Page 74 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

"I'm not trying to drag my feet. I'm trying not to fall on my ass." I put a little more effort into actually walking. "Maybe this would go a little more smoothly if you told me what in the hell it’s about?"

Amos turns to me, and I brace for another hit. He did warn me not to pretend like I don't know what's going on, but I'm legitimately not pretending. I really don’t know what in the hell is happening.

The back door of the waiting SUV swings open and a man in a suit steps out.

A man I fucking recognize.

He jerks his chin at the open door. "Get her in here. We need to get the fuck out of here before he notices she's gone."

Amos stuffs me into the back seat before climbing in behind me. The man I know parks his pasty ass on myother side, blocking me in so I can’t even try to jump out. I stare straight ahead, trying to watch both of them in my periphery, because I'm not sure which one of them is a bigger threat.

I have a pretty good guess though.

"This all could have been so much easier, Julieanne." Amos’s partner in literal crime watches me with a sneer on his lip. "We had a nice dinner. Good conversation. You could've invited me to your place, enjoyed a little one-on-one time, and then I could have handled all this when you went to sleep." He shakes his head, sucking his tongue between his teeth. "But you just had to go and be stuck-up."

I finally turn and face him, wishing I still had that gun Vincent gave me by the pond because I’d love to put a bullet between his eyes. And I wouldn’t feel bad about it. At all.

His saggy face is a little sweaty and his eyes have a wild edge. His suit is expensive, but who the fuck cares when the rest of him is hot garbage? I never really found this prick that attractive, but I thought maybe he'd grow on me. Turns out he kinda has. Like a wart. The genital version. "We must not have been on the same date, Clark."

Anger flares behind his eyes, and he leans closer. "Not my fault you’re a frigid bitch."

I laugh. I can't help it. It's probably because I'm hysterical, but I let myself think it's because I'm about as far from a frigid bitch as it gets. "Whatever." I start to ask what this is about again, but then I remember how far that's gotten me previously, so I press my lips together and face back out the windshield.

"You look awfully calm for a woman who pulled astunt like the one you pulled." Clark adjusts the jacket of his suit. "You should probably be a little more concerned for your well-being, considering you fucked me and then wouldn’t let me fuck you."

I decide to keep ignoring him because men like him enjoy being ignored so much and I want to piss him off. Make him irrational enough to fuck up. Hopefully it will give me an opportunity to get away.

Unfortunately my silence doesn’t seem to bother him because this particular man really fucking likes to listen to himself talk.

"You should probably be thanking me.” He smirks, like he’s amused. “Otherwise you would have found out the hard way that Vincent’s just using you."

I almost laugh again, because it's kinda comical that he thinks I'll believe Vincent is using me. I mean, I’m not opposed to letting him use me, but not in the way I think he's imagining.

However, his attempt to turn me against Vincent is a clue. To what, I don't know, but he talks so damn much, I'll probably know shortly.

"I'm not sure why you would believe Vincent wanted you in the first place. All Vincent wants is what's best for him, and he probably should've put a little more thought into what you really have to offer him." He leans closer. "And I'm not talking about your cunt."

I keep staring ahead, doing my best to school my features and wear an expression like Vincent would if he was in the situation. It seems like a better way to handle this than how I would react in this situation, because I'm pretty sure by now I’d be crying. Maybe even throwing up.

Though throwing up on them does sound like fun.

I continue staring out the windshield, wishing I was familiar enough with the area that I’d be able to figure out where we’re going, but nothing is jumping out at me. Everything's covered in snow and frozen, so it all looks pretty much the same. Even if I could contact Vincent somehow, I’d never be able to tell him how to find me.

The reality of my situation slowly starts to sink in, and I have to shove both hands between my thighs to hide the fact that they're starting to shake. Now I fully get why Vincent didn't want me working for GHOST. Why he brought me here and locked me up in his fortress of solitude, saying I couldn't have Internet access or talk to anyone. What I wouldn't give to be piled up on his couch with Radar draped across my lap, watching Netflix until my eyes glazed over.

Instead, I'm stuck between a traitor and his narcissistic, paunchy, boring as fuck boss.

Who is still freaking talking.

Clark leans back, draping one arm across the seat behind us. "Let me guess. Vincent told you he wasn’t gonna let you work for GHOST, but ended up bringing you in anyway and letting you dabble around on his system."

The reality is a little too close to his hypothesis, but I know Vincent. I know he's not using me. It still creates a little hint of insecurity in the back of my brain, and that makes me hate Clark even more.

I wonder if Vincent will let me be the one to shoot him when he shows up. He probably would if I asked. Deciding I’ll be the one to shoot this motherfucker between the eyes makes me feel a little better. Reminds me that while I might be the only one in the car with him now, I’m not alone.

Vincentwillfind me, and I almost consider feeling bad for these guys because of it. They don’t understand the lengths he will go to. The crimes he will commit. The blood he will spill to avoid losing someone he cares about. His wrath is going to be unmatched.

All I have to do is stay alive long enough. And I will. I'll do it for the same reason I let Amos get me in this car. I won’t allow anyone to hurt Vincent. He pretends to be all hard and emotionless, but that man has the most tender heart I think I've ever seen. Losing his mother almost broke it beyond repair, and there's no way I'm going to let him lose me.

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