Page 17 of Taking It Off

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffs.

“I can assure you, sir, that I am serious. Cut me off. Disown me. I don’t care. I’m not your puppet, and I won’t be jerked around by you anymore. I’m a grown man, and I have my own life to live. If you don’t like it, you can fuck off,” I growl. It’s not smart, and I know it. My father has a temper, and it has a very short fuse.

He’s around the desk with his hand on my throat before I can move. “I gave you everything, and this is how you talk to me? I should snap your neck right now, you disrespectful little shit.”

For a second, I think he’s going to do it. But he hesitates, and that’s all the opening I need. I punch him in the gut, then the jaw, and he releases me. Coughing and sputtering, I draw in a few ragged breaths. I back up to the door, putting space between us.

“I might be a disrespectful little shit, but at least I’m not abusive. This is the last time you’ll ever put your hands on me. If you try again, I will kill you. Do you understand me, old man?” I lock eyes with him and for a moment, I think he might be scared. It’s hard to tell, because he’s a shapeshifter like me. We have an easy time bluffing, because we can change our eyes at will.

“You don’t know what you’re doing. Come home now and I’ll forgive this transgression,” he offers. I shake my head and laugh at him.

“Why do you want me home so badly? You’ll never be able to control me the way you do Mom. You might as well forget it, because I’m never coming back now,” I say, jerking the door open and storming out.

EMILY

The door slams and I turn to see Will storming into the apartment. I stand up and walk toward him. “Are you okay? Luke said your dad called and you had to go meet him.”

Will shakes his head but lets me pull him into my arms. He’s so upset that he’s shaking. Once he’s in my arms, he hugs me so tight that it’s hard to breathe. I won’t complain, though. He needs me, and I’ll do whatever I can to make him feel better.

Luke and Jeremy walk over and wrap their arms around us. The group hug is nice, even if I’m being squished. “What did he say this time?” Jeremy asks.

“The usual. I need to move home. This time he told me that he’s cutting me off.” Will coughs a little, and I notice the purple marks on his neck.

“Did he do this to you?” I ask, my eyes going wide. Rage boils through me, and I desperately want to be the one to handle his father.

Will blushes and dips his head. “It’s okay, really. I punched him a couple of times, and he knows now that he’ll never touch me again. Or else.”

“Damn straight,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry that your dad treated you that way,” Luke says. “It was because of what happened to my dad, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about it, Luke. I took care of it. I’m not going anywhere, and he understands that now.” Will hugs Luke, looking at me over his shoulder. It’s touching how close these guys are, and I’m thrilled to be part of it.

Even as I have the thought, I know that this drama is my fault. If I hadn’t accepted the contract and killed Luke’s father…no, that’s not fair. He would have been taken out anyway, even if it had been someone else who did it.

I’ve worked most of my life to rid the world of these horrible men. I can’t let myself second guess that now. I have to keep researching the trafficking ring and find out who’s in charge. If I can take him or her out, I might be able to stop them all. I have to stay focused on the mission and stop letting guilt tear me apart.

“I’ll get lunch started,” Jeremy offers, heading to the kitchen. A few minutes later, we’re all settled on the couch with plates full of sandwiches and pasta salad.

Will turns on a movie, and we eat in silence. For the first time in days, it actually feels comfortable instead of awkward.

seven

THE NEXT MARK

EMILY

Spending time with my guys is just what I need to chase the aftermath of my nightmare away. By the time we finish the movie, my spirits are lifted. They tease me about my cam show this afternoon, and I roll my eyes.

“Go ahead and make fun…I can always terminate your subscriptions so you can’t watch,” I threaten with a laugh.

As their objections ring out, something small and black catches my eye from the console table against the wall. The small black rectangle seems to be calling to me. I dart over and pick it up, knowing instantly what it is. I turn it over in my hand, staring at the name printed in crimson ink.

“Hey, what’s that?” Will asks, walking toward me.

“Nothing,” I say, rushing to tuck the card in my pocket. The corner of it pokes my finger and the card disappears the moment my blood touches it. “Ow.” The target information materializes in my brain just like last time. I fight to hide the sense of shock at the influx of data. I show Will my hands and shrug.

“Weird. It looked like you had a business card in your hand a minute ago,” he says, taking my hands and looking them over. “Oh, you’re bleeding.” He rushes off to find a bandage, and I barely hold back the sigh of relief.

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