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Chapter 4
“How long willthey keep us waiting?” I asked again, and again I got no good answer.
“This is a classic power move,” Archer said. “My father does this shit all the time with clients.”
“Complete intimidation tactic,” Valen agreed. “Business 101, first thing they teach you at college.”
“Why do they want to intimidate me? They’re already scary as hell,” I whispered, leaning across Kingston to get closer to Archer. “Are you sure Lewis can’t be here with us? I could really use the reassurance.”
“He won’t touch this with a ten foot pole, remember how fast he ran from my place?” Archer replied. “I’m sorry, babe, I did ask him again and all the other partners, but nobody wants to take on your case.”
“I feel like an outcast,” I sighed and sat back on the seat.
We were being kept waiting in a typical waiting room. A wooden walled office that was suited for a high end, pricey lawyer, mob accountant, or maybe even a politician.
We were taking up four chairs along the wall, sleek black leather and chrome seats that were designed to make you sit upright in a way that didn’t offer any real comfort. Mine was starting to hurt my butt where I sat too long, its hard surface making me shift in frustrated anxiety and pain.
“Try to take a deep breath, Evie,” Kingston said, putting his arm around my shoulder to help calm me down. “Let it fill your lungs, pause, and exhale. It’s what I was taught to calm my nerves before hitting the field or stepping into the cage to fight.”
“I feel like fighting would be preferable,” I replied. “I wouldn’t mind having the chance to knock a few heads together.”
“Don’t tell them that,” Valen said. “We want you to appear intimidated and contrite. It will make it easier to convince them the shooting was an accidental discharge.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I’d never back down from owning my part in shooting Reg, but the door opened and a polished, older woman poked her head out to gesture at us. She was a sleek and stylish as the chairs and she fit in perfectly with the general vibe of the waiting room, full of authority and generally unfriendly. Not comforting at all.
“The organization will see you now,” she said with a slight smile on her lips. “Please, follow me.”
“Are they allowed to come with me?” I asked as I stood up. My boys were already to their feet, the three of them surrounding me as if their mere presence could protect me from the punishment I was surely about to receive.
“Of course, please, boys, follow me,” she said with a bigger smile this time. “Why Archer and Valen, I play golf with your mothers when they’re in town. How lovely to see you here with this one.”
Her disgust was palpable when she looked at me during the final part of her sentence. She clearly didn’t approve of me being there, nor did she approve of them trailing along behind me. I felt like unwelcome riff raff for not the first time in my life.
We stepped back through the door and walked down a wooden paneled hallway with thick blue carpeting and wide oak doors lining the way. Every one of them looked the same, and I wondered how the hell you didn’t get lost in a place like this.
The woman walked to the end of the corridor and opened a beautiful wooden door with an ornate metal handle and gestured for me to step through.
I did, and found myself in a boardroom of a sort. Like the kind you’d see in a movie, with the enormous table surrounded by chairs filled with old white men. Every single one of them was staring at me like they expected me to be drugged and served to them on a silver platter as the centerpiece to their meeting.
And so I glared at each and every one of them, wondering if they’d directed Reg on what to do, if they liked watching me helpless and unaware, or if they simply just enjoyed leering at me right now in person.
Probably all three, given the demographics.
I felt angry and helpless, so I kept glaring at them instead of doing what I wanted to do. Like screaming at them, attacking them, gouging their mocking eyeballs right out of their heads so they’d never have a chance to look at me again.
“Welcome, Tribute,” the old man at the head of the table told me and motioned towards an empty chair near his. “Please, have a seat. We have a lot to go over.”
I looked at the chair and noted there was only room for me at the table. I raised my eyebrow in an arch and said, “Not unless I have the Kings with me.”
Since we were all playing in the same alternate reality game, where Dirty Kingdom was the goal, I was the Tribute, the Organization ruled all, and my three boys were known as the Kings, they would know exactly what I was talking about.
The old man at the head of the table pursed his lips in an annoyed fashion, waved his hand dismissively, looked at the men near my chair, and said, “Yes, yes. You three, get the fuck out of here.”
They didn’t even protest, they jumped up and scuttled to the side to take chairs against the wall. They sat down like scolded school boys despite being obviously wealthy men on their own.
I was curious to know who the old man at the head of the table was, and how he wielded such power. And of course I wondered if he’d ever seen me naked on my bed. The thought of it both angered me and filled me with disgust.
I dropped my glare and kept my face impassive as I walked to the table. Kingston held my chair out for me, and waited for me to take a seat before he sat next to me. Archer sat next to him, and Valen at the end. I was closest to the old man at the head of the table, and I didn’t like it. I felt vulnerable, like I was exposed and offered up to the predator waiting for me.
