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And all I had to do was compromise all my morals and, in reality, my dignity as well.
What a price to pay.
Chapter
Sixteen
HENDRICK
I should write a fucking diary entry for every goddamn day I refrain from going to Allison’s in the middle of the night. Like a goddamn addict, I crave her. I’m not worried about her the way I was when she was kidnapped, but I’m goddamn jonesin’ for her body, for her smile, for those eyes that look into my soul and own every inch of me.
Shaking thoughts of her out of my head, I focus on my task. It’s in front of me. It’s been in front of me, and for a while, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking at, but as I take it in, I know what it is. I just didn’t think it was real.
Dad was right. Samson is without a doubt taking money from the family, but it’s bigger than that. Though, isn’t it always? I don’t think it’s as big as the shit Uncle Dean did a few months ago, but this is still fairly large.
I’m watching as he leans in close to his son, his eyes focused on him as he hisses his next few words. “I think the director is on to me.”
His son, Tait, leans back in his seat, kicking his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles before he responds. “Why do you say that?”
“There has not been one private or business conversation in his home office for the past two weeks. That’s not normal.”
“Maybe he’s going into his actual office instead of staying at home. Do you think he would let you walk around free if he knew you were skimming off the top?” he asks.
Samson shakes his head from side to side. “You don’t know Henry,” he murmurs. “He hates going into the office unless he has a meeting or something. He sticks close to home, always has.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to do about it?”
There is a moment of silence, and I watch as Samson’s eyes narrow on his son. If my father looked at me that way, I would for sure be getting slapped or something within the next thirty seconds. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, Samson stands and places his palms on the desk as he leans forward.
“I want you to figure out what the fuck he knows.”
“How?” Tait asks. “There is no bullshitting the director, especially not to his face. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t even think he would talk to me if he saw me walking down the street. I’m not high enough ranked to even be on his radar.”
“Exactly,” Samson murmurs. “You aren’t on his radar, so you need to figure out how to get inside. Get a job at his office, or at his house. Be the fucking cable man. I don’t give a shit how you do it. I just need to know what he knows.”
Tait jumps to his feet, his hands immediately going to his hips as he does, and he leans forward slightly. “No,” he sneers. “I won’t be doing any of that. I like money, I like the little thing we got going on and the potential for more, but I’m not putting myself out there like that. You want that information, do it your fucking self.”
He turns around and starts to walk out of the office, but when Samson calls out his name, he stops. I watch as he turns his head, looking over his shoulder at his father.
“You don’t do it, I’m sending one of your sisters in, and her job won’t be to just be the cable man,” he says, his voice full of innuendo that makes my skin crawl. Now this shit reminds me of Uncle Dean but in a much fucking creepier way.
“You do that shit, and I’ll offer myself as a fucking martyr. I won’t give a fucking shit if I die in the process.”
Cousin Samson’s eyes widen, and then I watch as his cheeks redden, likely with anger, and I can’t help but smirk at the sight of them. I fucking love it when assholes start eating one another. It’s a goddamn joy to watch.
But I don’t get to bask in the glory for long because right after his kid leaves, Samson sinks back down in his chair and reaches for his cell phone. Except it’s not the phone I have hacked into. This is clearly a different one. Fuck me, he has another phone. I don’t know why I didn’t think about a burner.
I feel like a big fucking idiot. I have a burner myself, but only for backup. You never know when someone has eyes and ears on you, and sometimes you just can’t use your regular phone, but this shit is different. He has a burner to betray the family, and that is un-fucking-acceptable.
“Yeah,” he grinds out. “I’m in. Just tell me when and where. No. Just me. Bye.”
Fuck.
None of this shit is good. I’m going to have to physically follow him now because there is no way for me to know where he’s going and why. Thankfully, I have tracking on his car and his regular cell phone, if he takes that with him.
Gathering all my shit, I watch him, waiting for him to leave so I can jump in my car and find his ass. I don’t want to be waiting at his place and then pull out. It’s too fucking suspicious. I need to meet up with him somewhere on the way, on the road.
Once I have all my things ready and my keys in my hand, I watch him. Samson walks out of his office, and I expect him to go through the living room and out the front door, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he slips out the back and goes the exact same way I did when I broke into the house a few nights ago.
