Page 31 of Heathen

Heathen

I don't know if leaving her alone in the hotel room was the right thing to do, but I couldn't think of any other recourse.

If I'm going to face the firing line, I'd rather do that alone, at least to try and maintain some dignity.

I pull in a deep frustrated breath when my phone rings, a familiar area code attached to the number that's showing on the display screen.

"Hello," I say, after hitting the hands-free button on the steering wheel, knowing if I avoid the call it will only make things worse.

"What janitorial service costs fifteen thousand dollars?" the voice on the other line asks rather than starting the conversation the normal way with a hello or even taking the time to ask if the person answering is the person they intended to reach.

"A very expensive one," I tell the person, not recognizing their voice.

I never expect my mother or father to be the one to call about one of these types of situations, so I don't know why this stranger's voice sort of hurts my feelings.

"Actually, I bought a wife," I tell the man, waiting to see if it's enough for him to put my father on the phone, but I'm met with a long beat of silence. "Isn't that what he wanted? For me to settle down and have a family?Wasn'tthat the stipulation for releasing my trust fund?"

The silence continues, and I know I'm just beating a dead horse. I want nothing from my family. I've forged my own life without them, and the last thing I need is the money they'vebeen trying to hold over my head. They say they've disowned me, but I know there has to be some hope somewhere, because that credit card charge went through today without a hitch.

"Mr. Burke Sr. would like to make sure that the balance is paid before it accrues interest."

"Of course," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose in annoyance at the red light. "Anything else?"

"That's all. Have a lovely day, Mr. Burke."

The call ends before I can utter another word.

I knew using that gold card was going to trigger something in my father's campaign, but the card didn't have my real name on it. It's registered to one of my family's many businesses, something someone would require very extensive computer skills to link back to me. I had planned to lie about who I was, but then was faced with the government-issued ID requirement for the marriage license, and that ruined everything. Edmon held my card through the multiple lineups of women, and there was no point in asking him to use a different one.

Just like yesterday, I'm too distracted to see the light turn green, and the blare of a horn behind me brings me back to the moment.

I hit the gas, driving with the navigation to get back to the villa, wondering just how much trouble I'm going to be in with Cerberus.

I'm surprised to find that my code still works for the front gate, and I pull the SUV into the garage. There's a chance that I'll be told to pack my shit, and although I do think that order will come with a plane ticket to wherever I plan to land, I doubt they'll let me have access to another vehicle on my own.

I pull in a deep breath when I step inside the house, hanging the keys on the wall.

There's no rush of people. Kincaid doesn't come out from one of the other rooms with a look of disappointment on his face.

I'm met with nothing but silence.

I feel like my soul leaves my body when my phone rings, the sound echoing around the room before I can answer it.

I pull it from my back pocket and answer it as I step back outside, noting the vast difference in temperatures from the house to out here.

"Hello?"

"Daddy Dearest is upset with you."

I smile at the sound of my little sister's voice on the other end of the line.

"Which servant did he have call this time? I didn't recognize his voice."

"That would be Marshall Whiters," she says, changing her voice to sound very important and official.

Another grin spreads across my face.

"What did Daddy Dearest say to you?"

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