Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
That’s true. Simon would understand. He has to have a fucking heart. Although, given some of the shit Ryan told me, I have to wonder.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I tell her.
We chat some more before I hang up, guilt gnawing at me as daymares seize control of my thoughts, reminding me of the nightmares I had when she first got sick; when the chemo was so severe, some days I wondered if I’d walk into her room and find her stiff in bed, not breathing, her eyes wide open.
When I head to my meeting with Simon, I’m determined to work this out. There must be a way that I can see her, just for a bit. If anything were to happen to her and I wasn’t with her, I couldn’t fucking live with myself.
And I must convince him that Ryan and I are doing exactly what he wants.
As I open the office door, the creak offers what seems like an ominous warning.
“Good afternoon, Jonas,” Simon says from the sofa in front of the bay window, without looking up. His laptop rests on a lap desk as he keys away. Not for the first time, I wonder if he’s really doing anything important or if this is all a production. Is everything he does just part of this sick performance art he’s crafting for Ryan?
As I wait for him to pull himself away from his work, I interlock my hands behind my back; it’s something I didn’t even think about, but now as I stand before him, I feel like a soldier awaiting his commander’s orders.
I force my hands at my sides, and his typing slows to a point where the silence between us drags on at an unbearably glacial pace, made worse by the fact that I have something urgent to talk to him about.
“Simon—”
He raises a finger. “One moment.”
Of fucking course.
The suspense makes me so on edge, sweat beads across my forehead.
“There we are,” he says as he stops typing. He rises to his feet, his laptop in his hand so the screen flashes toward me for a moment, and I can see a paused image of what looks like night vision security footage from Ryan’s bedroom. Ryan’s on his knees as I bottom for him, and I assume that must’ve been early last night.
Simon glances at me like he’s gauging my reaction, and despite a surge of rage that pulses through me at this violation of our privacy, I keep my cool. Like I would if this was still just a job for me.
Simon heads to his desk and sets his laptop down before approaching me. “Now, you were going to say something? Is it about your sister? Is everything okay there?”
After everything I’ve seen from Simon, I shouldn’t be surprised.
“She caught a virus, and with the chemo…that can really tear a person down. And I feel good about where I’m at with Ryan, so maybe in a few days, when she shakes this, I could head up to New York? Just to check in. It doesn’t have to be for long.”
I’m fucking rambling, showing my desperation, though I’m hoping if he sees how much I need this, the part of him that’s still fucking human will do the right thing.
His expression is stoic. Difficult to read. He winces before saying, “I don’t know that I can make time for that. Not when you’re making this much progress.”
“Maybe the time away will make him miss me more.”
A smile plays across his lips. “Jonas, I understand that your sister matters to you. That’s why I made you the initial offer. But I also assumed her journey would be a rough one, and that I’d be able to rely on you even through those difficult times. Oh, but let me think…let me think… I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of monster.” He lets those words hang in the air before he says, “But…”
Now I know, whatever he’s about to say, it doesn’t matter. He’s already made up his mind. And it’s not going to involve me making a trip to see my sister. My heart sinks.
“The payment I offered is contingent upon your loyalty to me throughout this work. Surely you understand that, by being here and doing this with me, you’re helping her more than you possibly could in person.”
That I can’t deny, but it doesn’t change the absurdity of it all. Because no matter what he fucking says, I know this is little more than a power play, like everything else revolving around Simon Hawthorne.
“Your loyalty is very important to me, Jonas, and I need you to prove that you’re loyal now. You’ve been doing a very good job. Very convincing work.” He studies my face.
Is it as I feared? Does he worry I’ve been doing too good a job? Could he be wondering if maybe this isn’t as much of an act anymore?