Page 51 of Pretty Pink Poison
After months, our routine was in place. I checked on her three times a day through cameras. Nothing more than that, and I let the Oracle app of hers that I’d hacked fill me on the rest:
“I was so bored today I switched the sugar and saltshakers in the resort restaurant. And then I quietly laughed at all the people glancing at their coffees at breakfast with looks of disgust. Pretty sure a few complained, but you’d be surprised how many tried to act like nothing was wrong. They didn’t want to cause a fuss. Is that what we’re supposed to do in adulthood? Just not cause a fuss?”
The Oracle would spit out the worst advice ever saying it’s ideal to not ruffle feathers. What if Bianca needed to ruffle feathers to get her fucking way? She shouldn’t sit there silently.
Of course I realized I also should have been pissed about the saltshakers. She made more work constantly like this for me.
“Did you know you’re not supposed to feed the Koi in the ponds of resorts certain things? Like they give you an open pond and let people gawk at them all day, but they can’t have a freaking treat every now and then? I gave them oranges and I figure that’s the nice thing to do. They’ll appreciate the fact that they got something while being imprisoned in this godforsaken place. I know just how they feel.” That time the Oracle just positively reinforced everything to her like it was so far up her ass it couldn’t just say, “Koi can’t eat all the shit people throw in there which is why there’s a sign.”
The AI responses were a damn joke, but I still sat there listening or reading every single word like the stalker I allowed myself to be.
I learned her favorite nail colors and sent them to her. Her favorite romance books. Sent those too. I knew lip glosses versus fucking lip stains, and I wasn’t proud to say I studied the difference after she complained to the app that I’d sent the wrong one.
She was never ever fucking grateful.
“I know you’ve somehow found a way to hear this, Bane. So fuck you for leaving those books like you give a shit. Have youread even one? You couldn’t have otherwise you’d know that this is no way to treat a girl. Ever. I haven’t seen him in months, Oracle. He has a nurse come without him now to check my blood work and just somehow has my place bugged so he can act like he cares.”
That entry pissed me off enough that I complained to Rafe and Ezra at our third quarter meeting.
It was nearing the one-year mark of Bianca being with me, close enough to her Halloween birthday, that I felt the charge in the air. She was itching again to act out, and I knew it, heard it in the way she raged, saw it when I checked her security cameras we implanted in her penthouse.
“Things would be going much more smoothly within that resort if Bianca wasn’t causing havoc at every turn. She rearranged all the florals last week in the lobby and—”
“Do we care about such a miniscule disruption? We’re talking about a billion-dollar investment here,” Ezra interjected, looking at me like I’d lost it.
“We’re only as good as each of our ventures which include these resorts and—”
“If she’s annoying you, just say that. Don’t bullshit us with a lecture,” Ezra grumbled, eyeing up his helmet like he wanted back on his bike immediately. “You know she acts out because she’s bored as fuck here, like most people would be.”
I glanced around the room. “There’re a million things to do in this resort. Plus, I have other things to do other than babysit her.”
“You sure? You spend a hell of a lot of time doing it.”
“And still I’ve managed to accomplish three times more than you do in a day.”
“Not five times more? Only three?” Ezra grinned, instigating a fight because he knew my tendencies, my weaknesses, andwas the best at poking at them. The jab was deliberate, and I unclipped my seat belt to stand over him.
“Ask that again, brother.”
I needed somewhere to unload the war that had been building in me for months. It had teeth; it wanted to fight, to taste pain, to make something else hurt so I didn’t have to feel the dull ache inside. My father had hammered into me that my tendencies, like his, would always save the family—count everything twice, check it thrice; mistakes meant bodies.
And we’d lost a few men because of it. My brothers knew it, but we were all hard on each other especially when one of us wasn’t focused. Ezra knew I wasn’t.
Maybe, for years, Bianca had been the counterweight; seeing her mess gave me an outlet to manage and fix. She calmed the beast, made the need to fix louder than the need to break. Lately I’d avoided her balance though, and it was showing.
“Don’t start shit.” Rafe didn’t even look up from his laptop, just pushed his reading glasses up his nose. “Ezra, I’ll beat your ass myself if you disrespect Bane again, especially considering how many times his checks have saved your life.”
“He started it,” Ezra shot back, sounding contrite.
“And I’ll finish it,” Rafe said flatly, closing the laptop with a snap. “We’ve got meetings that are important today. Fighting over a girl who’s a payment from the West Coast syndicate is a waste of time.”
“That’s all she is to you?” I sat back down, glaring at him.
“Yes,” he replied clearly and didn’t look away as he said, “but I know that’s not all she is to you. I know you climbed through her window many times, Bane.”
What could I say to that? I kept a stony expression that didn’t give anything away, but my brothers knew me. These men knew me.
Jameson whistled and said, “She is worth climbing through a window for. But going after your brother’s girl?”
