by Nikki Chase
“You’re going to order your men to rape her?”
“I don’t have to order them to do anything.” Nathan chuckles again, the sound grating against my eardrums. “I’m just not going to stop them from doing whatever they want to do.”
“Okay, I’ll sign.”
My jaw slackens. I can’t believe Caine is going to give up just like that.
No! I want to scream. They’re going to kill us both, and your whole family, too! But no words come out. The hand over my mouth muffles any sound I make.
“Smart boy,” Nathan says. “Just sign, and then we can all move on with our lives.”
“I’ll sign your papers, but there’s no need for violence. Tell your men to leave, and tell Todd to put away his gun.”
“You think I’m stupid? I’m an old man. I know my limits. I’m not going to win in a fist fight with you.”
“I’m not going to fight you, Uncle Nathan.” Caine walks toward the desk and puts his palms on the glass surface. “But fine, the men can stay. Just put all the guns away so I know you won’t just put a hole in my head as soon as I sign. I’m not stupid either. I know I’ve lost this battle. I just need some insurance. I need to know we’ll walk out of this building alive.”
Nathan pauses to think. After a few long, tense seconds, he says, “Alright. Boys, put away your weapons. Todd, lock all the guns in the safe, will you?”
“Yes, Dad,” Todd says as he collects all the weapons.
I jump at the metallic clang of the safe door, my coiled muscles springing to action at the noise. Still, there’s nothing I can do, with the burly man behind me holding me down. Todd puts the guns in the safe and shuts the door.
All eyes are on Nathan as he slides a stack of paper across the desk toward Caine.
“So, let’s get a few things straight before I sign, Uncle Nathan. Just so everything’s clear.” Caine pulls the seat across the desk from Nathan.
The tension is so thick you could cut it with a butter knife, but Caine’s movements are as smooth and graceful as usual when he sits down.
“You want me to sign away the business to you,” Caine says.
“Yes.”
“If I don’t sign, you’ll use violence—excuse me, strength—against me and Daisy here, as well as my father, presumably.”
“Yes.”
Caine pauses. I can only see his broad back from where I’m sitting, but the office is so quiet I can hear it when he takes his next deep breath.
In a loud voice, Caine yells, “Did you get that, Paul?”
Caine
“Loud and clear!” Paul yells back, his voice coming through the door and the big window that separates us from the rest of the office.
“Who’s that?” Uncle Nathan hurriedly gets up from his swivel chair, alarmed. His eyebrows shoot up, his eyes widen. All his cool is gone, replaced by panic. In just a few seconds, the tables have turned.
He looks around, scanning the office, looking at the door, then at his men, then at me, then at his son, who’s just standing in place with his jaw hanging open like an idiot.
For the first time in my life, I see Uncle Nathan completely bewildered, out of control, and I like seeing him like this. He seems to remember something, then starts for the safe.
Oh no, you don’t.
I dash toward Uncle Nathan, my chair toppling behind me, banging loudly against the carpeted floor.
He reaches for the safe. Before he can touch the silver number pad, my fist connects with the side of his face, sending him flying. He yowls as he falls down on the floor.
“I guess you’re right, Uncle Nathan. You’re old and your fists are useless,” I say, taunting him.
That’ll teach him to fuck with my girl, or my family.
The door bursts open. Armed men in uniform flood the office.
“Was that really necessary?” Paul stands at the door and gives me a look when he sees Uncle Nathan lying flat on his back, rubbing his reddened face.
“He was reaching for the guns.” I shrug.
To be honest, maybe it wasn’t necessary. With the cops so close, there’s no way he would’ve had enough time to open the safe, but I couldn’t have passed up the chance to punch the motherfucker in the face.
It felt so damn satisfying. Decades from now, I’m sure I’ll remember that moment with a big smile on my face, recalling the feeling of his old, wrinkled face on my knuckles.
It was the opportunity of a lifetime. When will I get another chance to hit him in the face without consequences?
Paul knows it’s a blatant lie, but he just shakes his head.
Meanwhile, Paul’s men quickly and efficiently disable Nathan, Todd, and the two thugs. Without their weapons, it’s a simple matter of wrangling them into handcuffs.
They cut the ropes around Daisy and hand her a blanket to cover herself. Poor Daisy, caught in the middle of my family’s antics, blamed for trying to tell me the truth.
I take a seat beside her shaking body on the couch, trying to make as little noise or movement as possible. I don’t want to scare her any more than she already is.
Her tense little body is curled in a protective ball. She’s shaking with her head between her knees. She seems to be having problems grappling with the new developments.
I want to pull her against my chest and comfort her with kisses and caresses. Considering the way we left things earlier, though, with me hurling hard words at her like weapons, I’m probably not the most comforting person to her right now. I touch her arm as gently as I can, but she still jumps with surprise.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s over. You’re okay now,” I say in a soothing voice.
Daisy raises her head slightly, just enough for her to see me. Her arms, wrapped around herself, block the rest of the room from her view.
“Did they hurt you? Are you injured at all?”
Daisy shakes her head, her eyes still widened in fear, her mouth tightly shut.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. God, I was so fucking stupid. Please be okay.”
Someone pats me on the back. I look up to see Paul. I’ve been so focused on Daisy I’ve forgotten all about my surroundings.
“Good job, Caine. That was a good move, coming to me with the information,” he says.
“Thanks, Paul.” I look up and nod. I helped him solve this case and catch the bad guy, but I owe him too for backing me up.
He was the one who came up with the idea to have Sasha bug Uncle Nathan’s office when she brought him tea earlier tonight. We were lucky Sasha was working for Uncle Nathan. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have anybody we could use to plant the bug.
Now we can use the recording as evidence for the hearing and we can put them all in prison for a long time. They won’t be bothering my family again, and neither will Paul, now that the real culprits behind the latest rise in illegal activities have been apprehended.
Uncle Nathan may have thrived back in the days when my grandfather reigned, but things are different now. Like us, the cops have cleaned up, and they wouldn’t look the other way like they used to.
I wonder why Uncle Nathan was so blind that he couldn’t see how much things have changed, considering how smart he usually is.
Maybe he’s old, too, like my father. Maybe it’s time for him to retire. Well, he can enjoy those golden years in prison.
“Can you have someone look at her?” I ask Paul. I don’t know if Paul has paramedics downstairs, and Daisy doesn’t seem to have sustained any physical injury, but I need to be sure.
To my relief, Paul nods.
The only reason why Daisy’s caught up in this whole mess is because of me.
I already hate myself for screaming accusations and insults at her. I won’t’ be able to live with myself if she suffered any permanent damage, physical or otherwise.
Daisy
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Katie tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear as she hands me a glass of water.
T
his hospital room feels familiar, safe. After being away from work for a couple of weeks, I miss the order and the cleanliness here.
“I can tell Caine to leave if you don’t want to see him. He doesn’t scare me,” Katie says.
“Yeah, you already told me about how you kept him outside when he came looking for me at home.” I grin, thinking about how fiercely protective Katie’s being. She’s a little crazy, but that’s why I love her.
“I’ll go get him, then. You’re sure, though, right?” Katie asks one more time.
“Yeah.”
Katie slips out of the hospital room, closing the door softly behind her, leaving me alone in my bed,
I don’t know what Caine told the admitting nurse about why I’m here at the hospital. He’s probably sticking to the story about how I’m providing care for his father.
Or maybe he hasn’t told anybody anything. He’s definitely powerful enough to get what he wants without providing much in the way of explanation.
Having worked here at St. Peter’s Hospital for a while, I can tell that Caine probably waved his Foster privilege in the face of whoever was manning the reception desk tonight.
I’m getting special treatment, for sure, especially considering I haven’t sustained much physical injury. I just have little cuts and bruises from having been manhandled by Nathan’s thugs.
I’m glad Katie’s here because she can tell me what’s going on outside. At least it’s pretty quiet tonight, so it’s not like there’s a bunch of people who need medical attention more urgently than I do. I was worried about pushing someone down the waiting list, or taking a hospital bed from someone who needs it more than I do.
Caine may not think twice about using his power to make things go whatever way he wants, even if he’d be putting other people at a disadvantage in the process. He may not care about how his actions affect them because they’re just strangers to him, but I do.
I wonder if the events of the night will appear on the news.
When I went down from Nathan’s office to the ground level of the building, I was surprised to see the buildings and the streets painted red and blue by the flashing lights on top of the police cars. I also saw some news vans with the familiar logos of the local TV stations.
I won’t be surprised if some of the details appear on the news. Even if they do, though, I may not be mentioned at all. I’m just a nobody. The news will probably focus on the Foster family drama.
I’m glad to stay out of the limelight. After everything that has happened over the past couple of weeks, I’m ready to hide out in a cave for some peace and quiet.
The door opens again, and my ears prick up to listen. There’s a small hallway that blocks my view of the room entrance, but I can tell by the sound of the steps that Caine’s in the room. He’s stepping closer and closer, his expensive Italian leather shoes taking sure steps on the linoleum floor.
“Hey, you’re awake.” Caine runs his long, graceful fingers through his thick hair, which is uncharacteristically messy with sweat and stress. He looks older than he usually does. Exhaustion is etched into the lines in his face and the bags underneath his blue eyes.
“Yeah.”
No lie, my first instinct is to spread my arms so Caine can come over and give me a big hug. I’d feel much comfort in his arms. It would feel so safe and warm. He seems like he could use a good hug himself.
Instead, I stay quiet and unmoving, except for the natural rise and fall of my chest as I breathe.
I don’t know what to make of everything that has happened tonight. We went from being a client and a service provider, to a former employer and a fired employee, to a rescuer and a damsel in distress. What are we now, and how are we supposed to act around each other?
Caine pulls the visitor’s chair closer toward the bed and takes a seat.
“Are you okay?” Worry and concern dull his normally brilliant eyes.
“Yeah. I’m not hurt too badly.”
“Thank God.” He heaves a big sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if you got seriously hurt.”
“Did you tell them to give me priority?”
“I did.”
“You know I wouldn’t have wanted you to do that.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m not sorry I did it. I needed to make sure you’re okay.”
Silence reigns again, both of us lost in our own thoughts, too baffled by our own mixed feelings to say anything about what’s really plaguing us.
I decide to start with the obvious question. “How did you even know I was there?”
“After you left, my father told me he’s always had his suspicions about Uncle Nathan, so I realized you were probably right about Todd being the person who had bugged my room.
“I thought about how he would’ve expected to drop by my empty apartment, and saw you there instead. He would’ve taken note of your presence because it was unusual. Instead of screaming at you, I should’ve thanked you. Without you there, he would’ve been able to put his bugs all over the apartment.”
I give him a wry smile. Inwardly, there’s a battle between my anger at the way he dismissed what I’d said, and my delight at hearing how he doesn’t usually have a girl staying in his apartment. It makes me feel special, despite every little shitty thing he’s done.
“Then, I went to your apartment,” Caine says. “Your roommate told me that you weren’t home, and that you were probably gone to see Chad Murray.
“I didn’t realize it right away, but the name sounded familiar. I remembered Paul, the cop, had mentioned it before, when he was accusing my father of having been responsible for some illegal activities.
“I called Paul and we connected the dots, then we came up with a plan together. I called Sasha, who happened to be working at Uncle Nathan’s office while he was looking for a new assistant. I asked her to put a small microphone somewhere in the office when she delivered him the cup of tea he asked for every night. I’d worked with the man for years and I knew his habits.
“When I went to the office, we already had a plan, but I almost ruined it by rushing into the room when I heard your screaming.”
I wince, remembering the reason for my screaming. Caine stares sadly at me, while maintaining a respectful distance.
There’s nothing strange going on in this room to a casual observer, but this feels bizarre to me. Normally, Caine would be touching me, kissing me, caressing me. It still feels like we’re magnets, being pulled toward each other, but he’s holding back, afraid of being yet another man to touch me without my permission tonight.
“How’s your hand?” I remember he punched Nathan in the face, and wonder if he hurt himself doing that.
Sometimes, the bones in the hand can fracture from delivering a closed-fisted punch. I’ve seen this injury a lot in the ER on weekends, when bar fights are common.
“It’s okay,” he says, raising his right hand, which doesn’t look okay. It’s red and swollen.
I hold out my hand. When Caine puts his hand on mine, my heart skips in my chest, and my palm buzzes with electricity from this innocent touch. I tell myself I’m just inspecting his injury, like I do every day at work, but it’s never been easy to keep things strictly business with this man.
“I’m so sorry to have put you through this,” he says, his eyes gleaming with sincerity. “I’m sorry for the way I yelled at you, for the horrible things I called you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope for it, regardless.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you care what happens to me? We were done. You could’ve let them kill me.” I flinch at the memory. I thought I was going to get raped and die a violent death within a matter of minutes.
“I don’t know, Daisy. I can’t explain it. As soon as I figured out what was happening, I couldn’t not go there and do everything in my power to save you.
“In fact, I can’t explain everything I’ve done when it c
omes to you. You turn everything upside down. You make me care when I usually don’t. You make me burn inside when I’m usually cold and numb. And I can’t explain any of it.”
I stare at Caine’s big, warm hand as it starts to grip mine. He rubs my hand with his thumb.
“Maybe love doesn’t need to be explained,” he says.
I pull my hand away. I expect him to hold on as he normally would, but this time he lets go without a fight.
“I know you’re engaged.”
He exhales loudly. “I am.” He’s not even trying to deny it, or cover it up, and it makes me angrier, even though I don’t want him to lie either.
“Shouldn’t you be saying those things to her?” I glare at Caine, expecting him to look away, but I’m met with an insistent, non-confrontational gaze.
“I can’t tell her those things because that’s not how I feel about her.”
“You’ve never had any problems saying things that aren’t true before.”
He goes quiet. I wonder if he thinks I’m not aware of the way he manipulates me. I didn’t realize it as it was happening, but I’ve had some time to think. I know now that he knows exactly what to say, how to act, what to do, to make me give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. I haven’t been counting how many times he’s said that since he walked into this hospital room.
“Tell it to your fiancée,” I hiss.
I’ve seen so many of my mom’s relationships fall apart when her boyfriends cheat on her, or vice versa. I’m following my mom’s footsteps so precisely, anyone passing by the path we’re walking would only see one set of footprints. I can’t believe I’m making the exact same mistakes I grew up vowing to avoid.
Get completely broke? Check.
Depend on a man to give me money? Check.
Use sex as a tool? Check.
Steal a man from his rightful partner? Check.
For bonus points, I even have an actual contract to exchange sex for money with this man, and I almost got killed, too.
