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The most fucked-up part is that I want to say more. Just keep telling her everything.
It has to be brain damage. The concussion must have been worse than anyone realized. Because I can’t seem to shut up, and I can’t help but feeling like keeping her with me is a massive risk.
I do need risks. The underground fights are an example of that.
But putting myself on the line in business is like money, or a well-decorated apartment, or tailored clothes counts, too. The calculated risks I took at Summit were part of what kept the world safe fromme.
My father beat the need for adrenaline and violence into my bones. It has to come out somewhere, or else my head will explode. It took high-stakes investments at Summit, fights at the warehouse,andone-night stands to feel within spitting distance of normal.
It’s been less than a month without those things, and I’m fucking Bristol over the copy machine and biting bruises into her skin.
Fine. I’d do that anyway. But every day, my skin feels tighter. The massive Hughes Industries headquarters building feels suffocating. Eventually, I’ll do something drastic and fuck everything up. That’s just how it goes. The real Will Leblanc will come out.
And if Bristol’s safe, too, how long before I blow it up?
You could let her help you,Emerson’s voice points out.You feel better when she’s there.
Sure. I could let her help me. I could ask her to be my girlfriend and have a little family with her. I could deserve that.
Yes. That’s what I’m saying.
“That was sarcasm.”
“I didn’t catch that, Mr. Hughes,” Candy says.
I stand up from behind my desk. “I’m going upstairs.”
Candy winks at me on my way out. “Enjoy the party.”
It’s upstairs in one of the reception rooms on the executive level. The elevator doors open to let me out, and I follow the hum of conversation to the party. Two-story windows reveal the city beneath a traditional chandelier. A ballroom sits in the heart of their office building, as nice as any Four Seasons. Discreet flower arrangements and a large cake with blue paisley designs completes the decor.
Time to go through the motions. I shake hands. Exchange pleasantries. Chat with Greg. I’d rather be with Bristol, but as long as I’m here, maybe I can get a minute of Daniel Hughes’s time. I’m not going to bring the fight to him. He’s retiring, and any of my issues are well below his level. But I’d like to get the measure of the man who built this corporate monstrosity that I regret joining.
Not because it’s bad. Because it’s safe. It’s too big to fail.
I’m destined to self-destruct inside it, and when I have, it’ll spit me out.
More people filter in, and the volume rises slightly. The party’s officially started.
Right on time, Finn arrives with his dad.
Daniel Hughes looks—
Old.
Too old, in a strange way. The man’s in his fifties, but he seems like he’s working overtime to hide that he’s unsteady on his feet. With Finn standing next to him, the difference is stark. I glance around at everybody else. They’re either not surprised by his condition, or they’re hiding it well.
When they’re across the threshold and fully inside the room, everyone claps.
Daniel Hughes blinks, smiling a beat too late. He lifts his hands. They’re shaking. Nerves? “Please. That’s enough. Thank you, everyone. You’re the ones who make this possible.”
Finn stands close to his dad, a hand on his arm. When he speaks, his voice is different from the way it was at our meeting. Another persona entirely. His cadence is slower. Who is he doing that for? It has to be his dad. “My father, Daniel Hughes, is the reason we’re here. The work we’ve done at Hughes Industries has changed lives all over the world, but…”
Daniel smiles through his speech, a hint of bemusement on his face, as if he’s not sure why everyone went to the trouble. An executive steps forward and presents Hughes Senior with a gift in a small velvet box. He’s young for the position, but he has a good reputation.
The CEO’s handsareshaking. What’s going on with him?
Finn’s finishing his speech. “Something to remember us by,” he says, and applause fills the room.
