Grumpy Boss

“Help me?” He laughed, tossing his head back. “Like all those girls you helped murder? Come on Rees. We both know what you are.” He looked at me, took a step closer. “A dark assassin for the underworld.”

“Des,” I said, shaking my head. “You know I just run businesses. You remember, right? We worked together for a while.”

“Until you stole from me,” he snapped, took another drink, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I remember that, all right.”

“Why have you been spreading rumors about me?” I asked.

“Because someone needs to stop you,” he said, grinning huge, showing all his teeth. “Someone needs to bring you down. No more killings, no more assassinations. The world will know the truth.” He spread his arms out and laughed.

That was enough. I stopped recording and put my phone away. He grinned at me and slowly dropped his arms to his side, and the silence stretched between us packed with years and failures and all the wrong turns we’d both taken0—and someone he’d led himself to this place, this rock bottom, this hole.

“I’m going to leave now,” I said, “and we probably won’t see each other again.”

“Good,” he said, nodding a little, and took another drink. “Someone’s got to stop you. That’s good.”

“Bye, Des.” I turned and took Millie’s hand. She looked at me with pure sadness and pity, but I didn’t want that from her—Desmond needed it much more than I did.

I felt free.

“Rees,” he said, and I looked back at him. He put the bottle down, frowning a little at the floor, then met my gaze. “We built something back then, didn’t we? Something decent?”

“Yeah, we did,” I said.

He nodded slowly and I thought I caught another glimpse of the old version of him, before all this—but then it was gone again. “Get out of here and take that devil with you. Go on, get out, before I do something stupid.”

I tugged Millie along with me, back through the dingy living room, out the door, down the sagging steps, and into the rented car. Des appeared and slammed the door shut behind us, and the house went quiet, swallowing up what was hiding inside again.

We didn’t speak. I stared at my hands on the steering wheel, and a mix of emotions swirled through me so fast I wasn’t sure which one would win out. Millie leaned over, hand on my leg, and kissed my neck, and hugged me, and I hugged her back—then laughed.

I couldn’t help it. That wasn’t funny. Seeing Desmond wrecked and barely holding on was horrible, and I was going to find someone that would help him—I had plenty of resources, and I could afford it. Even if he tried to destroy me, I had a feeling he only did it because he had finally lost whatever tenuous grip he had on reality, and was spiraling out of control. I laughed because I felt unburdened, like finally I could move on with my life, because Desmond wasn’t some horrible, powerful force stalking me from the shadows—he was a man that was barely holding himself together, drunk out of his mind, sliding into delusions and insanity.

He needed pity and help. And I’d give that to him.

But I’d also use that video to my advantage.

I grinned at Millie as I pulled away then touched her face. She smiled back, looking uncertain. I couldn’t blame her—that was disturbing, what we saw in there. “Are you okay?” I asked her.

She let out a hard breath and shook her head. “I’m fine, but I’ sort of wondering if you are.”

“I’m fine,” I said, nodding, and kissed her. “I’m very fine. Look, I have what I came here for. I have proof that Desmond’s behind all of this, and that he can’t be trusted, and I got new investors. We’re going to be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” She sounded one edge still, but I knew it was over, truly over, at long last.

“Trust me,” I said, and kissed her again. “I’m going to get him some help, and I’m going to dig us out of this hole. Can you trust me?”

“Of course,” she said, and I knew she meant it despite everything. I was glad she came with me, even if that scene inside had been horrifying, a truly deep, black pit of human suffering, the sort of fate I didn’t wish on anyone. I was glad she could be here with me, because despite everything, despite losing friends and business partners, I gained her.

That was better than anything else.

“Let’s go home,” I said, and started the engine. “I’ve got a press conference to put on.”

She chewed her lip but smiled and leaned back in her seat as I pulled into traffic, eyes clear, looking forward to the future.

23

Millie

The conference room on the ground floor of Rees’s business complex was packed with reporters and other prominent members of the investing community. Lady Fluke sat in the back, arms crossed over her chest, with Modesto at her side, a big, silver crucifix hanging around his neck. I peered at them from behind a curtain separating the small backstage from the rest of the room. The podium stood in blinding light, and a large screen was pulled down to the side of it.