I clench my fists, needing the reminder of it all to dig into me as deep as my fingernails dig into my palm. I don’t care what Malcolm says, or what flash of pity I saw in him recently. He’s one of the bad guys. He’s hurt me. And my fucked up attraction to him is just that. Fucked up. It has to stop. I have to make it stop.
“I promise you, Ophelia,” Malcolm continues, jolting my attention back to him. “Things are about to change. The days of the Elites’ reign are numbered. They’re on thin ice. And when their little hierarchy starts to shift…you’ll see the real Emmett.”
Emmett’s angry snarling face flashes before my eyes. I have plenty of memories of him like that. Staring me down with pure rage and hatred. Saying terrible things to me. I can’t let myself believe that there’s anything more to him than that.
“We’re almost there,” he announces, pointing a finger over the steering wheel to an ominous looking vacant lot in the distance.
I gulp down a hard knot, unsure if I should be relieved or terrified. Either way, he claims this will be informative and good. So I try to hold on to that with any ounce of capability I have left to trust someone in Jameson.
16
Chapter Sixteen
Malcolm drives us to what looks like an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The parking lot is dark, lit up by only one streetlamp that rests near the large garage door entry. He flips a switch, causing the metal door to clatter as it rolls up.
I am certain I should be afraid of dying. This could be how I go. But Malcolm doesn’t seem threatening. His meager and slender build makes me think I could take him if it came down to it. But it doesn’t make him unattractive. He has creamy pale skin and long legs leading up to a well-chiseled narrow chest. His light sandy blonde hair is cut and styled into spikes, complimenting his pale blue eyes that seem kind.
It’s a shame I can’t be attracted to him instead. He’s shown me more kindness than anyone else around here, aside from Lily.
Or maybe my concept of kind has just shifted after enduring the torture of the Elites. In my book, he is still one of them by proxy after all, no matter what he says. Now it seems anyone who doesn’t instantly attack me seems nice in my book.
The inside of the warehouse is even darker, with only the moonlight shining through a large opening in the back to give me any clue as to where to step. Malcom places his arm through mine, startling me as my eyes dart to his in suspicion.
“I told you I’m not going to hurt you,” he assures me, nodding to his gentle, friendly touch.
“Sorry. I know,” I groan, letting him lead me. “I’m not used to someone being nice to me. Trying to help.” My mind drifts to Lily. I wonder if he knows how risky it is to be doing anything but treating me like shit. “In fact, you may want to be careful. The Elites tend to make anyone that helps me regret it. They may turn on you.”
“I’m not afraid of them. At least not in the way you think,” he huffs, guiding me toward a figure standing in front of a window so that all I can make out is the silhouette of what looks like an older man in a suit.
His tall slender legs mimic Malcolm’s build, but he has a much bigger gut jutting out from his suit jacket. I can see a glare across his balding head as he wipes his forehead with a handkerchief.
I look up to him nervously, hoping and praying I haven’t been duped yet again.
“Ophelia,” the man calls out. “Thank you for coming. Sorry to have to drag you out of the house so inconspicuously, but as I’m sure you’ve gathered by now…there are some dangerous forces at play around here.”
“Who are you?” I ask, squinting my eyes to try and make out his face.
“This is my father,” Malcolm explains. “Meet Liam Henderson.”
I have no idea what to think. What on earth could both Malcolm and his father want with me in this abandoned warehouse out in the middle of nowhere?
“Your father could not be present, but he says hello,” Liam adds, firing the synapses in my brain.
My father. Of course he wouldn’t bother actually showing his face, but at least he’s making some form of contact. It’s about damn time for how much trouble as he’s caused.
“Well, that’s a first,” I jeer in bewilderment. “I’ve never even met him.”
“I’m afraid this will have to be brief,” Liam continues, ignoring my bitterness. “We can only block the signal of the tracking device in your arm for so long.”
My eyes widen and glance toward my shoulder. I’m amazed that they can do something like that…and that they even know it’s there in the first place.
“How did you…”
“I’ll get straight to it,” he carries on after clearing his throat, cutting me off. I still can’t see his face as he stands in front of the backlit window. “Maybe you’re aware that I write code and create software for a living. The programs I’ve designed have been used by many fortune 500 companies for many different purposes. I’ve been very successful.”
“Yeah, Malcolm filled me in on some of that on the way over,” I nod, still confused as to what this has to do with me. Or my father.
“Unfortunately, the Jameson Automobile Corporation has been using my software to run extortion rings of politicians,” he continues with a disappointed sigh. “It’s also been modified to create a black market for underage girls. I’m sure a smart girl like you can understand why that’s big trouble for me.”