Page 58 of Intrepid

At a quick glance around, no doubt checking to make sure no one had heard my tantrum, he leaned in. “Your little nursemaid act may have triggered something. I’m acting on behalf of your safety. Now, unless you’d like to be yanked right out of this school and thrown back under my constant surveillance, you’ll stay away from her.”

I’d have rather died than be locked away in his prison again.

His face blurred, and I cast my gaze away to keep him from seeing the tears itching to fall. I wouldn’t dare give him the smug satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to me.

My jaw throbbed with the clenching of my teeth, and I wanted so badly to run from that restaurant and vow never to see him again. “What. Trigger?” I managed to grit out without letting the tears touch my voice.

“At the moment, it only concerns me, but I anticipate, if this goes on any longer, you may be at risk. Understand, this is for your safety.”

I doubted that. I doubted the man ever made a single decision in my life that took my safety into account. “Can you …. Can you at least give her this month?”

Of course, I had no intentions of following his orders, but I needed time to figure something out for both Lilia and Jo. I should’ve known the meeting with him would end that way. I’d have sooner frolicked through a warzone, for all the tension and anxiety brimming inside of me right then.

“This month only. After that, you’re to do as I said and leave this alone. Am I clear?”

I double-blinked and the tears in my eyes fell down my cheeks. With a swift hand, I wiped them away and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

A trill chime broke into the conversation, and my gaze shot to his phone beside him, where Tesarik flashed across the screen. A client of his, I suspected.

He swiped up the phone, but dropped it with a clang against the table, rattling his silverware, and I frowned at his fumbling, as he set his napkin on his food instead of beside his plate. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, pushing up from the table.

Strange. The man could’ve given the Queen of England a lesson on composure, yet he strode off like a bumbling idiot. Like whoever Tesarik happened to be made him edgy.

I stared after my father, wondering how a man so bland and colorless could hold so much power. If he were a painting, he’d be an array of grays, with graying hair and dull, lifeless eyes, like an old discarded doll that I wanted to tear apart at the seams until the stuffing popped out all over the floor.

Nice, Sera.

That almost sounded as bad as a man tossing someone into a wood chipper.

But even if I didn’t have the heart, or the balls, to do something so horrific, I still hated Karl Kutscher.

Truly and unequivocally hated him.

20

Jameson

Nine years ago …

Cold metal grates pressed into my cheek, as I lay on my side, the muscles in my stomach clenching with the shivers that wracked my body. They’d placed me in the same small box in the middle of the room, where Eli’d been caged, only I was fully clothed and no one had touched me that way. Not yet, anyway. I’d been given a daily dose of something that made me sleep, mostly. At least, I thought I was sleeping. Every day, maybe every few hours, I couldn’t tell, Gideon and Fox would hold me down and shove a needle into my arm. At first, I fought them, but after a while, I welcomed the sleep, because I didn’t think of Eli when I blacked out.

Sometimes, I’d see things and hear things that weren’t there. Like my father’s voice calling out to me, telling me I was safe.

Other times, I’d hear foreign voices, ones I didn’t recognize, talking about me. Sometimes, they asked me questions. Couldn’t remember if I’d answered. Maybe I did on occasion, because it seemed like they’d ask me more questions. So many questions, my head ached from all the noise. The beeping. The low hum of chatter.

There were too many voices right then, crowded around me, talking as if they didn’t see me in the cage. I slammed my hand against the bars to make noise, to break their conversations, but they didn’t hear me.

Just kept talking.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Whatever they’d given me had taken away my voice. My tongue? Did they cut out my tongue like Eli’s?

Their conversation was clear, and my mind conjured the image of a glass of water, filled halfway. I was floating inside the glass, pressed to the edge, listening to their words, amplified in my ears as though I’d been submerged underwater.

“His urine tested positive for barbiturates, which effectively placed him into a medical coma.” The disembodied voice pounded inside my ears.

A noise finally leaked from my lips, a loud and horrible sound, with a razor edge of pain, and someone reached inside the cage, gripping my shoulders.

“Jamie! Jamie, calm down!”