Relinquish(55)

I laugh. “No, quite the opposite actually. I’m just talking about those old couples who sit on the porch and hold hands throughout the day. Or a husband who sits by his wife’s grave day after day after losing her from some terrible incident. They don’t need to f*ck. They care about each other. They love each other.”

Landon worries his bottom lip between his teeth as he sucks in a breath. His eyes narrow in a way I’ve never seen before. Almost like he’s confused, yet intrigued.

“Well, I’ve never seen it.”





SIXTEEN


LANDON


I pour myself another scotch and sit in my chair. I’m… confused, but that word doesn’t even come close to what I’m feeling. Tormented, depraved, outraged. I feel insane from all the mixed emotions cocooning themselves in my head and chest.

“Do you know what Father and Veronica were just talking about?” Roman flies through my office door, his hair disheveled and, of course, his shirt is untucked.

“No, what?” I ask, uninterested, but I know he’s going to tell me anyway. Might as well amuse him.

“You and Charlie. Father says you’re taking interest in this escort and he doesn’t like it. Veronica said it was all Charlie, that she’s some whore seeking love. I-I—” Roman stutters, pacing my floors frantically. Roman is afraid of our father. Miller was a very powerful man at one time, well-respected around Vegas. I once was scared, too, but then I grew up and realized my father is just some old man. He’s served his term and is dead-weight now.

“Let them believe whatever they want. Harron shouldn’t have touched Charlie. I was doing my job,” I defend, downing the rest of my drink. There are cameras in a few places of the estate, one being the dining room with all the fine china we have in there. I saw how he was talking to her, and it was pissing me off. But when the hall cameras showed Harron grabbing onto her like that, I lost all control.

“You f*cking punched him, Landon. Are you kidding me right now?”

I swirl my drink, lost in the amber color.

“Are you listening to me?” Roman slams his hands on my desk, grabbing my attention and angering me. I set my drink down and clench my jaw.

“You tell Father that I was doing my job, which is protecting the escorts. The women come first. If it weren’t for them, this place wouldn’t be here,” I seethe, my teeth gritted. When my father was sitting in this chair, the simple principle of making the women come first was never in his line of sight. I aim to redeem that.

Roman chuckles, the sound of his laugh a mockery to my anger.

“Have you given her any clients?” Roman crosses his arms and stares at me.

“She’s in training.” I exhale an irritated breath.

“You should be working her a list of potential clients.” Roman runs his hand through his hair and chuckles.

“She’s not ready,” I reply.

“She looks ready, Landon,” Roman insists, nodding for emphasis.

“I’ve seen girls come through here for years, Roman. They all have this dead look to them, their eyes don’t shine, and their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes. They’ll do anything you ask of them, and don’t react in any way to the manner you speak to them.”

“But?” Roman interrupts. I take my eyes from my empty scotch glass and look at Roman.

“But when I look at Charlie, really look at her, she’s not quite dead inside.”

“You better get her there, and quick. I destroyed the files of the men Father had follow you. Nobody will be able to place Charlie. But Landon, I can only do so much before you blow your own f*cking house down.” Roman shakes his head and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

I let out a large breath and turn in my chair, looking out at the landscaping. It could be said that I hate my father. I didn’t always hate him, though. Leaving my mother to die alone was the turning point in our father/son relationship. He was shitty to my mother for years before that, but nothing compared to him deserting her when she needed him the most. She was diagnosed with aggressive cancer five years ago, and because he couldn’t bear her chemo, to watch her body die a little day by day, he sent her to California. Put her in a house with some doctors to die alone. I visited every weekend, but it was only Roman and I who ever went to see her.

Two weeks after my mother’s funeral, my father moved Tara in with her slutty daughter Veronica. He met Tara at a fundraiser for cancer, funny enough. Disgust builds in my chest thinking about how he banked off my mother’s illness, when in reality he was wishing she’d just die already. My mother passed away not long after her diagnosis.

I haven’t left this estate because of a promise I gave my mother, and Charlie stands in the way of that promise. It’s conflicting. I want Charlie, but I can’t break my only promise to my mother. I need to get Charlie clients, and it’s going to kill what’s left of me to do so.





CHARLIE


I slip out of bed and tiptoe toward my door. It’s late and everyone should be asleep by now, giving me the perfect opportunity to find some answers. I open my door and slowly close it, hoping not to make any noise. I look up and down the hall before I resume my mission toward Landon’s office. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I need something. Every expensive painting, every closed door, it all leads to secrets. I can feel it.