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I can’t get my finger to the paper fast enough to point to the fine print. I fucking read every word this time. “Jack Montgomery is to playnopart in parental decisions around the upbringing of Kira Grant’s child.”
He shrugs and scrunches his face on one side. “Yeah, but if you’re in prison, I’d look like the lesser of two evils. I’ve raised several successful men, and I have ample means to support the child. My lawyers could swing it.”
“So I just have to live alone, raising a kid I hopefully don’t hate — whom I could kill if I—”
“Would you, though?” Jack asks, wrinkling his nose. “I mean, even if you hated my spawn, I don’t think you’d have it in you to kill it, and I might just fuck another kid into you. Let’s not forget clause thirteen, Section A, Part D. It clearly states you’re to be the vessel and long-term guardian of Quintus’s punishment and love repellent. You were distracting him, but I’ve made it so he won’t be able to look at you without disgust. That’s really the best part. Don’t you think?”
“You won’t appreciate what I think,” I reply coolly, hoping Quin would never feel that way, but knowing our tainted love makes it a possibility. “What if some of us die of natural causes? Hypothetically speaking.”
Jack considers me for a long time. “You won’t want that either. Best behave yourself and try your hardest to keep everyone alive.”
He sets his pen next to the contract. “Sign it and go. You were a means to an end, and I’m tired of you. Stay any longer, and I’ll assume it’s because you need my cock again. Is that what you want, young lady?”
I pick up the pen and sign immediately.
“I thought not,” he says with a smile. “It’s been a pleasure, doing business with you, Kira.”
I push up from my chair and walk to the door. “I can’t say the same, asshole.”
“Ten feet,” he calls as I leave his office. “Works the same way if it’s you, who takes a step too far. Be mindful where you tread, dearest. Keep Number Twelve nice and safe for me.”
HOW IT WILL END…
15
QUIN
My son wants a treehouse, and I’m going to make sure he gets it.
I stare at my father’s office door, revising my approach before I knock.
Which path will grant me permission to spend time with Curty and be closer to Kira? And how can I use it to my benefit, without triggering a punishment I won’t enjoy? I much prefer the punishments that come with an unexpectedly delightful payoff.
I’ve been my father’s reluctant office bitch since Kira left, and not one day has been without its battles, but sometimes, I get a win.
About eight years ago, I was reportedlyinsolent,and ever since, I’ve been forced to sit outside Kira’s house once a week with Lucius, so I canwatch her living happily without me. After a few weeks of observations, I learned to serve my time on Tuesdays. Kira puts her garbage out the night before collection, and going through it gives me extra insights into their life.
There’s always a hoop to jump through, but if I angle my attempt just right, I can get what I want without Jack even realizing it. Today, I want permission to build Curty’s treehouse, and I want Jack to think I’ll hate it. Should be simple enough.
Last week I made him sentence me to a two-day time-out, during which I got to stay in a room by myself and just sleep and think and plot the next steps of his demise. The door was locked from the outside, so I didn’t have to tether myself to the bed for the night, like I usually would, to keep from sleepwalking over to Kira’s neighborhood and accidentally killing her. The chronic rubbing marks on my ankle even had a chance to heal a little. It was actually a relaxing and joyful holiday.
I can do this. I have to keep my very real fucking excitement from sneaking past my practiced submissive façade, but I can do it.
Each interaction with Jack requires tactical restraint, but being forced to do his bidding for years means I’ve been schooled in the art and science of manipulation, and this is just another day at the fucking zoo. Jack will predictably choose whichever option he deems will make me most miserable, and I always have a few of those to offer.
I knock twice.
Eventually, I’m summoned inward, and I wait one foot inside the door.
“What is it? The Dramadus shipment?” he asks, not looking up from his laptop.
“No sir. Everything is scheduled and unfolding according to plan, so long as Starsky doesn’t fold — which he won’t, if he wants to see his kid again, right? The police will be notified upon the container’s arrival, his partner will be stitched up, and competitively priced bids on their affiliate assets will begin within the hour. I told you this yesterday. Sent you the sales agreements for pre-signing, to save time and everything.”
Jack looks up. “No, you didn’t.”
I roll my eyes and march to his in-tray. “Is your memory playing up again? Are you getting too old, to run this fucking sideshow? Because Cy—”
“You leave Cyrus the fuck out of this. He’s shown his true colors, and his access has been cut from the approvals team. He practically kidnapped my daughter, and now she won’t even talk to me.”
