Fucking great, now I was thinking about Cleo again.
I was so fucking ready to see her, I just knew she'd follow me and think I didn't know.
"Yeah, so nice to see you didn't forget my birthday." I forced a smile at him, taking a seat on the leather armchair and straightening the floral black and white shirt I was wearing.
"Never, I'm sorry I wasn't here to party." His green eyes focused on mine again. "I heard about Mark... tragic, right? Wasn't he on your list? You better take it seriously, I already have 200k transferred to my account and it's only a down payment."
"That's a lot of money for a job that isn't even completed. "I furrowed my eyebrows, this whole shit just kept making less and less sense.
Cleo couldn't be behind this, she wouldn't spend that amount of money just to get to me. There were easier ways, I mean, it wasn't like we were hiding from each other.
Also, the fact my father didn't know I was the one who killed Mark was even more satisfying because it meant my plan worked and paying off the securities was the best idea I had.
"Yeah, I don't know the other names very well, I just heard about them at one point but I honestly don't care." My father sighed. "Do your job, don't leave a mess behind. You know the drill."
"Yes, sir." I hoped he could hear the dry sarcasm in my voice, I couldn't help it.
I didn't fucking care about the names either, my attention was solely focused on Cleo now she'd have it her way her, I was fucking done letting her win.
"Is Zayn joining you?" He asked me with that suggestive look in his eyes, the way he always did whenever Zayn's name was mentioned.
My father was a fucking asshole, he really thought I didn't know he was a homophobic piece of shit.
"No, he's not. But maybe I should bring him along, no one sucks my cock like he does." I clicked my tongue, standing up with a small smile. My father's face turned red and he let go of the papers he was holding, near popping a blood vessel.
Yes, I liked this way too much there was nothing he could do about who I decided to fuck, he was too ashamed to even mention my name to his friends sometimes.
I didn't mind .. they still knew who I was and just how much they should fear me. "What happened to your hand?" He suddenly asked, arching his eyebrows as if he had only actually looked at me and analyzed how I looked.
I had some faded bruises on my face, nothing too perceptible. The worst was the stab wound, but he couldn't see that.
"Cut myself." I shrugged, and he didn't say anything else because this wasn't something rare to happen. And it was never by accident, sometimes I just got too carried away during sex or simply because I was a clumsy drunk. "Anything I should know from this client you went to meet in Turkey? I have a long trip ahead of me today."
"Nothing that concerns you, son. Thank you for stopping by to see me, I feel special." He winked, standing up from his chair and stretching his arms. "God, time zones are a bitch. Are you leaving now?"
Wasn't that a nice way to tell me to fuck off? He had such a way with words.
I knew he never told me much about his businesses, mostly because I never asked or showed interest, but now my paranoid brain was thinking that everything was about Cleo.
"I'm leaving now, I'll be gone for a few days because of this job." I cleared my throat, grabbing my sunglasses from my pocket sol could put them on. "Don't call me."
"Good luck, son." He smiled, patting my back a bit too hard and I clenched my jaw again, stepping away from him. "Did I miss anything while I was gone?"
Just that Cleo Horan is magically back in my life and she's probably scheming something to get me killed or worse, and she also stabbed me two fucking times and managed to get away with it oh, and let's not forget she gave me a really fucking good lap dance that was making me sexually frustrated ever since. Plus, I was on my way to most likely torture and kill her.
Yes, just fantastic.
"Nothing happened." I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Just wanted to stop by before hitting the road."
"Have a safe trip then." He narrowed his eyes at me, turning around and making his way to his desk again, instantly getting too busy looking at his papers to even pay attention to me as I walked out of the door.
My father was always a trigger of bad memories to me, because I couldn't stop thinking about my mother whenever I looked at him. I thought about when things were simple and I actually felt happy.
I had no idea what that was anymore, I was just existing.
But as I made my way out of his apartment, I forced myself to push away every thought about my mother or my life. I repressed the urge to slam the door behind me and I got into the elevator, feeling claustrophobic already just by spending these few minutes with my father, but it was much better than having him in my own house.
My Tesla was parked in front of the building and I ignored the people around me as I made my way into the car. I hated this about New York: there were just too many people sometimes.
I turned on my GPS once I was safely inside and I appreciated my tinted windows very much, I knew no one could see anything from the outside. I removed the gun that was tucked in the back of my jeans and I placed it on the passenger's seat before I drove off, pushing my sunglasses back to hold my curls.
I'd brought enough ammunition and also a few knives in one of the two bags on my backseat, and I was ready for whatever was coming my way, especially a little blonde something.
I had two other guns packed and I felt really fucking eager.
I drove a bit faster, following the GPS route sol wouldn't get lost because I was shit with directions, and when I glanced at the rearview mirror, the first thing I noticed was the black SUV right behind me.
The license plate has a few numbers scraped off and I was too familiar with this, I knew the car was following me. The windows were tinted just like mine so I couldn't see who was driving. Was it Cleo? Her mother?
Before I could think anymore about it, the car suddenly made a turn and I lost it as it headed in a different direction.
Well, fuck paranoid was an understatement.
I was losing my mind.
I had five hours inside this fucking car, completely alone with my thoughts I should've thought about this before.
I flexed my ring-clad fingers on the steering wheel before I decided to turn on the radio, just when the perfect song came on. I had to laugh at the irony, Psycho Killer by Talking Heads was a classic. The lyrics said it all.
I can't seem to face up to the facts I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire Don't touch me I'm a real live wire
