Chapter 2
Chapter Two
ANNIKA
I sit at the table near the front window and watch him walk around the coffeeshop like he owns the place. At one point, he stops at a person who is clearly working on their laptop and reaches for the person’s bag, flips open the front flap and sticks his hand inside.
I used to get secondhand embarrassment over this. Now I just watch almost as though I’m studying him .
The laptop person protests. Not a care in the world of what a blatant asshole he is.
Now he walks toward the counter and he starts snapping his fingers at some young barista. Once he has her attention, he signs with his left hand, requesting a pen. The young barista is instantly flustered and quickly hands him a pen.
He grabs a napkin, takes down a few notes, then finishes up his conversation, which has been loud enough for everyone to hear. I’m not sure anyone really knows who he is. If they did and they realized just how much he was worth, they’d all scramble to give him pens, paper and anything else.
People with money and power had that attraction vibe, didn’t they?
He walks back toward me, to the table, and sits across from me. He reaches across the table and pats my right hand.
“Sorry about that, dear.”
“No worries, Dad. You’re a busy guy.”
Yes, he’s my father. It’s not some weird kinky shit where I’m calling a guy ‘Dad’ …
Like I mentioned, probably nobody here knows the name Holom Alistair, but I’m sure the things he does on a daily basis touches their lives.
Call me a rich girl. Call me a brat. Call me spoiled. Do the assumption thing. It doesn’t bother me.
In reality, I’m here meeting with my father (which took me three weeks and three phone calls to his new secretary—who he is obviously fucking—to find time for me) to make arrangements for me to graciously exit from Sinners Academy , as it’s so famously called.
Now let me be clear, I have not spent any time at all on the northern side of that campus. The side where all the fucked up, murderous rich people are sent to hide and wait for their chance to control parts of society. I attend SA because I was told that’s where I was going to attend. And I’ve done as I was told. For long enough.
“My Annika,” Dad says.
“Drop the my part,” I say. “It’s a whole new world and generation out there. People will get the wrong impression of us.”
“Really?”
“How’s your secretary doing? Adjusting to the new job? How old is she? Younger than me, right?”
Dad pulls his hand from mine and sits up very straight.
That’s what I thought.
Dad rubs his hands together as though he’s grossed out. Amazing that he is the one grossed out over the fact that he’s fucking his secretary who is younger than me. He’s the one doing it. I’m the one who has to live with that image in my mind.
Gross.
But, hey, it’s legal. Consenting between them. If things go bad, Dad will write a fat check to keep her mouth shut. Life goes on. It always goes on and on for the rich and powerful, doesn’t it?
“Do I have to guess why we’re meeting?” Dad asks.
“A daughter can’t just want to see her father?” I ask.
“You all but hate me, Annika. I’ve made my peace with it. You blame me for your mother and what she did to us. I’ve taken that blame. That’s my job as a father.”
Should I dab the corners of my eyes with a tissue after that Oscar worthy performance?
“I want out of the Academy, ” I say, making sure that word means nothing to me.
Dad’s jaw tightens.
“I’ve played my role,” I say to him. “Okay? I was your puppet for as long as you needed. I’m ready for something else.”
“Well, aren’t you full of attitude.”
“I’ve been wanting this for a long time. Dad .”
Dad smiles. “You’re not a little girl anymore, Annika. The pouty lip princess routine doesn’t work on me. You should know that by now. Now to get a little more serious.” He looks around and he leans toward me. “Did something happen?”
“With?”
“Annika, I’m not playing games.”
His demeanor has changed. His eyes narrowed. Boardroom evilness spreading across his face as though he’s ready to eat me alive like some struggling company his company wants to buy and use as a personal ATM machine to beat up for cash.
I shake my head.
“I asked you a question, Annika.”
I shiver. I hate when Dad acts like this. It’s really terrifying.
“Nothing happened,” I say. “I don’t know what you think would have happened. But nothing happened. You know what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“You want to go find yourself, galivanting across Europe.”
“Life is short, right?”
“Oh, please, Annika. Don’t try that new age bullshit on me. Life is short. You want out? I don’t care anymore.”
“Just like that?”
Dad stands up, adjusts his tie, and looks around.
“Just like that,” he says as he’s already turning and walking toward the door to exit.
I’m not sure I’m able to process any excitement because I’ve yet to get down to the nitty-gritty task of talking numbers. That’s right. Daddy’s Little Girl needs some cash to make this work for me.
Mid thought, a person appears where Dad had been sitting. She sits down and puts her feet up on the table, chewing on a coffee stirrer.
“Were you listening the entire time?” I ask Molly.
“That’s what you wanted from me,” she says. “I have to admit, the older Holom gets, the hotter he gets.”
“Ew.”
“I’ve had a crush on your father since we met.”
“I know. Way back in eighth grade.”
“He was the first time I realized things were changing about my body and all that, you know?”
“Stop,” I tell Molly. “At this point, why even tell me? Just go for it. Everyone is a consenting adult.”
“Yeah? You want me to be your new stepmother?”
I laugh. Loud. “You think my father would offer any kind of commitment?”
Molly snorts. “I’m just joking, Annika. Chill. Plus, I’m probably too old for him by now anyway. He likes them under twenty-one, right?”
I cringe.
“But, hey, seems like he’s going to listen this time,” Molly says.
“So you heard everything? That’s good. You’re my witness. In case he pulls any kind of stunt.”
“What’s the appeal, Annika? Just to travel the world and fuck random guys?”
“Maybe,” I confess. “What I know for sure is that I do not want to be under the control of anyone anymore.”
“Other than taking your father’s money to bolt out of the country?”
“And you don’t do the same?”
“Don’t drag me into your issues. I hate my father and he hates me. He gives me money so I stay away from him.”
“That’s toxic.”
“Gives me my edge. And it’s probably why I think your dad is so hot. Like my daddy issues make me want to fuck your daddy .”
I hold out one hand and shake my head. “Molly, for real, I’m going to vomit.”
“I would make a great stepmother to you,” Molly said.
“I’m older than you!”
“That’s okay! It’s a whole new world now. None of that matters. I would be a great gift giver for your birthday and holidays. I mean, I already am now, but imagine it in a stepmom setting.”
I stand up. “You’re a bitch. I’m grossed out. I’m leaving.”
“Don’t give me attitude, young lady . I will ground you! I will turn this car around and go right back home!”
“You’re impossible,” I growl. “And a psycho.”
“Men love psycho women.”
“Stay away from my father, Molly.”
“Imagine the three of us taking a family picture in front of a giant Christmas tree at some private house in Colorado,” Molly says.
I walk out of the cafe, irritated yet smiling. Molly is psycho. A good friend, but totally insane.
And, honestly, it would not shock me if she really meant everything she said about fucking my father and then becoming my stepmother.
* * *
I stare at the financial statements for a made up company, finding all their dirty little secrets that I’ll write for a report that will keep my perfect GPA in good standing. All of which I plan on using to get the hell out of SA and find myself elsewhere in the world.
For the last week, I’ve pleasured myself each night, fantasizing about being in a different country with a different man fucking me senseless. Italy. France. Poland. Germany. Egypt…
That one was my favorite for some reason. All made up, of course, but in some ways maybe some kind of adventurous, sexual blueprint of me traveling the world and finding myself.
I will confess that when I had my fantasy about my Egyptian lover, I caught myself getting a little rough with myself.
Pinching my clit until it hurt.
Pinching my right nipple until it hurt, but then not stopping. Twisting and pulling and making myself cry out in pain, orgasming as I did so.
Even right now, my right nipple hurts a little, slightly bruised. When those little pulses of pain hit me from my nipple rubbing inside my bra it makes my inner thighs tingle, thinking about my fantasy.
I take a deep breath, not wanting to get turned on too soon here. I have to finish this project, then I can choose another foreign lover to fuck in my mind.
Where will Annika travel tonight?
South Africa?
Japan?
South America?
My phone buzzes against my desk and I let out a yelp. I see my DAD is the culprit who has broken up my disgusting, dirty thoughts.
Another notification comes through. A very large sum of money has been deposited into my personal bank account. The text from Dad… wishing me safe travels.
I stand up and let out a scream. A there’s-a-stalker-in-my-bedroom-with-a-knife kind of scream. I clutch my phone and spin around.
I hurry to call Molly and tell her the news that I’m going to be bolting from SA and I will be traveling the world.
Molly looks for any and all reasons to go out and get drunk. Normally that’s not my thing, but…
This definitely calls for a celebration.
Of course, not tonight. Tonight I have to finish my financial statement analysis paper…
… and let my vibrator do its wonderful job while I mentally travel the world looking for someone to fuck me and growl in my ear in a different language.