Page 71 of Octane

“Sawyer, quit throwing a temper tantrum so we can sit down and talk like grown adults. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say, trust me. Your family's well-being depends on it.”

My body goes rigid as soon as the words leave his mouth, and I stop fighting him.

“There, that’s better. Now, we’re going to go sit down, and you’re going to keep quiet and still and let me say what I came here to say, do you understand me?”

Trembling, I nod my head. Daniel walks me over to the bed and removes his hand from my mouth.

“Sit.” I take a seat on the edge of the bed where he points.

“My teammates are expecting me downstairs right now. When I don’t show up, Jackson will come looking for me.”

He abandons the chair he’s pulling over here at the mention of Jackson’s name and viciously wraps his hand around my throat. Pushing me backward on the bed, he leans over me.

“Don’t fucking say his name ever again,” he demands threateningly. “He’s nothing but trouble and the reason we’re in this mess in the first place.”

His eyes pin me as much as his hand does. Scanning my face, he seems satisfied that he’s scared me sufficiently and removes his hand from my neck.

He grabs my phone from its charger and unlocks it.

Shit. No. No. No.

I don’t want him to see my messages with Jackson. He’s going to lose his mind.

I know the moment he sees them because he paralyzes me with a violent stare. I should have gotten up, ran to the door, and gotten out, but I couldn’t move. I wait for him to charge. To attack me and work his anger out. But he doesn’t. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he types something out on my phone. Then he drops it on the ground and smashes it under his foot a couple times.

Only when my phone is in about a thousand pieces on the floor does he pick up the chair from where it fell and pulls it over to the bed. He places it directly in front of me, sits down, then takes a deep breath like he’s just had a hard workout.

Is it because I’m finally fighting you back, you fucking bastard?

I’ll never be his subservient little hostage again. I’ll let him say what he needs to say, and then I’ll figure out how to make him leave.

“Say whatever the hell it is you came here to say, Daniel. I have things to do.”

The smile that breaks out on his face when I speak to him the way I did is terrifyingly serene.

“You know, you’re much sexier when you fight back. I think I like this new Sawyer.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He places a hand on my knee, and I quickly slap it away.

“Anyway, I came here to bring you home.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I think you might change your mind when you hear what I have to say. See, a few years back, your father made a couple bad investments. He owed the wrong people some money and couldn’t pay them. Tried to get out of it by borrowing more money that he couldn’t pay back and so on. You get the picture, I’m sure.”

“I know all about that,” I lie. I didn’t know the severity of my father’s business blunder, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I also know that my father was able to turn it around, and he broke even a few years ago.”

“Yes, which brings us to my business proposition.”

I don’t like the way he says business proposition. It sounds phony and one-sided, as I’m sure it is.

“My father has been funneling money into your father’s company for the last three years to keep it afloat.”

“What? No, you’re lying.” I say the words, but I’m not sure I believe them. After the conversation with my father about my trust a few weeks ago, I realized that I don’t really know him as well as I thought I did.

“Am I?” he smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why would he do that?” I question.

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