30. Zee
“Hello. Susanne McAllister speaking.”
“Isn’t that Susanne Korhonen?”
When Clyde’s voice registers, I shudder with distaste.
I thought it’d be a work call. Instead, it’s him.
“It wasn’t specified in the contract that I change my last name.” There, that sounded calm enough.
His low chuckle rattles in my ear, prompting me to shift the call onto speaker. It’s too creepy hearing it up close and personal.
“I see that you’re the type of woman that needs to be hemmed in.” Um, nope. “You McAllisters always were rowdy.”
“Is there a reason for this call, Clyde?”
“Can’t a father-in-law check up on the newest addition to his family?”
If he were any other man, then sure.
“What would you like to know?” I inquire, tone polite. Distant. Better to dissociate than to panic.
“I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider my proposition.”
It takes me too long to figure out what that proposition was. Then, I remember Colt saying he’d brought this up with him and I realize his audaciousness knows no bounds.
“I’m not interested.”
“I told you that I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Not only would I make a terrible spy, I have no desire to. I don’t know why you’re approaching me?—”
“It’s a father’s right to know what’s going on with his children.”
“I agree—if they’re under the age of sixteen. But all your boys are old enough to be fathers themselves,” I say dryly. “The argument isn’t as strong when you take that into consideration.”
“I think you’re not taking my suggestion seriously.”
“I think that you aren’t listening. To me. Or to Colt.”
“No, Susanne. You’re not listening. I’ve tried to ask you nicely. Politely. Keep this friendly. But you’ve gone behind my back and discussed this with my son. This is no longer a suggestion?—”
“You think you can make me spy on them?” I laugh. “You and my grandmother forced me into marrying a man I barely know. Any power over me you two had faded the day I said ‘I do.’ I’m done dancing like a puppet on a string.”
“You forget how badly the town dislikes you, Susanne.” The truth of that slips through me like poison. “A few words spoken to the right ears and you might find?—”
“You can say whatever you want to them. You can do whatever you want,” I snarl. “You can’t and won’t hold anything against me to force me into complying.
“You picked the wrong bride if that’s what you wanted. I might have seen the wisdom in Colt and me getting hitched, but if you think I’ll let you dictate my every move, then you’re the fool.”
“You’ll regret making an enemy out of me.”
“You always were my enemy,” is my flat retort. “You’re the one who believed otherwise.”
And with that, I end the call.
That’s also when I realize my heart is racing, sweat’s beading at my temples, and my stomach’s churning as if I ate the hottest ghost pepper in the universe a few minutes ago.
When my monitor sounds an alert, distracting me from calling Colt, I snag a juice box and chug that. Immediately, I feel better, but what surprises me is Colt rings me first.
“Are you eating something?”
I don’t want to feel this warm and cozy inside at his care but I do.
I’m such a sucker.
“I had some juice.”
Callan: You checked your monitor?
I roll my eyes.
Tee: Don’t make me fly up there and force-feed you.
I grin then copy and paste the same message to both of them:
Me: On the case. :)
“Good. Everything okay?”
I swallow. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re working. You don’t tend to have lows during work hours. After is another matter entirely.”
He’s right.
Ugh, I shouldn’t love that he knows that.
“Your father’s been on the phone.”
Silence greets me. Then… “What did he want?”
That rumble.
Oh, boy.
“The same as before. But he upped the stakes. Threatened me?—”
“He did what?”
His anger is reassuringly swift and acts like a warm hug. Relief has me sagging into my desk chair.
I hate how easy it is to fall into old habits with him. But Colt hasn’t changed. He’s quieter, and oddly stoic for such a young guy, but his inherent sense of honor and decency are as strong as ever.
It’s more attractive than that pretty face of his.
And honestly, he’s so pretty it’s a crime.
“Tried to blackmail me into compliance. Said he’d spread gossip in town.” Checking my blood sugar, I snag a granola bar. “He might.”
“Let him. Leave this with me?—”
“No! You don’t have to do anything.”
“He needs to be dealt with.”
“Don’t make me regret sharing this with you.”
A soft growl sounds in my ear. In comparison to Clyde’s, it sends shivers down my spine. “If he contacts you again, you’ll tell me immediately.”
“Of course. I was going to call you but you rang first.”
“You were?”
“Yes.”
“I could kill him for triggering that alert.”
“Hormones,” I say lightly then bite into the bar.
“Were you stressed before?”
“No.” Work rarely stresses me out. “I overreacted.”
“You didn’t. He’s an asshole. If he threatens you?—”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“I don’t like having my hands tied,” he warns.
A smile dances on my lips. “I already knew that wasn’t your kink.” I can’t regret saying those words, not when he sputters in my ear. Grinning at finally getting the upper hand, I murmur, “I’ll speak to you later.”
And that’s the second Korhonen I hang up on in less than ten minutes.
This time, however, my smile curves into a grin.
My heart’s stopped pounding and the unease in my core has shifted into something else.
A mental picture of Colt tied to my headboard forms of its own volition.
Yum.