Page 14 of Bottoms
“Father, wait. I have a matter to discuss,” Tanner said, his tone all business.
I watched Mr. Ryland’s back straighten, and his face smoothed into a hard, calm stare. “Follow me, boys,” he said, gesturing with his hand to the staircase inside the pool house. It led to a hallway made of glass that appeared to float around the top edges of the room.
The air was cooler here, unlike the tropical heat of the indoor oasis. Tanner walked a step behind his father. I walked side by side with Colten, taking up the rear. Tables and chairs were arranged every so often, and we headed for a set far enough away from the stairwell that we couldn’t be heard by someone unseen.
Mr. Ryland took a seat, sitting back against the bamboo chair with his knees splayed. His body sat casually, but the hard look remained on his face. This may be business, but he knew he couldn’t be touched in his house. Not even by an NYPD detective.
“You’re short three of your security team,” I said after we all took a seat.
Mr. Ryland’s gaze slid to me like a snake coiling around my body. I had only been in a room with him a handful of times. Every time I saw him next to Tanner, I wondered why he had felt the need to question paternity. Other than finding out his wife had been fucking his business partner and neighbor. Still, they looked nearly identical. Other than the signs of aging that streaked Mr. Ryland’s hair with more white than black these days. Looking into his hard stare wasn’t different from looking into Tanner’s.
I sighed, sitting back in the chair more comfortably. It felt like I could breathe again. I may not have been born into this world, but I sure as hell had earned my place and knew how to navigate these treacherous waters.
“Is that a creative way of saying you killed three of my men?” Mr. Ryland said with a dark chuckle.
“They are the three men that made the assassination attempt on the mayor last week,” Colten said formally, earning the center of attention.
“Clearly, I do not know anything about that,” Mr. Ryland said with a snip. “I thought I saw something on the news about it, though. Terrible shame when good employees go rogue.” He stared at Colten with a look of barely contained disgust. Colten was still subject to shame for his father’s sins and always would be under this roof.
“They weren’t there for the mayor, Father,” Tanner snipped. His father whipped his head in Tanner’s direction, no doubt glaring at him for the tone he had dared to use. “They were after a girl of special interest to me, and considering they belonged to you, it’s not hard to see your hand at play here.” Tanner’s voice rose with every word as he lost all pretense of control.
Mr. Ryland didn’t shrink away from his son’s tone. Instead, he smiled cruelly, like he had been waiting for this moment for years. “I told you, son; they are all whores.”
Hot rage burned through my blood, but I remained in my seat, knowing this was our best chance to get information to find Nessa. I shot Tanner a quick look, but his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
“She isn’t Mom,” Tanner shouted, slamming his palms on the table as he stood. He leaned towards his father, looking down at him. “What were you planning on doing with her?”
“Amira uses my security team for errands at times. You may want to ask her,” Mr. Ryland said, looking up to Tanner with a look that made Tanner slink back into his seat. “She should be here later in the evening. You boys should stay for dinner, and then you can ask her yourself.”
We didn’t bother waiting for Amira to arrive. There wasn’t any point. If Amira was involved, it could have only meant that she saw her at the party when Nessa was nearly raped. The party had been the worst thing we could have done to Nessa, and now she was paying for our mistakes.
Even if we managed to get Nessa free from Fynn, we would have to help make her disappear forever. Even if that meant none of us could ever contact her again.
5
PSYCHO-logist Santa
Itdidn’tsurprisemewhen I finally decided to get out of bed in the morning. Neither Santa nor the boys had come into my room to whisk me away for a Christmas miracle. My mom had said I needed to be sleeping when Santa got to our house, or he would just pass it by and give my presents to another little girl. Sleeping while my mind raced and my body screamed in agony was difficult. Guess that’s why I missed my ride on the sleigh.
I held on to the railing and eased my way down the old wooden stairs. The steps creaked and groaned when I attempted to make my way into the kitchen. Cold sweat beaded my forehead, and I focused on not crumpling to the floor with each step I took.
Fynn was sitting at the table when I finally made my way into the kitchen, a lit cigarette between his lips. When I stumbled into the room, he didn’t look up from whatever he was reading. Lifting a coffee cup, he placed it in front of the spot which had become mine. I could see the swirling wisps of steam rising from the rim, and I surged forward, only to collapse in the chair. My head felt dizzy from all the movement, and I laid it on the cool surface of the table beside my steaming cup of black coffee.
I just needed a moment to recover.
“Today should be the worst of the withdrawal,” Fynn said coolly, as if I wasn’t dying on the table next to him.
My heart started to beat wildly in my chest, like a stampeding herd of wild animals with no discernable rhythm other than fast. Renewed waves of cold sweat hit simultaneously, and another round of uncontrollable shaking slammed into me. I lay in an undignified heap half on the table, squeezing my eyes closed while tears leaked from them. It took a while before my body started to calm, leaving me panting on the table while I tried to gather enough strength to lift my head. My cheek rested on the cool surface while my eyes were left with only Fynn to watch.
Fynn continued to flip through the pages held in his hands, uninterested in my pain. The cherry of his cigarette glowed red with his last inhale before he crushed the remainder inside an ashtray.
When I finally recovered enough to sit up, I noticed a small puddle of drool left behind on the table. I used the sleeve of my good arm to wipe it away before reaching up to drag the coffee cup towards me. Looking into the energizing drink's dark, swirling depths, I wished I was at Colten’s apartment. After our first night together, my offered coffee cup was always delivered with the perfect mix of cream and sugar already added. Colten was always so thoughtful and mild-tempered. I tried to imagine him as a killer.
“I have milk and sugar, but I forgot to get the non-dairy creamer you like,” Fynn said before my mind could start thinking about Colten.
“I would rather drink it black,” I said with a slight amount of disgust.
“Would you like me to pick up some wigs at the store when I get your creamer?”
