Page 21 of Hunting Harbor

I’m not as safe as I thought, am I?

Chapter Nine

Kairo

Fivefuckersinfive-thousand-dollarsuits try to make a move on me, to force me out of the business I was given. The easy, old money venture that I deserve to run. “Under no fucking circumstances will that happen.” They shift in their seats as I tighten my grip on the edge of the table, white knuckles and a jumping pulse the only clues to what I’m feeling.

Slade is next on their hit list. They want his head, but I want him here, and I get what I want. Silence. Uneasy glances.

They’re all afraid of me, so they keep their mouths shut and watch me with their beady little eyes. One clears his throat and tries again. “Slade did target that CEO, Kairo, it’s caused us a headache to clean up.”

“Oh? Where’s your proof? I happen to know you have none, so how about you save your false concern and put your energyinto finding us more raw materials for cheaper. How about that, William, huh?”

His mouth opens and shuts like a dying fish before he clears his throat again and looks away.

“We feel your attention is divided, Kairo. This situation has the potential to negatively impact the company.” Another tries. This was tiresome. I didn’t give a fuck about the company, only that it keeps bringing me enough money to do whatever the hell I wanted. “We are moving to remove your friends from the board. It’s you or them.”

I watch them like insects. Flick my eyes from one cowardly face to the next. They believe the act, that I care, that I’m interested in anything other than walking out of here and back to where I belong. I laugh, low, threatening. “Touch my title or theirs, and I’ll crush your fucking skulls with it.”

They take the hint. Two nod as though placating a child. Another scribbles nonsense on his expensive notebook. Suits make men feel powerful, but they’re weak and fragile. I grip the table until I hear a creak.

“Understood.” The board member closest to me speaks again, voice shaking more than his hand, which rattles the pen he thinks I don’t notice. “We, uh, do need to discuss what Slade was doing in Africa, however, to put out a news release. The latest reports on him...”

I cut him off, smacking my hand down on the table with a loud thud. One of them jumps in his seat and a feral snarl curls at the ends of my lips. “The latest reports on him were falsified.” By me. “I will not discuss this further.”

The fucking meeting drags like nails on a chalkboard. I rise, slowly, my movement freezing them into their sleek leather chairs. My suit is darker than blood and more expensive than their net worth. I straighten it with deliberate care and adjust my collar, watching them watch me.

They scribble last-minute notes and pass uncertain glances as I survey the table one last time. They know I hold their careers in my palm. They have no idea I can snuff out more than that. Or maybe they do and that’s why they stay silent.

I walk out before anyone can dismiss me. My phone buzzes with Knox’s name, lighting up like an incessant fly in my pocket. I dismiss the calls with a flick of my wrist, face placid, each step measured. Restraint instead of calm. Stupid fuck was supposed to be here today. To be my right hand man, but he dropped the ball.

Sure, I saved his job today, but I was going to crush his windpipe if he didn’t have a good reason why he wasn’t here.

I reach the hallway, the door swinging shut behind me like a seal on their fate. My steps echo down the polished marble, each one louder than any of the cowards in there dared to speak against me.

Time to go home and see what my girl was doing.

The bathroom fills with steam, but it doesn’t cloud my vision. Water pounds my skin, washing away the grime of corporate desperation. It was all a fucking joke. The top 1% making decisions for the 99 who didn’t have the money to sit at long tables and talk about dumb shit everyday. And they worship us,thankus, for destroying the planet, for destroying the world, families, morals, all so their lives are a fraction of an inch easier.

Pathetic.

I make quick work of the shower, turning my focus to more important things. An apartment across the city. A girl with trembling hands. She is all I fucking see. When I settle at the monitors, it’s like being cleansed all over again. I hear her voice. “Just need to clear my head. One drink, that’s it.”And there’s my opportunity to make my move.

Harbor.

My wardrobe is a mix of suits, casual and informal business. As much as I want to dress down tonight, something tells me I should pick informal business. I smile at the thought of her seeing me this way. Sharp. Elegant. Not in a suit but in dark jeans, a collared shirt, sleeves rolled once, casual and perfect. Just like she will be.

Multiple screens flicker to life, a dozen glowing promises, each one more thrilling than the last. Her apartment building. Her street. Her door. Her bedroom.

I don’t bother sitting, just lean over the controls with greedy eyes, breath matching the tempo of her moving from room to room. The strain of keeping away from her builds in my chest, delicious pressure that makes me grin. If I didn’t know she’d be mine by now, I’d think it was a heart attack.

My eyes track her every movement. Lights up. Coat on. Close-up on those trembling fingers applying lipstick.

The color is blood, is sex, is fucking surrender.

I crank the audio, and her voice pours into me. It’s better than I expected.

"Fuck, I can’t believe the shit that is my life right now. I need a Goddamn break. I need to get the fuck away from here."

---