Page 80 of Devoured
“You chose your business over her. You didn’t try to work it out.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do though, Roland. We’re doing the same thing here.”
I flexed my arms, taking another step forward, but Iris didn’t back away. She held her ground. My face reddened. “She seduced me so that I would look away. So that I wouldn’t see that she was killing my customers. Innocent kids, Iris. Barely adults.” A vein in my neck pulsed, throbbing in anger. “What are you seducing me for?” I narrowed my eyes at her, then pushed her shoulders against the wall. Her eyes widened. “What are you here for, Iris? Tell me. Tell me how you’re so much better, so much different than her. How you’re better than me.”
Our air leaked out in heavy breaths, neither of us willing to speak, our eyes holding each other still.
“I know you set up the abduction,” she said.
I let go of her shoulders. She stood against the wall, then rubbed her arms. I took a step back.
“So?”
“You manipulated me,” she said. “You thought you could trick me. Why didn’t you ever tell me what happened?” She shook her head. “You could’ve told me it was a sex game. I wouldn’t have cared. Trust me,” she forced a sarcastic laugh, “That’s not the weirdest request I’ve fulfilled.”
This was irritating. If I had Valium or Xanax—hell, if I had Molly or even two long islands, these feelings wouldn’t war inside of me. Her assumptions. Her accusations. My absolute rage.
Because she was right and I knew it. I had manipulated her in more ways than one.
“I needed you to trust me,” I said. “And fuck me if I wanted to have fun earning that trust.” My lips turned down. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get off on the thrill of it. I know you did.”
A few seconds of silence passed between us.
“Come on. Don’t tell me it was that much of a shock to you,” I laughed loudly, rubbing it in her face. “You knew, as well as I did, that it was a setup.”
“Maybe,” she said quietly. “Maybe I did. But couldn’t you have treated me like an actual business associate?” She crossed her arms, gaining fire again. “No. You couldn’t. Because you never thought of me like an equal. You had to screw with me because you never once took me seriously.”
How the hell could I have taken her anymoreseriously than I did now?
But those weren’t the words that came out.
“You never would have listened to me,” I said. “You don’t listen to anyone.” My blood pressure continued to rise, the heat throbbing in my neck and cheeks. “You came in like a flame ready to tear everything apart. Ready to destroy me. But that’s not how business works, Iris. Not when you’re trying to convince someone to sell you their club for a fraction of what they paid for it.” My muscles quivered, itching to move, to break something. “What was I supposed to do? Sit with you in negotiations for six weeks? Try to get you to see it my way, to force you to learn to be the bigger person? To accept the title of general manager? Fuck no,” I yelled. “I wanted to show you that you had to learn to work with someone else. To surrender. To give yourself to something if you truly wanted it. That you can’t set fire to everything that stands in your way.”
“But you can’t run away from it either,” she whispered.
I blinked my eyes, then stepped back from her again, turning towards the window. A man was standing out there, leaning against one of the light posts, his black hair waving in the wind.
“Why did you end the bet?” she asked, her voice meek again, ripping me to shreds, worse than any of her accusations. “Tell me. If you wanted me to learn to work for someone else, then why did you end it?”
“Because, Iris. It’s business.” I turned around, facing her. “You wanted to convince me to give you the Dahlia District. And you convinced me.” My voice was monotone: “Business is business, Iris. And our business is over.” I checked my watch, then went to the bedroom. Her footsteps pattered behind me. “I’ve got to go to New York,” I said over my shoulder.
“New York?”
“Buying a club there.”
“So you’re done here?”
I grabbed my suitcase off of the floor. “I’ve got to leave now if I’m going to make my flight.”
“You have a private jet.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s no flight to catch.”
“I have a meeting. I could lose the club if I don’t go now.” I pushed past her, heading for the door. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Don’t do this,” she said.
“Do what?”
