Slick as Ides (28 page)

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s shitting lightning bolts, I’m leaving.” I pull the bag tighter into my body.

“He knows . . .”

“Knows what?” I groan and roll my eyes, stretching my neck.

“He knows you’ve been following her again.”

“
And
?” I motion with my hand for him to hurry up and tell me whatever it is he has to say.

“And, he already told you to keep away from her. What do you think you’re doing, following her all the time again? I mean, shit, she’s just buying groceries. What’s so great about watching her shop? You want her to get killed over this?”

“Fuck you, and your fucking stupid big mouth. Why’d you tell him last time anyway? Jealous? I thought you said you were going to prove you were loyal to me. I have yet to see any proof of that.”

“No, man. You know I don’t care about your love life, and I’ve been working my ass off for you, trying to figure out what she’s up to, but it’s damn near impossible.” He shoves his book aside he had propped open on his lap. Looks like some type of manual. “I made sure that remote was working with the chip, right? Why would I do that if I was still on your dad’s side?”

“Yeah, you did, but—”

“But what? I don’t want you to get hurt over this girl. You’ve been my friend for so long, you’re like a brother to me.” His eyes go wide.

“Then why are you telling me to stay right now? I can protect her.” I drop my bag off my shoulder and into my hand.

“Because I don’t have a death wish. Your dad owns me. I owe him, pure and simple. He saved my life, and now I have to repay him. I’d like to do that by saving his son as well. Stay. This won’t end well if you go.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say through my clenched teeth. “You don’t owe him anymore, and he pays you anyway, so that clearly signifies he thinks you’ve repaid your debt. I’m leaving, and there’s shit you can do about it.”

“Look—I was half-dead when your dad took me in. I was such a junkie, stealing petty shit to pay for my habit—and nobody else would give me a job when I got out of prison. Your dad was right there. Gave me a place to stay, food to eat and a job with a purpose. You stepped in and helped me out so I didn’t feel like a worthless shit. Just slow down. I’ll help you. We can figure this out. Your dad has to think everything’s okay.”

“Pssst! Fucking
job
—that’s what you call this? You’re his lackey, and nothing more. He’s using your ass just like he does everyone else.” I drop my bag to the floor and take three steps toward him, stalking with my teeth bared. “He. Doesn’t. Give. A. Shit. About. You. Or. Anyone. Else.” I point at him. “You think he even cares about me? I realized after he told me to keep away from Dena, that he was heartless. No one that loves their son would do that. I’m crazy about her—she’s everything to me. I’m done being a thief for him and running his little circuits. He can fuck off and find some other idiot to do his evil bidding, ‘cause I’m done.” I march back over to my bag and pick it back up. “You’re like a brother to me, too, so I hope you can find a way to get away from that twisted evil fuck I used to call Dad.”

Rap, rap, rap, rap.

I freeze.

“It’s him,” Jason says.

No shit. My shoulders drop and my head falls forward.

And then an icy rake spears its way down my spine. Oh God, no!

Dena might come here.

I pressed that goddamn button, and my father’s here.

“Buy me some time!” I say over my shoulder and race to my room with the remote clutched tightly in my hands.

I squeeze it tight as I try to reverse whatever I did to tell her to come here.

But I don’t know how.

I never thought I’d want to send her away.

“Oh, God, oh Jesus, fuck!” I mutter, hitting buttons and hoping I’m doing something right.

“Nick . . .” Jason calls through my door.

“A minute, please!” I shout.

Rap, rap, rap.

“Fucking give me a minute, I said!” I yell louder.

“Son, you better open this goddamn door right now or she’s gonna get a bullet,” Dad says. “I’m tired of these little games you’re playing. I’ve already warned you once. This is the last time I’ll be lenient with you.”

My jaw clenches tight, my eyes slide up in my head and I close my eyes while my head drops back.

I tuck the remote into my pocket and pray to God she won’t arrive when he’s here.

My feet glide over to the door on their own, because I’ll be damned if I told them to do that.

My hands follow suit and open the door.

“Whatta ya want?” I snap.

“To see my disobedient son,” he says, standing tall and looking bullet-proof.

“For what?” I lean into the door, keeping it open.

“To tell you this stops now. She’s gone. She’s left, and she’s not coming back, and if you go after her, you’re no longer my son. I’ll have no control over what my men do to you. You’ll be considered an enemy, and they don’t take kindly to anyone against our organization.”

“Jesus, Dad, you act like you’re the mafia ringleader or something.”

He blinks and smiles. “Call it whatever the fuck you wish—just stay here. You’re not to get involved with her and her little problems.”

I curse under my breath and swallow the massive lump in my throat.

“And just to make sure you realize I’m serious—she’s with
him
.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stretches his neck from side to side.

“Westin?” My eyes narrow and my neck slants away from him as I give him a look of disgust.

“No, Westin’s to watch you, since I know he has a personal vendetta against you.”

“Then who’s she with?” I yell, spit flying out of my mouth and spraying the air.

“Riot, that punk who’s in love with her,
that’s
who. He’s been guarding her like he’s her little lost puppy. It’s kind of cute in a ridiculous sort of way.” He chuckles and almost bounces out of the hallway.

The front door shuts, and he’s gone.

I slide down to the ground, and my head pounds like I’ve had a knife jammed into it.

Why would she leave?

Did
he
do this?

What is his problem with us being together?

“He’s gone,” Jason calls out.

“Yeah, thanks,” I say, my tone biting.

Think, Nick . . . Where would she go?

The remote!

Maybe if I leave, she’ll follow like I originally thought.

Before I can dwell on how fucked up my dad is, and how I hope he chokes on his meal tonight and dies, I’m on my bike, my bag stowed away, and for some strange reason, I’m headed to San Diego.

I need to be far away from that man and his sick regime.

The remote vibrates in my pocket, but I can’t stop where I am now to see what it’s doing.

I keep driving, heading out of L.A.

When I finally stop to get some gas and fuel up, I check the remote and there’s some scrambled message I can’t decipher on the small screen.

“What the hell does this mean?” I rub my jaw and squint my eyes, hoping it’ll come to me, and I’ll figure it out.

Nothing makes sense.

Not without her.

I drive for the next hour to get there with one single thought in my head . . .
I’ll find her
.

She’ll be there, waiting for me.

It almost blinds me, making it difficult to drive.

My eyes sting, and my hands ache from gripping the handlebars for this long.

But when I arrive in San Diego, this odd peace settles over me.

She’s here—I can
feel
it.

In my bones, in my blood—I know I’ll have her again.

I pull into the parking lot of the San Diego Marriott Hotel, looking completely grimy and disheveled.

As I walk inside and start trying to check in, the desk clerk looks me over and wrinkles his nose.

“You sure you’re in the right place?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say, my voice tight and raspy from dehydration. “Just give me a room already.”

I pull out a wad of cash and shove it at him.

“A back room okay? The view’s lousy, but it’s the best I can do on last minute notice. We’ve got a few seminars here this weekend,” he says. “There’s a lot going on right now, so we’re pretty booked up.”

“Like what? Mary Kay’s launch of pimple pure foundation?” I snort in aggravation.

“No, nothing like that—smaller companies. But we’re also damn near full to capacity because of Comic Con,” he says.

“Oh, Jesus,” I grunt and look away. “Yeah, it’s fine. Give me the key.”

He hands it to me after several moments of chatting with me, fumbling around behind the desk as he tries to find the right room for me and then almost flinches like he thinks I’m gonna deck him.

I chuckle, swing my bag further back behind me and walk off.

Dena, please be here . . .

I saunter to the elevator, ride it up to the third floor, and shove my way into my door, then drop my bag on the floor.

The second I fall into bed, I’m out.

“Get away from her,” I shout.

Riot is over her limp body, sprawled out on her bed.

Blood drips down his fingers as he keeps cutting into her.

“No! I’ll kill you!” I launch myself at him and knock out of his hand something metal, thin and the length of my index finger.

It lands on her belly, and I shriek in horror when I realize what it is.

A mini cobra, and it slithers inside her body and worms its way into her veins.

She sputters and gags and blood oozes out of her nostrils.

“No! You’ve killed her, you sick fuck!” I slam my boot into his face and take her in my arms. Every part of my body shakes as I try to figure out what the hell to do to save her.

Riot moans, “I was helping her, you idiot. Your dad chipped her. It was a descrambler so he couldn’t find her. I’ve been keeping her safe from him and you!” He spits and his own blood from his busted lip lands on my boot.

I ignore it. “Ides, wake up, sweetheart. Tell me you’re okay. Tell me what to do so I can get this hideous monstrous thing out of you!”

I shake her shoulders, and she grunts, then her eyelashes flutter, but her eyes remain closed.

“Please, God! Help me!”

Her lips part. She exhales, and with a whisper says, “You can’t do anything. Let me go . . .”

I jackknife in bed, drenched in a cold sweat and gasp for air, clutching at my gut.

It felt so real, the adrenaline is still pumping through my frightened veins. Fucking stupid nightmare.

I let my head fall back, breathe deep and let the images drain out of my mind.

A few moment later, realizing I probably won’t be able to get back to sleep even though I’m tired as hell, I grab my new laptop out of my bag with shaking hands and get back to work on my invention.

It’s almost ready. She’ll probably hate it, but it’s the best I can do.

I type with furious speed. My contacts are still unsecured, but I’m hopeful they’ll all come through for me when the time arrives.

With the remote at my side, still displaying some gibberish message on the screen, I relax into my spot.

I can do this. I can make this thing work.

My eyes dart to my phone to check the time.

It’s been two hours since I’ve arrived. I’ve probably got at least a few more hours to go before she arrives here if I’m wrong and she was indeed back in L.A. when I arrived.

I get in two more hours of work before my eyes grow heavy again, and my brain’s exhausted.

When I lay down this time, my mind’s drained.

No nightmares when I drift off. Just black. All black, like her clothes and her name. She renders my mind useless, and I love it.

Chapter 17

Ides

One day earlier…

“We have to go,” I tell myself. I snuck out and talked to Ty a few hours ago while Riot was gone, gathering supplies. Everything’s already set up. So why won’t my hands stop scrubbing the Formica and sink?

“I’m all done,” Riot calls out.

He’s finished detailing the coffee table I’d set my feet on ages ago when we’d had one of our little talks—the one job I’d told him not to do when my feet were parked there. But I couldn’t say no once he offered to clean it again. It was honestly grossing me out so much I could barely look at it or stand within three feet of the dang thing.