Page 9 of The Reckoning
“Fuck you,” I spit, voice steadier than I feel.
He smiles, amused rather than offended. “Such foul language from a Hayes heiress. What would your mother say?”
“Probably that I should have used a more creative insult.”
He laughs, and the sound is genuine, which is somehow worse than anger would be. Like we’re playing a game with rules only he understands.
I peer around the room where I’m being kept. It looks like a corporate apartment—neutral colors, generic furniture, no personal touches. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless. Thewindows are blacked out, but I’m pretty sure we’re high up somewhere. The city sounds distant.
I’ve been here for hours, though it feels longer. My arms ache from the zip ties cutting into my wrists, and my head throbs where they grabbed me. Those things suck, but it’s the superficial stuff that bothers me most—the rub of my leggings at my ankles, the way my hair continues to fall into my eyes.
They’re the stupidest things to focus on when my life is in danger, but they’re the things I can control, even if only in my mind.
The man with the knife—younger, harder around the edges despite the expensive suit—watches me with open curiosity.
“What?” I snap at him.
“You’re not what I expected,” he retorts, head tilted slightly. “For someone with a supposedly fragile heart, you’ve got quite the spirit.”
I resist the urge to correct him about my condition. Let them think I’m weaker than I am. Mother taught me that, too—never reveal your full hand, especially to enemies.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say instead.
The older man puts his phone away, adjusting his cuff links with practiced precision. There’s something familiar about him—something in the set of his jaw, and the way he holds himself. In the back of my head, there’s a memory, although it refuses to come forward. I’ve seen him before, somewhere on the periphery of my life.
One of Richard’s business associates? One of Mother’s countlessfriends?
“We have some time before our deadline,” he says, settling into an armchair across from me. “Perhaps we could use it productively.”
“If byproductively,you mean interrogating me? No thanks.”
“Conversation, Miss Hayes. Civil discourse between interested parties.”
“Can you speak normally? If you wanted to have a civil conversation, kidnapping me wasn’t a good way to go about it.”
“It was a regrettable necessity.” He gestures to the younger man, who produces a first-aid kit and begins cleaning the cut on my arm.
I flinch away from his touch, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Infection would be unfortunate,” the older man speaks so nonchalantly as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Regardless of what you think, we have no desire to cause you unnecessary harm. My only desire is to bring down Richard and Patricia. From what I have seen in surveillance footage, you might feel the same way. We can work together on this.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I mutter, wincing as the antiseptic stings my cut.
The younger man works efficiently, clinical in his movements. No unnecessary touching, no threatening gestures. Just the impersonal care of someone maintaining valuable property.
“You’ve discovered quite a bit about the Hayes family secrets,” the older man comments while watching me carefully. “Impressive research.”
I say nothing. I know they’ve been watching me through Arson, but have they been watching me in other ways?Following me around campus, hacking into my laptop? Thinking about the lengths they might go to get what they want… makes my skin crawl.
“The offshore accounts. The board manipulations. Medical facility irregularities.” He ticks them off on his manicured fingers. “All threads in a very tangled web. But of course I’ve known about most of that for some time.”
Mother always said knowledge is power, but only if you control who has access to it. I’ve spent time and stress gaining this knowledge. It’s unsettling to have someone else read my hand so easily.
“Sounds like you know everything. What do you want from me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.
“Information. Clarification. Your perspective.”
