“He owns Surface Solutions,” I say. “I know who he is.”
Surface Solutions is a national technology company and one of Everett Enterprises’ only true competitors. Especially on the West Coast, they have a lot of claim to a lot of business. Likemy father, Edwin hasn’t had a squeaky-clean record. He got accused a few years ago of some bad business deals, not paying some employees, falling through with some contractors. But like Cato, he seemingly never found a problem he couldn’t solve by throwing money at it.
Until tonight.
For most of my life, all we ever heard was how Edwin was our mortal enemy. “The biggest threat to our growth,” as my dad used to call him. But judging by the way my dad is pouring him a drink and laughing at his stupid fucking jokes, it appears he’s taking his own sound advice: if you can’t beat ‘em, buy ‘em.
“I can’t believe this,” Keaton whispers, watching in awe. Larry sits on a chair, Cato on another, and offers Edwin the couch between them. Wren is out of frame but shows up with two drinks, setting one down in front of Edwin and one in front of Cato like she’s their fucking servant.
“Larry can get his own drink, Wren,” Cato says. “Join us. There is some room next to Edwin.”
The look on her face makes me want to break out of this room and run straight down the fucking hallway. I know she’s terrified. But she sits anyway, forcing a smile.
She’s scared, but she’s doing it anyway.
My brave girl.Just a little longer, baby.
For the next few minutes, they laugh and talk, Edwin telling boring story after boring story about his college baseball days, how he built Surface from the ground up, and how he can still bench press over three hundred pounds.
Wren barely gets a word in edgewise, but she keeps his glass full and laughs at all the right moments. I grit my teeth together as I watch him place a hand on her knee.
“Come on, fuckers,” I say, my stomach churning.
Just then, Larry stands.
“Alright,” he says. “I’m going to head to my room. Cato, will you be staying?”
Cato has a weird expression on his face. He and Larry seem to be communicating with their eyes. And as I watch my father and know what he’s about to do, I realize that I never really knew how dark he was. I always felt hints of it, but I suddenly feel shame at how much I was oblivious to.
“Ahh, already?” Edwin says, his speech starting to slur a little. “I thought we were going to have some fun, eh?”
“Of course, Edwin,” Cato says, standing up. He walks over to the minibar, which is right in front of the camera X set up. Having him this close makes me sick. He makes another drink, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring it into a glass. But when he sets the bottle back down, he puts it directly in front of the camera.
“What the fuck?” I ask.
X is hitting a button, then another, trying to zoom out to be able to see around the bottle. But now it’s no use.
“What do we do, X? What now?” I ask.
He sighs, rubbing a hand behind his head.
“Now, we listen,” he says, turning up the speaker and handing us headphones. “All we have now is sound. No visual. Everyone, listen for cues, signs of distress.”
Signs of distress?
This whole fucking situation is a sign of distress.
I want to panic. Scream. Kick. Punch a wall. But instead, I sit my ass down and listen intently, trying desperately to hear everything that’s going on.
“What kind of fun were you looking for, Ed?” I hear Cato’s booming voice ask. There’s a pause then a symphony of booming laughs. What the fuck are they laughing at? “Ah, yes. Wren here is an excellent employee. She’s been a great new addition to our company.”
“I’d love to put my face between those additions, ya know what I mean?” Edwin says, and I feel my blood boiling in my veins.
“Easy, B. We’re almost there,” Julian says, gripping my shoulder.
I hear her fake a laugh, and I swallow.
“She’s veryeagerto do a good job for me, aren’t you, Wren?” Cato asks, and my fists are clenched at my sides.
