Page 28 of Of Blood and Smoke

Christina snapped at me, “After what happened downstairs, I was instructed to get you a replacement drink. Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care.”

Okayyyy.

She tapped at her keyboard and then shook her mouse. “Don’t forget you’re not special.”

How on earth was I going to survive this? “All right, I won’t. Thank you.”

I slid back into my seat and took a sip of the hot and delicious beverage, sending a text message to Ashley asking if she was okay. She answered quickly, saying she was fine and asking me to “spill the tea.” I didn’t reply, realizing if the company had installed software on my phone it stood to reason, they had access to everything.

A chill ran through me. Had I messaged or searched for anything that I wouldn’t want them to see? I tried to disengage from the company Wi-Fi, but my phone wouldn’t let me.

Groaning, I flipped my phone face down and got back to work. It didn’t matter what they did. If they needed a skin cell sample, I’d give it to them. I needed this job; it was my ticket to a better life for me and my dad.

FIFTEEN

Della

Over the next couple weeks, I visited my dad as often as I could, bringing books to read to his unconscious body. He was now in a medically induced coma due to the combination of his strokes and diabetes. I was reassured that it was certainly possible he knew I was there although he was still unable to give any signal to make me believe it.

In just a few days, he was being moved permanently to a long-term facility, much to my relief. I only wished he’d been conscious of how far we’d come, with me having a good job and being able to take care of him the way I’d always wanted to.

After taxes, my first paycheck was still an amount of money I never thought I’d receive at one time and more than enough to help my father.

The upcoming funds would go to a moving company and a few other bills. The apartment I’d found was still small, since it was in Manhattan, but it was perfect and shortened my commute drastically. And bonus—Ashley would only be a few blocks away because she was moving, too.

A bang sounded against my apartment door, and I went to open it. Brett shoved his way in, his arms full of boxes. “Youcould’ve made more than one trip you know.” I watched as half the cardboard slid to the floor.

Brett kicked the packing material out of the way and shut the door. “I didn’t feel like it. Where do you want these?” he asked but started trucking them into the living room, placing them on end next to the couch.

“Right there is fine, thanks.”

He placed his hands on his hips. “So where do you want to start?”

“You don’t have to help, I got this. Ashley might come over later.”

Brett stalked forward and the cardboard pressed into the back of my legs. “Don’t think that just because you got this new job I’m going to go away,” he warned me.

“In three weeks, I’ll have the rest of the money and then I do expect you to go away.”

His lips lifted into a cruel smile. “No, no. That’s not how this works. You fucked up and I want you. You know this.” He lifted his knuckles to my face and dragged his hand down, slowly.

I used to be attracted to him but recently, his appeal had waned. He didn’t seem that bad most of the time, since we had fun together and we had a mutual friend group. It’d been all too easy to overlook the ugly and make excuses.

Yes, I owed him money and yes, he’d helped me out with my dad, but that didn’t give him the right to dictate my life.

A couple years ago, around the time when we’d first started hanging out, we were at a party together at one of his friend's houses. This friend had a lot of drugs in the house, and I'd accidentally set a bunch on fire, effectively destroying the product. I owed tens of thousands of dollars to Brett after he took the blame for my clumsiness.

The whole thing was stupid. We’d gone to the basement for a few moments alone together and decided to smoke a joint andI’d dropped it right after I lit the cigarette. It then landed on a table full of illicit products and flammable chemicals and the evening ended with a bunch of men coming in and extinguishing the flames.

The fire department was never called and apparently, I'd almost blown up the multi-million-dollar home—according to Brett. It was a miracle the whole place hadn’t burned down and there was no identifiable reason it hadn’t. I’d gotten lucky.

“Oh, I know. And I appreciate you helping me out and I fully intend to pay you back. It’s been a long time and I’m working on it.” I still felt guilty, even though he was being a manipulative jerk. “You know I care about you, but just not the way you want me to. You know this.”

Brett leaned forward, trapping me between his arms against the couch. “I don’t think I’m making myself clear. I hear what they’re saying about you, you showing off that hot little body for your boss. Do you have the slightest idea who he is?” I sucked in a breath.

“I know about the gifts, too,” he added, as if I was being brought diamonds rather than coffees.

He sneered at me. “Like you’d stand a chance with that man. You’re nowhere near his level, Miss Ex-Drug Addict.”

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