Page 172 of The Company

“It means you don’t need to worry about it. Now, let’s talk logistics, OK? I’m here. You’re here. We’re talking. The inevitable has been discussed. So even though you were scheduled to leave with me tomorrow, the helicopter is ready and waiting. So I think it’s better for you that we leave tonight. What do you think, Admiral?”

I turn around and find my father standing behind me. Smiling.

“Harper. I’m sorry I kept this from you. It would’ve probably saved thirteen lives had I just been upfront about who your promise was. But it was a difficult thing to consider. It was a difficult conversation to have.”

“But now you’re fine with me being given to some stranger?” I snap. “I’m just supposed to leave with him? Right now?”

“You already liked him as James, Harper. He is James, only better.”

“In what way? The way he talks down to me like I’m a baby? The way he gives me the chills that makes me want to avoid touching him? Or the way he—”

“That’s enough,” my father barks.

It stops me cold. I’ve lived with that shout my whole life. I can’t stop my immediate reaction to be quiet.

“That’s enough now. James is psychotic, Harper. He will kill you or he will get you killed. He’s not safe. He’s not family material. He’s not father material. We’ve dispatched a team to follow him and take him out. If they haven’t killed him yet, they will. Very soon. He’s as good as dead. So the sooner you accept the fact that Vincent is your promise, that Vincent is the man who loves you above all others, that Vincent will keep you safe, the sooner you can move into your new life.”

“What life? If I’m his property, then what life?”

“Children, Harper. Your job as a Company woman is to have children. And”—the Admiral looks over at Vincent and smiles—“Vincent says he’d like you to take part in his new role as well. See? He already loves and cares for you enough to consider the idea of letting you work.”

“Letting me—” I can’t think straight. “Children?” He has got to be joking. “Slaves, you mean? Like me? Daughters who will be sold off when they turn eighteen? Sons who will be given away to whomever to be turned into killers?”

“Your sons will not be killers, Harper. Don’t overreact. Your sons will be Company royalty.”

“Like Nick?” I scoff. “Who was taught to kill and taught me to kill?”

“Nick,” my father laughs. “Nick is not royalty, sweetie. You are not royalty. But your children, with Vincent’s blood mixed in, will be. You are the start of a new Company line. The two strongest families will be united after tonight and a new era of power will begin. We own everything, Harper. We have people in positions in every world government that matters. We run the US Senate and the next president will be a Company man, regardless of which party gets elected. We hold private utility companies, prisons, water treatment plants, hospitals, and millions of acres of farmland. We control everything but the hearts and minds of the people. And that comes next. You, Harper, along with Vincent, will capture their imaginations. The pretty girl with the handsome politician. The road to power, and your place in history, is my everlasting gift to you.”

Oh my God. It’s like he’s a villain in those comic books Nick and I used to read.

“Ready?” And then Vincent has me by the elbow. Not hard, still gentle. But it’s not even a question. It’s a foregone conclusion.

I let him lead me away, not knowing what else to do.

“Harper,” Vincent says as he leans down in my ear. “Do you want anything from your room?”

I consider this. I consider the phone. But the more I think about it, the less likely it is that the phone in my room is the phone I had from before. I probably fucked things up by trying to text James. “No, thank you,” I say, falling back on my manners to help me get through things.

My promised man wraps an arm around me and guides me over to the ladder that leads below deck. “I thought there was a helicopter?” But before the words are out of my mouth, I know there’s no helicopter waiting on this ship. It’s a fucking sailboat.

“Once we board my yacht we can take the helicopter to my home. Our home,” he amends. “It will be wonderful, you’ll see. And soon, Tet will be gone and you’ll never have to think of him again.”

He pulls a hoodie on over his head and then he slips his feet into a pair of gray canvas boat shoes and grabs my hand. We go down three floors and make our way to the garage. There are men there waiting for us. My body feels hot as I realize that they all knew I was coming aboard only so I could be given away. They probably love the fact that I’m being punished. I killed thirteen people, some of them crew. They probably hate me.

“Step carefully,” Vincent says as he holds his hand out to help me into the tender, but not ours. His.

I settle in the seat next to Vincent at his request and he puts his arm around me. “Are you cold, lionfish?”

“What did you just call me?” The nerve of him.

“Lionfish,” he says, nuzzling my ear as we take out into the darkness. “Remember I gave you that name on the beach? After you told me about touching the stingers?”

“I told that story to James, not you.”

“Baby,” he says as his hand slips between my legs and his mouth covers mine for the briefest of moments. “I am James. How do you not recognize me?”

I tilt my head up to say no, but his mouth is right there. It covers mine. His tongue slips in and tangles with me. His hands are busy rubbing my inner thighs and then his fingers slip right up to my panties.

I push him off and scoot away. “You’re not him,” I say, not very convincingly.

“Oh, but I am. And when we get home, we’re gonna have that talk about power all over again.”