Page 106 of Omega Tricked
We fell silent, and then he said, “Do you think Hank is free yet?”
Anxiety jolted through me. “Yes.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“I would be.”
He scowled. “I think we both know I wouldn’t be free.”
Guilt washed through me. “You weren’t brought up preparing for the worse things that can happen to you. We were.”
“How do you prepare for that?” He looked mystified.
I shrugged. “My dad was all about making me tough. He’d tie me up and leave me in abandoned buildings to see if I could escape. I got pretty good at getting out of handcuffs and zip ties.” I finished speaking and realized he was looking at me horrified. My face warmed. “Sorry. That’s probably weird to you.”
“Of course that’s weird to me. What kind of father does that?”
“He was… different.”
“God.”
“He wanted me to be prepared in case I got grabbed. It was a real possibility being his kid.” I gave a hard laugh. “But I also think he kind of enjoyed it. He changed a lot as the years went by. To be honest, I barely knew the man who disappeared up here. He was a stranger to me.”
“And yet you came to find out what happened.”
“I had to.”
“I guess.” He studied me. “What will happen to your art gallery?”
I didn’t want to think about that, but it was a fair question. “It’ll shut down. Too bad, too, because it was a cool place.”
“Is art your passion?”
“Not really. I like art, and I like to paint. But mostly I was just trying to distance myself from Dad. I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps, so I picked something he wasn’t interested in. He had zero artistic taste. He judged art based on price. If it was expensive, he liked it.”
“That’s an interesting approach.” He stifled a yawn. “God. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. We should go to bed.”
He nodded, but he avoided my gaze.
I could sense his uneasiness, so I decided to let him off the hook. “I don’t want to sleep with you tonight.”
He looked surprised. “What?”
I laughed. “I mean, I want to, but I don’t expect to. In fact, I don’t think we should.”
“Why?” he asked quietly.
“You need time. I said I’d give you that, and I will.” I grinned. “Even if it means I’ll suffer from blue balls.”
He sighed and kicked my foot. “And you say you’re not a patient man.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dylan
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I muttered, holding on to the toilet bowl as another bout of nausea washed over me. I heaved for a few more minutes, and then eventually the sickness faded. I stood on shaky legs to splash my face with cold water. I brushed my teeth and rinsed. Then I stared at my pale reflection, confused and uneasy.
