A Harmless Little Game (Harmless #1)(8)

And the worst part?

Now there really is nowhere safe in the world for me.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Lindsay,” Anya whispers in my ear. “It’s been far too long. You’re welcome at my house any time. Let’s have dinner one night next week. And Jane would love to see you, too.”

Jane. I jolt, shivering like a spider runs up my spine. I haven’t seen Jane since the night she found me.

Broken, battered, bruised, bloodied...and still tied up with those three bright scarves.

“I’d like that,” I say evenly. “How is Jane?”

“Oh, she’s working for this new tech start-up,” Anya says brightly. “Got her degree in computer science. You know how she always had such an analytical mind? Now she’s using it.”

I give her one of those socially-appropriate smiles. It’s pure instinct, the corners of my mouth moving up in response to her facial expression and tone.

“That’s great.”

Daddy and Drew are conferring, heads together, voices low and monotonic. They’re like sonar in human form.

I’m on their radar, and they’re always tracking my mood.

“Senator Bosworth,” Anya says, all business suddenly, reaching for her stack of papers and whatnot, “we need to get to the lawn for the helicopter trip.”

Daddy looks like he’s just been handed a brand new shiny red bike for Christmas. His relief at being able to leave me makes those invisible hands on my throat tighten just enough to make me cough.

Drew holds up one finger in Anya’s direction, never taking his eyes off Daddy. “He’ll be there in a minute, Anya. You go ahead and get the crew ready.”

With a curt nod, she submits, then spins on one heel and leaves.

Drew’s ice-cold eyes make my heart restart, the hands loosening at my neck, my body expanding with the pounding of blood running in double time.

Before he can say a word, I mimic Anya, not giving him the pleasure of ordering me out of the room.





Chapter 7





“You’re demanding way too much from Lindsay.” I’m almost around the corner and into the living room when I hear Drew’s angry voice. I skitter to a halt, nearly pitching forward but grabbing the wall in time. He sounds like he’s ready to punch Daddy.

“I’m in charge here. I’m her father. I’ll decide what she can and cannot handle.”

I hold my breath. There were times in the Insight Center...er, mental institution...when I had a chance to overhear private conversations. The staff were so careful, but eventually people slipped up. Never Stacia. Never, ever, did Stacia make a mistake, but the lower-level counselors and nurses sometimes sat in small groups and quietly talked about the patients.

Talked about me.

Listening in on Daddy and Drew fighting about me is even more riveting than those snippets from the past.

“I thought I was in charge of Lindsay’s security,” Drew snaps. He makes no other sound. No sigh, no grunt, no nothing. He’s so self-contained. I can imagine his face, eyes hooded and fierce. I can see my dad in my mind’s eye, too. Blank face, burning eyes, and the body language of a dangerously powerful man who can squash you like a bug.

I know I’m right. If I peek around the corner, I’ll confirm I’m right.

My heart slaps against my ribs like someone playing a bongo drum. The erratic rhythm fills my ears. Blood rushes to the surface of my skin like angry bees, and swoon.

“I thought so, too,” Daddy snaps back. “And part of your job involved determining whether she was ready.”

Ready for what?

“She’s been more than ready. Four f*cking years, Harry.” Drew’s voice drops to the kind of hiss reserved to brutal contempt. It’s the voice you use with someone when you have nothing left to lose.

It’s starting to occur to me that maybe Drew isn’t just here for the paycheck, after all. If I had any illusions that he and Daddy have been best buddies while I’ve been gone, they just disappeared.

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me,” Daddy answers. He doesn’t correct Drew on using his first name, though.

“You know you’ve been having her drugged up to keep her quiet.”

“I’ve done no such thing.” Daddy’s voice detours from his calm, cold focus. He sounds slightly panicky, which makes my stomach turn numb, electric shocks radiating out from my navel.

What? What? Daddy never, ever sounds like this. Senator Harwell Bosworth doesn’t do panic.

“What Monica and I have done, as Lindsay’s parents, is to consult with the medical and psychiatric experts to make sure she receives the best transitional care possible so she can re-assimilate into daily life,” he adds. By the time he’s done, he’s back in control.

My heart beat isn’t, though.

“And that included being drugged with enough sedatives to kill a baby elephant for nearly three years?” Drew’s voice is so calm it’s like they’re talking about the weather, or the Kentucky Derby, or a sale at Brooks Brothers.

It chills me to the marrow.

Because I know, and Daddy knows, that every word coming out of my ex-boyfriend’s mouth is deep truth.

“Is that what they told you at the island?” Daddy’s laugh is harsh, coarse, like sandpaper meant to rub up against your skin and make you bleed slowly. “I knew it was a mistake to give you access to Lindsay’s medical records.”