Touch (Denazen #1)(43)

He stopped and it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for confirmation. I nodded.

“Denazen takes its training very seriously. You will be asked to do things you don’t want to do. Things that will make you uncomfortable. All these things are for the greater good.”

Greater good? Was he seriously trying to sell the nobility angle to me?

“There is no option to walk away. Once you start forward, there is no going back. Do you understand me?”

The elevator stopped, and I gave a nervous giggle as the doors opened. I guess that meant there’d be no going easy on the boss’ daughter. “So it’s a lot like the mob, then?”

He wasn’t laughing.

I cleared my throat. “I understand this won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

Another nod and he stepped out of the elevator. I followed. Dad signed in as Hannah watched, eyes glued to his every movement like he was the second coming. After Dad was done, she pushed the clipboard to me. Today, I had to sign, too. Without a word to Hannah—or me—he started to the next set of elevators.

“You will be spending the day on level six with our acquisitions interviewer, Mercy. She will interview you and explain things.”

“Interview? I thought I already had the job?” Which is funny because I didn’t know exactly what job I had. Technically, I’d said I wanted to work for Denazen. I never said what I wanted to do for them. Or if there’d be money involved.

“It’s not the kind of interview you’re thinking. All Denazen employees are interviewed on a monthly basis for the first year to ensure there are no—problems.”

I didn’t ask what kind of problems he meant. My imagination ran wild and the knot in my stomach got a little larger.

When the doors opened again, we were on level six. Off the elevator and into a room that looked a lot like the one on level five, neither of us said a word. A large marble island in the center manned by a tall black woman and a short white man was hard to miss.

“Good morning, Nika.” Dad turned to the man. “Peter.” He nodded to me. “This is Deznee, a new acquisition. I need for her to spend the day with Mercy.”

Nika nodded, expression blank. She reached for the phone and turned away from us, speaking quietly into the receiver.

Peter, on the other hand, wasn’t so dismissive. He stared, eyes wide and appraising, drifting between my chest and regions lower. Tongue darting in and out like a lizard, he licked his lips and leaned forward. “And what’s your gift, little cutie?”

I gave him my most wicked smile. “Ass kicking. Want to see?”

He straightened up and turned to Dad with a chuckle. “This one’s a ball of fire. Where’d you find her?”

“This one is off limits, Peter. Deznee is my daughter.” Dad’s voice came out stony and cold, but not in the way a protective father’s should be. This was different. Oddly possessive. Like I was a shiny new toy he couldn’t wait to take out for a test drive. One he didn’t want to share.

Peter’s face paled and his eyes became impossibly large. “Your daughter, sir?”

“That’s what I said,” Dad snapped. Peter took the hint and quickly turned away, busying himself with a stack of papers on the other side of the counter.

A few moments later, Nika hung up the phone and eyed me warily. “Mercy will be down shortly to collect her.” She had a thick accent that I couldn’t place. An odd mix between Australian and British. I wanted to ask where she was from, but I didn’t think that would portray the right image. Cool and detached. That was what I’d need to survive this place.

I figured I should look at this like prison. Go in and project a badass attitude and maybe no one would screw with me. I glanced over to see Peter sneaking lecherous glances at me again when Dad wasn’t looking.

Dad pulled me away from the desk and into the corner to wait for Mercy. “I have instructed Mercy to treat you no differently than any other acquisition. She will ask you the same questions and expect the same answers. You are to respond truthfully because she will know if you are lying.”

He reached out, taking a firm grip on my upper arm. There’d be a bruise there tomorrow for sure. Out of habit, I almost jerked away, but thought twice. That probably wouldn’t be accepted. Not here. I wasn’t his daughter anymore—I couldn’t get away with shooting my mouth off or flipping him the bird. He looked down at me, eyes full of anticipation. I was finally in a place he could control. He was eating this up. I could see it in his eyes.

“Denazen is an environment onto itself. To survive here, the key factor is obedience.”





17


Mercy was a petite woman with dull green eyes and mousey brown hair. She wore it pulled into a severe bun that did nothing for the shape of her face. Her beige slacks were wrinkled and a bit too short, and her blue blouse was tucked too tightly, hugging snug in the shoulders. With most people, you can tell a lot about them from not only the clothes they wear, but how they wear them. If clothing was any indication, Mercy was tragic.

At first glance, everything about the woman screamed weak-willed, milk-toast. I bet myself a new pair of boots—black suede—that when she spoke, her voice would be wispy and soft. Her posture slightly slumped, she fidgeted with the pen in her hand—flicking the point in and out, in and out. I stuffed my hands into my pockets to keep from ripping the pen from her fingers and jabbing her with it. Then, when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she started chewing her bottom lip. I hated that.