Chapter 13
BLADE
“You don’t listen to warnings, huh?” I storm into Harvey’s office without knocking, my words slicing through the air with a sharp edge.
He whips around to face me, his expression twisted with his own rage as he grits his teeth. “This is none of your business. Stay out of it.”
I laugh, the sound bitter, sharp, and meant to cut. His scowl deepens—good. I want him angry, just like I am. He’s lucky he’s not already on the floor bleeding out.
Does he think I can’t playback the audio of every single call he makes to her?
“None of my business? I think Amelia’s well-being, and therefore her mental state is every bit of my business. And that seems to be affected when her own father calls her a whore.”
“Well, she is one! Just like every other woman on this fucking planet. And she—”
I don’t let him finish, because if he did, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from ending his miserable life. Before he even sees it coming, I draw my knife from its holder and slam it down. The blade sinks deep, pinning his hand to the desk and embedding itself into the wood underneath.
His piercing scream—one of my favorite sounds—cuts through the haze of my anger, melting it away until I can breathe easy again.
“You know what? You’re right, she is a whore. My whore.” He’s too busy wincing, eyes squeezed shut in agony to respond. “You’re such an idiot. You played right into my plan.” I shake my head in mock pity, tsking.
“What plan?” he grits out between clenched teeth, eyes snapping open.
I fight to keep the smirk off my face. “Every move I make is calculated, you should know that. I weigh the options, predict the outcomes, and then strategize my next move based on all the information. Something John taught me.”
I wrench the knife from his hand, and he screams again, biting into his fist to muffle the sound.
“You don’t think I didn’t notice your guys following her? You don’t think I didn’t know you’d call her after they caught us on a date? Now she hates you, and guess what? It’s driving her right into my arms. Plan worked. Just earlier, she texted me that she’s all in. Probably because she doesn’t see any other way to get away from you.”
“You manipulative son of a—”
“I’d watch what you say.” I wave the knife in front of his face, taunting him. “I haven’t even put this away yet. There are plenty of other body parts it could piece through.”
He groans in frustration. “I’m telling her everything you just said, and everything that you do with the Serpents. She’ll find out the kind of guy you really are. A sick fucking killer.”
“That’s if she even picks up your call. She was pretty hurt by everything you said. Bringing up her mother? Now that’s a low blow. Even if she does pick up, who’s she going to believe? You, who’s been berating her for years, or me, who comforts her from your verbal abuse. Twice now.”
“I’ll find a way to stop this. They’ll find something to use against you. Trust me, they’re the best of the best.”
“Oh, you mean those guys you had following her? Yeah, they’re dead. I didn’t quite like the audience. And if you hire more, I’ll have no choice but to tell Amelia your little secret.”
He scoffs dismissively, but the slight downturn at the corners of his mouth gives him away. I can spot guilt from a mile away. “What secret?”
I let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “You’ve got so many secrets you don’t even know which one I’m talking about, Harvey?”
“No. Uh, I don’t have any. That’s why I’m asking.”
Right.
“Amelia’s mother. She didn’t die in some random car crash by a drunk driver, did she?”
His face immediately drains of color, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.
“She was cheating on you, planning to leave with her lover. So you set up her death and made it look like a tragic accident, but really, you hired someone to run her off the road. Didn’t you?”
“That’s a bald-faced lie,” he snarls, slamming his injured hand on the desk. In the perfect vulnerable position. “And I won’t sit here and accept slander about my dead ex-wife.”
“Okay, sure. It’s a lie.” I shrug. “But just know that if you keep following Amelia, if you do anything to jeopardize our relationship, if you continue to speak to her how you do, everyone will find out that ‘lie’. With the proof from John to back it up. He keeps records of all conversations, you should know that. Oh and—” I press my finger hard into his stab wound, and he wails in agony. “—if you try to use the Serpents’ medical fund for this, it’ll be denied. Have fun with the medical bills.”
···
The hallways are crowded, but most of the students step aside as I pass. I pull my phone from my pocket and fire off a quick text to Asher.
Me: Meet me in courtyard B and bring your laptop
Asher: You sure are needy these days
I chuckle at his reply, heading for a table in the courtyard shaded by a large umbrella.
Restless, I kick a small rock nearby, already feeling the boredom creeping in. I get bored pretty easily, and that’s when my mind drifts to random, sometimes reckless things I could do.
Just as I’m thinking about using my knife to vandalize the table, Asher shows up and drops down next to me. He’s a few inches shorter than me, curly brown hair. Not a bad looking dude, especially with the way girls fawn over him, but he never pays them any mind.
“What’s up? Why’d you call?” he asks.
“I need you to pull her internet browsing history from the phone details I gave you.”
He raises an eyebrow, laughing as he flips open his laptop. “Well, that’s new.”
I shrug. “I want to make sure I check all her boxes, fulfill all her fantasies. And it’s not just about sex. If she searched for a special type of fabric for a dress, I want to buy it for her.” Asher pauses, giving me a strange look, but I continue, “I want to know every thought that’s fluttered through her mind, every dream I can make come true for her. Anything. Everything. Well, sex included too.”
“Blade...” He hesitates. “Have you, uh, by any chance talked to your psychiatrist about her?”
“No, I stopped seeing my psychiatrist.”
“I’m just worried that—”
“Whatever you’re implying, drop it.”
“Okay, okay.” He throws his left hand up in surrender. “It’s just… this isn’t like you. I mean, with random little things, sure. But not women. You’re scaring me with how much you’re—”
“Didn’t I just say to drop it?”
“Fine. I was just saying.”
“That’s the problem. Less saying, more doing.”
Asher sighs, shaking his head. “You know, you could’ve learned how to do all this hacking stuff you contract me for yourself.”
That was the original plan, before John barged into my life and shattered any semblance of normalcy I had. Not that training to become a hacker for a multi-billion dollar crime syndicate would’ve been considered your everyday job either. But it would’ve been a hell of a lot more normal than gutting bodies for a living.
“Yeah well, I only had a little time for hacking training, and we were still going over the basics. You’re one of the best hackers in the group. Plus, don’t I pay you well?”
He nods. “No argument there. So, this one’s a keeper, huh?”
“More than a keeper. We’re going to be together even in the afterlife.” I smile, daydreaming about us transcending different realities, always finding our way back to each other.
He pauses. “Remember when I said that thing about you scaring me—”
“Drop it.”
He does a zipping motion across his lips and continues typing. “So, when are you going to tell her all about… you know.”
I sigh. “I can’t, not yet. She nearly had a panic attack when she saw me push Rhys, imagine how she’d react if she found out the real stuff that goes on.”
“Well, you can’t hide it forever. What, you’re going to be forty-two, kids running around in a big house, and still not telling them how you make your money?”
“I’m not hiding it from her forever. I’ll tell her when the time is right, I just have to ease her into it. When she almost had a panic attack in front of me, it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I don’t want to see her like that again.”
“Aw, my little buddy is in love.”
“Shut up.” I toss a straw wrapper at him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Relationship-wise. I know you’re into all that kinky BDSM shit.” I chuckle. “But you haven’t had anyone in, what, a year? Or more.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve just been busy between school and this assignment John has me doing. I don’t have time to meet anyone new at the moment. It’s like an everyday job at this point. John’s nuts. Something about his ex-wife.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Remember that girl in the dark green dress at the Labor Day party? The one who couldn’t hold her liquor and you had to cut her off?”
“Oh, Tulip? Yeah, she’s smoking hot.” His face lights up.
“Tulip?”
“She’s got red hair and wears green. Like a tulip. You know—her hair is the flower, her dress is the stem.”
“What the fuck, Asher.” I chuckle. “Anyway, you would be perfect for her. I have to warn you though, she is a brat.”
“Even better. What’s her name?” He flashes a smug smile.
“Frankie. She’s getting in good with Amelia. Hey, why don’t you—”
“Got it!” he exclaims, cutting me off. “I’ll send the information to your email. The other one, not your personal one.”
We fist-bump, and after I give him a bit more background on Frankie—she needs to come with a warning label—I leave to go look over what he sent.
I decide to wait until I’m back in my room at the mansion to read through the email. I want to give this my full attention. Usually, I’m an expert at controlling my enthusiasm, but right now, my hands are jittery as I open my MacBook.
Scrolling through, I find things like:
Tiffany’s Tennis Bracelet
How to get rid of an old scar
How to get a fake ID
My mind short-circuits when I stumble upon something I never would have expected her to look up—not in this lifetime or the next.
Knife play.
Jesus Christ, this girl is perfect for me.
I know my way around a knife.
She looked it up almost immediately after our dinner. Researching it. I bite my bottom lip when I see listings for a couple of short stories featuring the kink on a site called Literotica. So she’s interested in it. Fuck .
Every time I discover something new about her, I dive deeper into my obsession, and I don’t think I’m anywhere near hitting the bottom.
Before closing my laptop, I order the tennis bracelet to be delivered to her dorm. I also order the thousand-dollar scar elixir that helped me get rid of my scars from John, recommended by a world-class dermatologist. If she’s looking into it, that means she’s self-conscious about it, and the elixir really works. I decide against calling my old buddy who makes fake IDs. That would mean she’d be able to get into any bar without me.
Last, but certainly not least, I wash and sanitize my knife that still had her filthy father’s blood on it.
Our next meeting is going to be fun.
I just wish I could see her tonight but unfortunately, I have a mission to go on.