Chapter Thirty-Three #2
But as soon as her gaze was forward again, I couldn't help but look her way, finding her pulling off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
Bad news?
Someone she just didn’t want to talk to?
Curiosity had me rising from my seat, making my way over toward the coffee station even though I still had a mostly-full mug from Fiona's office. But the coffee station was a few feet from Katie's desk. And if I was going to be a fucking creep, I figured I could go whole hog with it.
"I can't talk right now," she insisted. "No. You know I'm at work."
Was that...a boyfriend?
It didn't sound like she was talking to her mom in that tone. And she said she didn't really have friends that night while we played board games.
Even if she was shy, I didn't believe she never dated, never had men in her life.
Was this one of them?
This person calling to nag her at work?
It certainly seemed like something a romantic entanglement would do.
An ex, maybe?
"You can't. Stop,” she demanded, voice getting more strained, more desperate. “Just stop. Please," she demanded.
My stomach fucking bottomed out at that.
Please.
I'd heard that word so many times, it was burned into my brain.
Please. Please. Please.
It was said in a similar, but different way. Both ways were desperate. This one was a little sad. The one I'd heard time and time and time again, it was needy.
But I heard it.
I knew it.
"You want to come, don't you?" I'd asked.
“Yes, please. Please," she'd whimpered.
Fuck.
Jesus Christ.
There was no way.
No fucking way.
Except, maybe, there was.
Katherine.
Katie.
She barely said anything. I always figured because she simply didn't know what to say, liked listening more. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe she was afraid I would recognize her voice. Because she worked just ten feet away from me. Every goddamn day. For years.
Shit.
Shit.
"I have to go. I have to go,” she added to the caller, voice firmer. She slammed her phone down on her desk, letting out a sighing breath.
I wasn’t one for confrontation. Sibling rivalry aside, there just rarely ever seemed to be a need for it. It had always worked better for me to hash shit out calmly, rationally.
There was nothing calm or rational about me right then, though.
I found myself storming over to her desk, leaning forward.
My voice, when it came out, was low, but seething.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snapped, making her head jerk back like I'd struck her, her brows drawing together.
"I, ah, what?" she asked, shaking her head. "I mean, I know, I shouldn't take personal calls at work. He isn't supposed to call the work line anyway. I rushed him off the phone. Fee will understand."
"You mean you don't want to keep him—whoever he is—on the phone for an hour, two hours, talking about the weather, moaning out your orgasm while you finger-fuck yourself, like you did with me?" I asked, watching as her face fell. "You lied to me."
"I... I didn’t... I just..."
"Rush," Fiona called, voice holding a warning. I figured because I was making a scene, but when I glanced over, everyone was busy with work, and she was the only one approaching, gaze moving between the two of us.
"This doesn’t concern you, Fee," I shot back.
"It does, actually," she said, shrugging, casting a worried glance at Katie.
"It does—“ I started again before something seemed to click, a certain chain of events, meddling on the part of someone who never played a random matchmaker. Except maybe it wasn’t so random.
Maybe she knew. And instead of putting a stop to it, she fucked with us.
Fucked with me. Since I was the only one in the dark. "Oh," I said, scoffing.
"Rush, wait, hey," Fee started, sensing me putting all the pieces together.
"Don't," I said, shaking my head, feeling very much a fool, very much played. "Fuck this," I said, turning, slamming my hand into the door, and bursting out onto the street.
I don't know if either of them followed. My blood was whizzing through my ears, making hearing anything else all but impossible as I made my way toward my car, hopping in, peeling off.
I wasn't, by nature, a reckless driver. I was a good one, a precision driver who could make a getaway like very few in the business. But, as a whole, I hung that up when we went legit years back.
There was nothing careful or civilian about the way I peeled through Navesink Bank, seeking an open road, some room to think, to let my thoughts spread far and wide.
Maybe then, I could make some sense of them.
But after three hours on the road, I was no closer to understanding what was going on, why it was going on, than I had been when I left.
Most of the anger burned off, though, there was a strange mix of betrayal and relief in me.
Neither made sense.
But that didn’t change shit.
Unsure where else to turn, I made my way toward King's office, knowing he was always a voice of reason for us when we couldn’t—or wouldn’t—be rational about a situation without his input.
When I walked in, I found him sitting off the front of the reception desk, looking very much like the sounding board I needed right then.
He gave me a nod. "I was warned I might be seeing you. Figured it would be sooner than this. You’re lucky I am always working late. What's going on? Fee said she fucked up. And since we all know Fee doesn’t like admitting she fucked up, it must be big."
King was, for all intents and purposes, a father figure to all of us.
Not having our father, then losing our mother young, he was who we had.
To provide for us. In financial ways, but also in emotional ones.
Older, wiser, he was forever putting out our fires, cooling our rage, calming our anxieties.
He had enough on his plate.
But that didn’t stop me from piling on.
"Fee has known that my regular caller is a coworker at the office for a while. And instead of putting an end to it, she tricked us both into thinking we were going on a work retreat, and then trapped us there together."
"Really? Fee?" King asked, face scrunching up. "That’s not like her."
"I know," I agreed. "And yet, here we are."
"Did something happen with you? And the office girl?"
"That's not the point."
To that, he let out a laugh. "Oh, Rush. Sometimes it is,” he said, raking a hand down his face.
"People shouldn't fuck with your life."
"Man, we are linked with the Mallick family. Someone is always going to be fucking with our lives. But we love them. And we know that, underneath all the shit, they have our best intentions at heart. You’re not mad that she got involved. You're pissed because you feel stupid."
"They fucked me over."
“Did they?" he reasoned. "I mean, Fee was wrong. She knows it. She will apologize for it. You know that. But what did the girl do? Did she plot with Fiona to trap you at the cabin to have her way with you?" he asked, rolling his eyes.
"No. It's not like that. She's... she's shy and quiet and no, she wouldn't do that."
"So, what is she guilty of, really?"
"She knew it was me. And I didn’t know it was her. That’s fucked up."
"Or, like you said, she was shy and quiet. And she was lonely. And she needed to reach out. And you were a safe, familiar person. But she was embarrassed for someone she knew in person to know how lonely and desperate she was."
"That's..."
“The more fair way of thinking about it?
" Kingston supplied. "Yeah, I know. You were always one to rush to conclusions.
To rush into everything. Mom named you well.
It's fine when you’re young and stupid and you can use young and stupid as an excuse.
But you're not a kid anymore, Rush. You gotta think shit out before you react to it. "
See?
Total dad-advice with him.
It was rarely what I wanted to hear.
But it was always what I needed to.