Page 186 of Chasing Infinity

“Y-y-yes, sir.”

A cell phone ping echoes throughout the room, and I want to punch something. I recognize the tone as Charlie’s, and irritation flows through me.Of all the times to be texting.

“Pull it away from the wall,” my father’s command rings out, and I scowl.

Footsteps come closer to the couch, and my body tightens at the prospect of being discovered. I reach for the gun in my waistband, preparing for the worst. But it doesn’t come to that.

As the footsteps come closer, a speckle of dust enters my nose. Terror erupts in my stomach as I rub at it furiously, trying to get it out of my system. But it’s no use. The dust filters into my nose, tickling the tiny hairs lining my nostrils mercilessly. I feel the tingle of a sneeze at the back of my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it away. But luck is not on my side tonight.

I sneeze.

Loudly.

I curse under my breath as the couch is pulled away from the wall, revealing my hiding place.

The ugly man staring down at me gapes his mouth open. He hesitates for a second before gripping my shirt and yanking me from behind the furniture. “Boss, look what I found!”

“Let him go,” my father says, and the man listens and takes a few steps away from me as if I’m radioactive. Silence falls over the room, and I push myself up from my knees into a standing position. I straighten my posture, facing my father in the moment we all knew was coming eventually.

My father narrows his eyes for a fraction of a second before his expression softens, and he holds his hands out. “Noah, how nice of you to join us.” I raise an eyebrow, wondering what his game here is. “Lionel, have you met my son?”

My father’s henchman looks at me and then back to my father. “Your son? What was he doing behind the couch?”

My father rubs at his perfectly groomed jaw. “Hm, that is a good question, isn’t it? Would you like to inform the class, Noah?”

“Where’s Addison?” I growl at him.

“I’m certain I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Cut the shit, you know exactly who I’m talking about, and you know exactly where she is,” I shout back.

My father examines his suit coat, picking off a piece of invisible lint and flicking it away. “I might. What would be in it for me, though?”

His question catches me off guard, though it shouldn’t. A bubble of trepidation forms in my gut. “You want to make a deal?”

“Isn’t this what this whole cat-and-mouse game has been leading up to? At some point, it has to come to an end. Either I win, you win, or we come to an agreement. Now, Noah, you know I’m reasonable, so tell me. What are you willing to give me for the safety of your sweet little girlfriend?”

I run the tip of my tongue over my teeth, considering his challenge. Experience tells me I must proceed carefully, but this situation feels like a ticking time bomb. I’m afraid I’ll suffer the consequences no matter what route I take.

Different options course through my mind as I search for the right one. Nothing I can offer my father will satisfy what he’s after. He wants immunity, and I can’t do that. He’s done too much.

Finally, I settle on the compromise that I’ll try and get him a lesser sentence. If I sell it well enough, he might go for it. As I open my mouth to make my offer, Charlie comes flying into the room like a bat out of hell. He attacks Lionel first, choosing to take out the henchman as a threat.

My jaw falls open as I watch them fight. My father, in front of me, grunts at the interruption, crossing his arms over his chest, unimpressed.

I see quickly that Charlie is outmatched. Lionel fights dirty. They grapple for a few minutes until it appears Lionel has had enough. He grips his gun out of his holster and swings.

“Charlie!” I shout as Lionel strikes his gun against the side of his head. The sound of the gun slicing into his skull rings in my ears, and I want to throw up as I watch him crumple to the ground, out cold.

My father looks unamused as his henchman turns to him and gives him a thumbs up. He rolls his eyes and then turns back to me. “Sorry about that interruption. Where were we? Ah yes, our deal.”

“I need to see her first,” I tell him. My heart rate has started to slow back down from watching Charlie fight.

My father looks back to Lionel, who nods his head once, walking to the trap door in the floor and opening it. My father motions for me with his hand to follow him. I do, though every step I take is hesitant. As soon as we’re standing in front of the trap door, I swallow thickly as I stare into the darkness lying underneath. A set of rickety old wooden stairs lead down into a dank basement. My father grabs onto my shoulders with a bruising grip, spinning me until I face him again.

“Why don’t you say hello to your girlfriend, Noah?” my father sneers. Before I have the chance to catch up with what’s happening, he raises his perfectly polished shoe and kicks me square in my sternum.

Gravity does what it does best and propels me downwards. As I fall down, the rickety stairs dig into my back, head, and shoulders. Each hit sends pain shooting through my body from the force of which I’m falling.

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