Page 29 of Sinful
So I’m a dog now? The cadence of his voice changes and his English accent becomes more pronounced. I listen in as I fill another bowl with cereal, then add milk. He’s a dick, but I don’t think he’s eaten all day either.
“Tonight? I thought that was only for members of the firm... Yes sir... It’s an honor.”
I pour the milk into one of the bowls and pick up a spoon and begin to eat. It’s hard to equate the simpering tones Dacre is using to the asshole I know he is.
“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”
I pour milk into the other bowl when I hear him moving toward me.
“I have to go out tonight,” he snaps, and I know he’s talking to me again. His voice is so much rougher. I hear the bowl of cereal scrape across the kitchen counter, then the metallic clink of the spoon hitting the china.
My heart lifts for a second. If he goes out, I’ll have the apartment to myself. I won’t try to run again, but I will snoop around. When this is all over, no matter how it ends, I need to have something on these men. Some leverage beyond the money they think I represent. I feel the tension leave my body. I hadn’t even realized just how knotted up I’ve been feeling around the three of them until the prospect of being left alone. Being alone is the one thing that doesn’t scare me. I’ve had many years to get used to it.
“Nix, I need you to take my shift.” My heart falls just as quickly as I hear him on the phone again.
I can’t hear Nix’s answer, but I can figure it out by what Dacre says next.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, man. She’s here because of you.”
Silence, then, “It’s your fucking turn. I’ve been invited to a ball for the senior partners. Do you know how prestigious this is? No one gets a ticket. Especially not interns.”
I hear a beep then “Fuck!”
He dials again. “Mercier. Pick up the fucking phone!”
I chew my cereal thoughtfully. If he can’t get Nix or Mercier to watch me, he’ll be forced to leave me alone or miss his ball, which he obviously doesn’t want to do. for the first time since coming to this place, I feel the corners of my mouth twitch upward.
I need time away from these men. When they are around, it’s like the air is sucked out of my lungs and it takes every ounce of energy I have just to breathe. I’m always in fight-or-flight mode, with neither option available to me, and it’s quite clear they don’t really know what to do with me when my father finally does come back to the US. I’m not sure which frightens me most. Spending the next week here with them, or them handing me back over. I don’t trust any of them. I know the shit will hit the fan when my father refuses to pay them the thirty million. I just need to be far away when that happens. I just don’t know how. There has to be a way out of this mess and with luck, tonight I’m going to have the space to figure it out.
Dacre paces the apartment, his feet as heavy as his huffing and puffing. The air is thick with tension and I can almost feel the anger rolling off him as he stomps past me time and time again. My chest tightens. Dacre isn’t like Mercier or Josh, but he has his own brand of danger. I don’t know him well enough to know how he will cope with something like this. He’s angry, but will that anger turn against me? I’m the obstacle standing in his way.
He presses dial once again and I wonder who is left to call. There’s no one left that knows I’m here.
“Sheila, It’s Alexander. I need a dress... I don’t know. What size do models usually wear? She’s about five four... Oh and Sheila, it’s for a big black-tie event. I want the best. Send it up and charge my card. I want it here by five.”
My hands grip the spoon and bowl and I realize how foolish I’ve been. There’s no way any of them are going to let me out of their sight. Especially not Dacre after what happened this morning. Not until the day they can finally get rid of me, right into my father’s clutches.
“Don’t eat too much,” Dacre snaps irritably. “We’re going out tonight.”
25
DACRE
Fuck Nix for bringing me into this shit and fuck Mercier for not picking up his phone. I don’t know why he even has it if he never bothers to answer the goddamned thing.
I can’t believe I’m taking Lucinda Waldgrave to a black-tie event in the heart of Manhattan. It’s completely fucking insane and yet what choice do I have? I’m a fucking intern. Interns never get invited to shit like this. If I turn down this chance, I might never get another one. I can’t rely on this ridiculous scheme I’ve come up with to succeed. We’ll be fucking lucky if we don’t end up in jail. I only told Nix it to get him to actually step up and help us in this shit mess he created. If, by some miracle, we do manage to evade the law, there’s no way on this earth we are going to get the thirty million Lucinda promised. Hell, the girl would have told us any bullshit to get away from her father, and I fell for it. We all did. Well, this is a real chance and I’m not going to fuck it up. Nix will probably murder me and I’m already cringing at the thought of Mercier’s smug as shit expression when he finds out I’ve broken rule number one, but I can’t pass this up. If I don’t fuck this entire evening up, we might not even need Lucinda anymore. The thought pacifies me.
I look over at her. She’s spent the day watching shit on TV. Her hair is all kinds of fucked up. From this angle, I can see her scalp under the shaved remains of black hair on one side. I cannot take her looking like this. She’s like a mongrel that Mercier scraped from the streets. From this angle, her absolute beauty is hidden beneath the rat's nest she calls hair. I can almost pretend that she hasn’t gotten under my skin. I need to keep it that way. I don’t need any more complications.
The house phone rings, taking my attention away from her.
“Yes?” I sigh.
“It’s Bobby, Mr. Dacre, sir. A young lady by the name of Sheila has brought a package for you. Would you like me to bring it up?”
I let out a long breath. “I’ll come and get it. I’ll be right down.”
I leave Lucinda watching the TV. It’s impossible to know if she heard me leave, but I get the feeling she knows a lot more than she lets on. She has an uncanny way of knowing where I am and where other things are without being able to see them. It’s some blind superpower shit. I’ve heard that when a person is blind, their other senses over compensate, but until now I never saw it in action. She’s not the helpless little mouse she first appeared to be, neither is she the sex goddess painted by the media. In fact, I can’t read her at all. She’s somewhere in between the two, not quite one and not quite the other, but not normal either. She’s the most abnormal person I’ve ever met and I’ve met some fucked up crazies in my time.
