course, he doesn’t.
He reaches out to grab my arms as I approach. The look on his face is one I know well.
He’s ready to lay down his law with me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He grabs my arms.
I tell him once, calmly, “Let me go.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I said, let me go!” I yell, shoving him out of my way with all my strength. Several voices yell out behind me as I barge out the door.
There’s no stopping to take in the fact that I finally got to push my father. Give him some of the aggression I’ve been choking on for so long.
No stopping to be ashamed at my thoughts either.
Shit. Shit. I don’t have my car here with me. Obviously, my father isn’t going to let me take his car to get back to Lexi.
Fuck it. I’ll run.
51
“What else did he do?”
Hell. I think I’m still shaking my head. Forcing myself to stop, I somehow find the strength to look him right in the eye.
Pretending I’m not lying.
That I’m not panicking.
What about me gave it away? What? Damn it.
“You can’t force me to work up here with you, Andrew.”
Just minutes ago, he was treading carefully with me. Trying not to scare me.
My words drag something different out of him. Gone is the soothing, cautious Andrew. A hardness falls over him, the kind of unrelenting energy that signals his indomitable will.
“Lexi. You’re under contract. I’m your boss. And I need you up here.”
My lips fall open at his audacity. At the calm way he stated that. “You’re really going there?”
“You and I have an enemy in common, Ms. Berkman. I need you to become my right hand in order for us to succeed.”
“I hate you,” I say, blinking in disbelief. “How could you want me to be your right hand?”
“And I—” He inhales deeply instead of finishing what he was going to say.
“You what?”
Shaking his head, Andrew leans back on his desk and crosses his arms; the exact same pose he’d been in when I first approached the glass wall. “I’m your boss and I’m telling you I need you here.”
“I need to be able to coordinate the team. Paul. Megan—”
“She’s been promoted to your position. You’ll be coordinating the team from up here.”
My face burns hot with frustration. With the futility suddenly creeping in on me. I remember this feeling of having my choices taken away from me by a prick with too much power.
“I’m the best fucking coder in this entire building, Drew.” Once again, that freaking nickname leaves my mouth before I realize it.
Andrew’s expression softens. “I know, Lexi. And I’m not too shabby myself.”
I know. I remember. He was a genius back then, I can only imagine how dangerous that mind is now.
Still. “You aren’t better than me.”
He nods. “No I’m not. But together, we’d be beyond dangerous and you know it.”
Deep down, I know he’s right. The logic is irrefutable. Bringing down Menahan isn’t just about releasing a headset beyond superior to his. Undermining his company by taking top spot.
It’s about finding ways into his systems. Getting the information we need to truly ruin him and his entire family name.
The devil fuck me, but I’ll be helping the Drevlow name grow with that outcome.
But as long as my mother gets the help she needs out of this, what else can I do?
“You’re starting to see my logic, aren’t you?”
Fucking asshole.
Fisting my hands, I looked around the office. My new workplace. “I’ll only agree to work up here on one condition.”
“Shoot.”
Huffing out a sarcastic laugh, I turn back to him. “You confessed to the cops.” I saw the video. His father made it his mission to come show me.
And then he offered me that bargain, and I was stupid enough to take it.
Stupid enough to send myself down such a horrid path.
“I did.” Andrew stares into my eyes.
Swallowing, I blink back tears. “So you admit you betrayed me.” What am I expecting, a different answer? I saw the video for myself!
His head tilts back and his expression turns defiant. “I’ll tell you the exact details of what happened back then—”
“So it was more than that?” Was that a hint of desperation I heard in my tone?
“—if you tell me what happened between you and Stephen. All of it.”
Why does he keep asking me?
Obviously, I know. I did something that gave it away. Andrew suspects Stephen abused me much more than I’m letting on.
I’ll never let him know. I can’t. All these years, it was about getting away. Every step calculated. Planned. I needed to escape Stephen’s hold and that was all I could focus on.
I’d just rediscovered sexual pleasure at the hands of the man
before me.
Dealing with what happened to me, though? No. I hadn’t even begun processing that fully.
How the hell was I even supposed to?
And Andrew expected me to share it? Out of his mind. It felt too private. Too . . . too . . . “You know what? Forget this.” I turned to leave.
“Please.”
My heart crumbles painfully. I pause mid-step, pressing a hand to my chest. Why is it hurting so much?
“Lexi, please.”
I spin to face Drew again, dropping my hand.
He’s still in the same position I left him, but his eyes . . .
God help me, I’m in so much pain right now.
“Being up here is going to be hard,” I confess, my tone weaker than it should be.
His eyes somehow soften even more. “I know.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because I honestly have no choice.”
About the Author
N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I.Lynn, and many others. At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.
That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything else.
Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the hopes of one day getting them under control.
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Systematic Siege Box Set: Parts 1-3 Page 15
