Page 84 of Player
This is what my life would be like if I had been convicted for vandalizing my father's offices. He pulled strings, and I gotinto OMU. Which, I see now, was the easy way out. But if I got off easy, the same can't be said for Baxter and his dealer. My friend went to rehab, while his buddy went to jail.
But even though I haven't actually lost my freedom, it feels like I have. This stupid incident was all Bolton needed to take control of my life, and he didn't hesitate to do so.
I can still see his satisfied look when I found myself at his mercy...You'll do what I tell you, or I'll press charges against you, and you'll be convicted.
His little blackmail scheme works perfectly. he managed to get me into OMU without me being able to object. And even now, when I've strayed from the straight and narrow, he still finds a way to punish me.
Damn it! I feel like I've been sentenced to life, and there's nothing I can do to escape.
When I walkout the steel doors of the prison, nothing extraordinary has happened. My father must have made sure I learned my lesson in complete safety. I bitterly think that he has all the necessary connections to turn my life into hell.
A car is waiting for me at the exit, but Bolton isn't there this time. The driver takes me to town in silence. He doesn't speak to me. On my father's orders? I'd bet my life on it. Bolton is perfectly capable of this kind of scheme. Not content with ignoring me, he ensures his servants do the same.
When I return to thepenthouse, I find a welcoming committee presided over by his excellency Bolton Boardman himself. I mock him inwardly, but I'm careful not to show my contempt. I don't want to suffer more thannecessary.
"Sit down," he orders me as soon as I set foot in the main living room.
My attention turns to the different people present: two men and a woman.
"For the coming weeks, you'll have a physical trainer," Bolton begins.
One of the men steps forward, and gives me a stern smile. "I'm Earl Bentley. I'll be responsible for keeping you in good physical shape for when you return to the field."
He stands straight as an arrow, in an almost military posture, at my father's command. Bolton continues, "You'll take classes to keep up with your studies with Miss Cade here. I’ve already arranged with the dean for your assignments to be turned in remotely. Finally, you'll catch up on the subjects you managed to miss with Lee Gaspen."
The second man is older, and his gaze is gentler when it meets mine.
OK, so here's the fine team in charge of my success and eventual reintegration on campus. I bite my tongue while trying to control the anger simmering inside me.
Bolton thinks he's found the ultimate solution to make me follow the path he's laid out for me. And I hate to admit it, but for now, I have no escape. Besides, he's made sure I don't forget where disobedience could lead me: straight to prison. After the two days I spent there, I don't plan to set foot in there again. Ever! I'd rather die.
If I want any chance of getting out of this someday, I need to pretend to bend to Bolton's will for now. I'm beginning to understand that there will be only one way to win my freedom… beating him at his own game.
This man is changing me, and I hate that he has this power over me.
In the weeks that follow, I numb myself with studying andphysical exercise. Fourteen hours a day combined, with the rest of my time being sleeping and eating. During all this time, my thoughts focus on revenge, and when I'm not thinking about a plan, I think about Dixie.
Without even knowing it, she helps soothe my torment. And there's nothing sexual about it. I don't even jerk off. It's not for lack of wanting her desperately, I’m just too tired to get a hard-on. My dreams revolve around her and all the scenarios my unconscious mind can elaborate. In each of them, I make love to her as if it were the last time.
It's killing me not being able to talk to her or touch her. But all I can do is endure and comply with Bolton's orders. At least on the surface, because in my head, I'm constantly devising plans to escape him.
Every time I see him, my hatred grows, sometimes to the point of suffocation. Since I've been back, I've walled myself in sullen silence. I systematically refuse Emery's calls, claiming I'm too busy surfing on the West Coast. I barely answer questions from Gaspen and Miss Cade during the lessons they give me.
I feel like a damn lab rat placed under Bolton's perverse observation, just waiting for me to make one false move so he can unleash his violence.
Sometimes, when he thinks I don't see him, I catch the malevolence in his gaze. And as the days pass, the fear I felt toward him turns into contained rage. A sick joy fills me at the thought that one day I'll have my revenge. I don't know when or how, but I'm sticking to my course.
As the month of suspension comes to an end, Bolton hasn't had a single opportunity to raise a hand against me. I can sense his anger simmering, ready to explode.
And since I'm out of his reach in the presence of the team he hired, he directs his hatred toward my stepmother. Pamela,although scatterbrained and fairly superficial, doesn't deserve his violence. She’s an innocent who thought she’d found a Prince Charming, only to realize that he was anything but.
On the last evening, as I head to my room after a final training session in the penthouse gym, I'm alerted by screams.
My blood runs cold. This kind of screaming isn't unfamiliar to me, my mother made the same sounds when I was younger. A shiver of fear and disgust runs through me, and without thinking further, I climb the stairs leading to the floor occupied by Bolton and his wife. I head toward the room where the screams are coming from, and I freeze at the threshold. The door is ajar, and the scene I witness makes me sick to my stomach.
Pamela is lying face down on their bed, hands tied behind her back, completely naked. Her surgically enhanced chest is pressed against the bedspread while her buttocks are raised toward Bolton. The latter, also naked, holds a leather belt in his hand. When it comes down on Pamela's rear, the young woman lets out another scream. I can't tell if she's enjoying what's happening to her or not, but at least she's not asking him to stop.
The scene turns my stomach, and I back away to leave, but Bolton's voice follows me into the hallway. "You should stay, son. I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two."
