Touch (Denazen #1)(45)

“The boy.”

Crap. Would they know his name? I didn’t have a choice—I had to answer—and she’d know if I lied. “Alex,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask for his last name,—even though I knew better.

“Alex, what?”

I’d officially lost my sense of humor about all this. “Mojourn.” It took every ounce of self-control I had—and then some—not to snap at her.

She made some notes on her sheet. “And the others? What are their names?”

“I told you, there was only one.”

“How many others were you semi-intimate with?”

“Semi-intimate? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, give me the names of the ones you’ve…messed around with.”

“You can’t be serious.”

She straightened in her chair. Tapping the pen against the edge of her desk, she asked, “Is there a problem, Deznee?”

“Actually, there is, Mercy.” I stood. “I can’t possibly remember all their names, and honestly, I don’t see what it has to do with anything. Is being a Six catching? Are you afraid I gave them some disease?”

“Fine,” she said calmly. “Then give me the names of the last three.”

I sighed. “Joe Lakes, Max Demore, and—” Crap! Now what? No way I could answer truthfully without seriously incriminating myself and blowing my whole I-need-revenge cover story, and there was no way I could lie.

Then it hit me. I didn’t need to lie. Technically, I didn’t know Kale’s real name.

“I don’t know the third guy’s name.”

She studied me. Her eyes on mine, unwavering, made me want to squirm in my seat. It had been a long time since an adult’s glare did that. “How far did it go?”

“Excuse me?”

“With this unnamed boy, how far did you go?”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “With all due respect, what does this have to do with my working here?”

“How far did it go?” she repeated, voice even.

Fists balled tight, I stood. “How far? We were in my bed,” I said in a low, throaty purr. “His hands were everywhere—tugging at my clothes, pulling my hair. It gave me such a thrill to know my dad was right down the hall. I—”

Mercy stood. “Let’s take a break from the questions.” She walked to the front of her desk and leaned back. “Let’s go over some things about Denazen.”

“Okay.”

“You see, here at Denazen everything about your life is our business. Due to the highly…sensitive nature of this job, it is a requirement for us to know our employees. Inside and out. That requires difficult as well as uncomfortable questions. Another thing you should know—and pay attention, because this is important and it applies to you—Denazen has a zero-tolerance policy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lip twitched. If I hadn’t been staring I would have missed it. “It means we don’t suffer attitude-ridden little shits such as yourself.”

I could be a bit impulsive—okay, I could be a lot impulsive—but I hadn’t let anyone talk to me like that since kindergarten and I wasn’t about to start a new trend. “Screw this.” I stalked to the door and jerked up on the handle.

Nothing happened.

I pulled again, jiggling the latch. Still nothing. “What the hell?”

Mercy cleared her throat. I turned to see her holding up a small silver key, a wicked and very satisfied smile on her face. “You will return to your seat and answer the previous question without the theatrics. How far did you go with the last boy?”

My mind wanted me to think this wasn’t happening. I jerked up on the handle one last time before giving up. Of course this was happening. Dad locked my mom away in this pit. Why the hell would I be exempt?

“So you’re saying I’m a prisoner now?” I took my seat and met her determined gaze with one of my own. Show no fear.

“Not at all.”

I raised my eyebrows and then looked back at the door.

“I know how this must look to you, Deznee. Understand, if anyone else had tried what you just did…” She reached down and held up a small black box with several ominous red buttons. Pointing to the floor, she said, “They’d be writhing on the floor in incoherent agony.”

On the floor, barely noticeable, thin strips of wire were woven between the ceramic tile.

“I thought Dad said no special treatment.” I swallowed and hooked my feet behind the back of the chair legs so they didn’t touch the ground.

She stood, smoothing out her unsalvageable pants. Her posture seemed to relax a bit. “Yes, well, Marshall sometimes takes things a bit far when it comes to his work.”

I looked back at the door again. “You don’t say?”

“Shall we continue? Your father doesn’t need to know about this.”

I sighed, and because I couldn’t see any other way around it, carefully told her all about the nameless guy.





18


Dad dropped me off at home and, thankfully, had to head back to the office. As soon as his car was out of sight, I headed to the warehouse. It was a long shot, but I had to do something. Ginger had been clear—her help for the list—but with Kale caught and Alex unwilling to get involved, I was hoping she’d make an exception. Throw me some backup, give me a hint—anything. There was nowhere else to turn. Of course when I got there, the warehouse was empty. There was one last chance. Craigslist. Maybe it wasn’t too late to find tonight’s party.