Hate Fuck Part Three (10 page)

She blinks up at me from beneath the black steel. “Because you haven’t killed him yet? Isn’t that what you wanted? A chance to play barbarian hero? We would have ignored a bit more bloodshed, you know. You had a chance and you blew it. Don’t get pissy with me.”

Jesus Fucking Christ. At least Wilson’s hunch wasn’t wrong. I’m glad Morgan Reid’s phone wasn’t the only one I bugged. “My best friend thinks that PRISM is the good guys. But we know differently, don’t we?”

Nothing. The ice queen just blinks at me, and I want to blow her brains out. The fact that those are Hailey’s eyes is the only thing that saves her, and that’s probably a mistake on my part.

Since she’s not talking—although she’s already shown me more of her hand than I expected—I move on to Plan Two. Jerking her by the arm, I shove her ahead of me down the hall and instruct her to walk to the library. I make her sit on the couch in the corner where she can see the portraits of both her husband and her father. Her two lovers, although I’m not sure she’s ever loved either of them.

I sit across from her, my back to those paintings. I don’t want to see either of their faces. I don’t want to see hers, either, but this won’t take long. I pull out my phone and start recording a video.

“When did you start sexually abusing your children?”

“I’ve never,” she spits at me, all pretense gone now.

I ignore her. “Was it about the same age as when your father started touching you?”

She glowers at me.

“Maybe Daddy didn’t corrupt you, but the other way round?” I shake my head. “I don’t really care. All that matters is that you’re still screwing him—”

“Turn that off.” The fury in her voice is a thing of beauty. I love it when people get pissed off. They stop thinking.

I click off the video and put my phone away. “Tell me how I’ve got it wrong.”

She pulls herself up tall through the spine, her head perched just so on top of a neck so tight it looks like it might just snap itself.

If only I were so lucky.

“What do you have?”

I snort. “Everything.”

“You’re lying.”

“A suite at the St. Regis. We have photos of the last three visits.”

She blanches.

I lean back against the couch and stretch my arms wide, lazily tapping my gun against the overstuffed cushion. “When he’s huffing away on top of you, do you ever wish you’d gone in a different direction with your life?”

Her nostrils flare, and an angry flush is growing up her neck. “He’s not really my father.”

The power imbalance there is a million types of fucked up, and why she did it…well, I don’t need to know that. I just need some fucking insurance to keep Hailey safe. “I hardly think that will matter to the tabloids.”

“And what do you want?” She picks at imaginary lint on her arm and stares just over my shoulder.

“Have you ever touched your son?”

“No.”

“Your daughters?” The thought fills me with rage, and if the answer is yes, I will kill her. “Did you groom them in any way?”

A tremble gives her away, and I raise my weapon, but she yelps and starts talking. “No. Not…intentionally. It’s possible that Taylor may have picked up on something, a vibe or a moment…but you have to understand, I was never abused. Morgan and I don’t have a…loving relationship. And the man who raised me knew what it was like to be married to someone for reasons other than love.”

“Your mother had affairs.”

“Many. I was the product of one. My father was unable to have children.”

“So he raised you as his own.” I sneer. “And then turned you into his mistress.”

“No. It’s not like that. We have an equal relationship. It’s unconventional but we…support each other. Make business decisions and—”

“You use Morgan.”

“For good. I know you don’t believe me, but PRISM…there are people in the organization who can predict things happening ten, twenty steps down a path. Chaos theorists.”

“At what cost?”

“I never—”

I stand, forgetting that I wanted her to keep talking and storm over to her, leaning over the couch. She shrinks back, terrified of me. Good. “Your daughter was kidnapped by a man that PRISM actively kept out of jail. They’re probably interfering in a federal investigation as we speak. That needs to stop, do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t give a damn about some mathematician’s idea of what might happen. I’m telling you what
will
happen if you don’t make sure that Hailey is nobody’s concern. Not just now, but forever. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

I pull out my phone and tab to the browser window I’ve got waiting. It takes a minute for the video to buffer, then the black and white feed from the cameras in the corner of the room flicker to life. She looks at herself, looking at herself on my phone, and sucks in a horrified breath.

“Right now, that video is private. But if something were to happen to Hailey, if she is threatened in any way, shape, or form…that video and much, much more will instantly be released. Be afraid, Amelia. I’m your worst enemy. You can tell your friends that The Horus Group is no longer their puppet.”

In the distance, we hear the front door open and heels click across the marble of the foyer. “Mom?”
 

Amelia jerks her face toward the door. “That’s Alison,” she whispers.

“I’ll take her with me to Hailey’s,” I say, standing. I don’t care that I’ve broken this woman, that I’ve pushed her to detail depravity and hint at crimes she thought she’d buried deep. All I care about is forever severing the ties that bind the woman I love.

“She’s not in danger here,” Amelia pleads, grabbing at my arm.

I shake her off, needing to be away from this woman and everything she represents. “Of course she is. It’s a miracle they all turned out relatively unscathed.”

The library door swings open, and Alison steps inside a second after I re-holster my gun. “Oh! Hi, Cole.”

“Hey. I came to pick you up for the sleepover at Hailey’s,” I say smoothly.

“Uhm…” she frowns, looking between me and her mother. “Well, I have a car, so if I was staying at Hailey’s, I could just drive myself over there, but I didn’t know we were doing that.”

“Might be a surprise. Come on.”
 

I don’t look back, and Alison doesn’t ask any more questions.

—twelve—
 

Hailey

I haven’t had Cole in my bed for two long days. He hasn’t been far—on the couch—but he’s moved my sister into my apartment and shaken off my suggestion that we leave her there and go back to his place.

The man must have hit his head, because I’m climbing the walls wanting to have sex and he’s organizing pajama parties.

On the second night, after Alison falls asleep, I sneak out of my room and curl up next to him on the couch.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks absently, kissing my temple before going back to scanning news stories on his tablet.

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” He frowns at me, then raises both brows as my meaning dawns on him. “Oh.” He grins. “Yeah, I miss you, too.”

“Not enough to go back to your place.”

“It’s complicated.”

I don’t ask for details. “How long is it going to be complicated for?”

“Not much longer. I just need to assemble a second security team, and since this isn’t something that we ordinarily do, it’s going to take some time to hire the right guys.”

“That reminds me…” I fill him in on the flirtation between Alison and Scott, and he wrinkles his nose. “So maybe not…”

“In my experience, there’s not much point trying to keep apart people who want to get naked together, but sure. He can stay on your guard.”

I wrap my arm around his shoulders and read the news over his shoulder for a minute before asking the question I’ve been wanting to put out there for days now. “How much is all of this costing?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Can’t help it. I mean, I have a trust fund, but I’d prefer not to touch it.”

He laughs. It’s not a good laugh. “Yeah, I don’t want you to touch it, either.”

“But professional bodyguards can’t be cheap. Is it even still necessary?”

He clicks the power button and slides the slim tablet away. His fingers graze the side of my face as he gives me a painfully serious look. “I don’t want you to know how necessary it is, but yes.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we went to a hotel or something? Instead of stacking in here like sardines?”

“Not secure enough.” He slides his hand into my hair, holding my head as he leans in to kiss me.

“I
miss
you,” I repeat, whispering between licks.

“Soon. I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

“Is it alone time?”

He laughs and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Something like that.”

— —
 

When Alison gleefully skips off to class with Scott in tow the next day, Cole takes me across town to Capitol Hill—the neighborhood. He drives in his usual slightly-too-fast, totally-got-this way, and refuses to answer any questions about where we’re going.
 

He parks on a residential street lined with townhouses on one side and a renovated school-turned-lofts on the other.

He ignores my curious look and guides me inside the loft building. He knows the door code. Why am I not surprised?

Inside, we find Wilson in one of the top floor lofts. They have a wordless man conversation that’s just shrugs and grimaces, and ends with a fist bump before Wilson leaves.

Oooh-kay.

It’s a really nice loft, polished redwood floors and muted walls, thick white trim around crazy-tall windows and black steel fixtures. I poke around a bit. The main room has an open-concept kitchen and living room. At one end, the room opens onto a deck with a view of Capitol Hill.
Wow
. There are three bedrooms, two on one side of the living room, the other down a short hallway. That one is
sweet
, with two walk-in closets and a bathroom just as nice as Cole’s, with the big-ass glass shower, but it has a tub as well.

Definitely an improvement over his old place, if he’s thinking of moving. But given the neighborhood, I’m guessing he’s just going to use this as a safe house for my sister.

Lucky brat.

“So what do you think?”

I glance back at Cole over my shoulder and smile. “Depends what it’s for.”

He gives me a weird look. “Well, I’ve put a deposit down on it.”

My smile gets bigger and I turn to face him. “Yeah? I like the tub. But I have to help you decorate, because that cold stuff from your place really will ruin the warmth—”

Laughing, he shakes his head and steps closer. He shoves his hands in his pockets, hulking up his shoulders. He looks big and rough and entirely uncomfortable, now that I’m really looking at him.

“Wait, do you…If this isn’t your type of place, then why are you moving?”

“It’s my type of place, don’t worry about that. But there’s a potential problem.”

“Oh no!” I give one last longing gaze at the bathtub and walk toward him, sliding my hand into his as I tug him back to the living room space. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m worried the condo board might not accept my application. They’re quite particular about who they let move in. I doubt Parker is a name they recognize.”

“Surely they know The Horus Group.”

“Not always a selling point.” He winks at me and spins me around, taking me fully in his arms. “Maybe I should become a senator or something.”

I make a face. “You need a better plan.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He looks down at me, his smile slipping into a more serious expression. “I don’t have a lot going for me, really. A decent job, although that’s in flux. A good pile of savings, but I just dipped into that for an investment.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” I press my hand to his cheek. “Okay, practical question. Can you afford it?”

“Yes.”

“I gotta say, it’s really nice. But…” I stop myself from saying it’s too expensive. I actually don’t know what Cole can afford. Maybe I should have taken Wilson up on his offer to share those details a few weeks earlier.

“Your place is too small for both of us, and you don’t like my place.”

He’s not wrong, but I figured that eventually we’d move into a place together. Maybe I was silly to think that far ahead. “Well, I don’t really care where you keep your stuff. I never should have said anything about your place, I’m sorry. It’s nice. Maybe you just need a warm painting or two.”

“It’s a bit late for that, I’ve already sold it.”

“Cole!” I gape at him. “When did that happen?”

“Yesterday some time. I mean, I still have it for two more months, but it’s a done deal.”

“Shoot. Well, okay, what I can I do to help you get this place?”

He takes both my hands in one of his and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small white envelope. “Can I get your opinion on this investment I just made?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. One time he sees me following stocks and now I’ve gotta make a snap decision about—

Oh. Three gorgeous diamonds, none of them small, one bigger than the others, spill into my turned up palm, and now Cole is down on one knee.

Sugar. All the blood in my body rushes to my head.

I can’t breathe. I’m definitely going to cry. And he hasn’t even started talking yet.

“Hailey Dashford Reid, since the first moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve known you were mine. I fought it for a long time, because I’m truly not good enough for you. You deserve white picket fences and chubby children with handfuls of wildflowers. A nice man with a good job and a briefcase.”

I’m shaking my head and laughing and crying, because he’s so damn earnest about this and I just want to throw myself at him and scream yes. I bite my tongue.

“One day, maybe soon, we’ll move to the suburbs and get a fence. Maybe before that we can have some of those chubby children, if you promise they have your hair and your smile.”

“I like your smile just fine,” I whisper, then shush again because I think he’s got more.

“But I’m never going to carry a briefcase. I wouldn’t even know where to find one. I’m going to try to be a better man for you, beautiful, but I’m always going to piss you off. Some of the time, I’m going to do it on purpose just so you spit fire at me, because I love that. I love you.”