nod my head a couple of times. “Okay,” I breathe.
He gives me a wink, then leans in toward me. I should be apprehensive about him being so close, but I’m not. I feel oddly comfortable with him right here. The bartender leaves a shot glass in front of him, not me, and slowly he slides it in front of me.
“What’s your name?” I chance.
He lifts his beer at the same time I lift my glass. When we clink, he gives me a wink. “Dragon, I’m the president around here.” He grins, then lifts his bottle to his lips and takes a pull.
Putting the glass to my lips, I take the entire shot in one gulp, coughing as it burns down my throat. Shaking my head, I suppress the shiver, my gaze never leaving his, even when my eyes water from the booze.
“Well then,” I cough.
“Yes, well then,” he says, never wiping the smile off of his lips.
I think about asking him why he’s sending Mountain away the way that he is, for an entire fucking month, but I don’t. Clearing my throat, I shift my eyes away from his for a moment before I move them back. He’s still watching me, obviously waiting for me to say something.
“You’re waiting for me to speak,” I finally say.
He lifts his chin with a jerk. “I’m trying to figure you out. Been around a lot of women in my day, usually I can figure one out in a heartbeat. Been around spoiled princesses, women who want to get away from their lives, survivors, thrill-seekers, you name it. There’s something different about you.”
“Been around women who were used as a plaything by their own fathers?” I ask, somehow feeling like I can say whatever shit I want, maybe it’s the tequila, maybe his gaze is just that unnerving.
“Yeah, I have,” he says, his lips turning downward. “Not sure you qualify completely. See, Mountain hasn’t had time to dig up much about you, but my computer genius has, and I know more than anyone else here about you, Leighton.”
“Oh yeah?” I whisper, my heart racing against my ribs, the sensation feeling so damn close to a heart attack, I wonder how I’m still even breathing at this point. “What do you think you know about me?”
I’m honestly not sure what there is to know. I thought that I was mostly a secret, no birth certificate, no mother, no private or public schooling—a virtual ghost.
He nods his head slowly, then I watch as he licks his lips. His full dark beard makes it really hard to read his expression. I think about Mountain and how even though I can’t always tell what he’s thinking, his beard is clipped close to his face, so at least I can tell if he’s smiling or frowning.
Dragon hums, leaning back in his seat slightly. “I know you struggled on your own for five years before your daddy scooped you back up. You lived like a pauper when you’re from more money than anyone I’ve even met before. I know that all of that money is yours, all you have to do is claim it. It’s always been in offshore accounts, in your name.”
“What?” I breathe.
He nods his head. “Yeah, it’s all yours. Every dirty, filthy, red cent.”
Something ugly settles in the pit of my belly at the way he says dirty, filthy, red cent. I close my eyes with a hitch to my breath. Whether I want to admit it or not, I know exactly what that means.
How my father earned that money, the fact is, he didn’t earn it at all. Those girls, the ones he allowed his friends to abuse, they earned it—on their backs.
“I don’t want it,” I whisper.
“You could buy more of that fancy tequila than you could drink in a lifetime and still have money left over. That’s a lot of green to say you don’t want. Girl like you, life you were used to when you lived with him. You could live the rest of your days out in peace, quiet, and alone.”
“I could. But what about all those girls who died for that? What about them? I don’t want it, and I mean that.”
He leans forward, his eyes sparkling as he watches me. “You earned it though too, didn’t you?”
“Fuck you,” I grind out.
He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, his lips curl up into a grin. “I like you, Leighton. I think you’re going to fit in quite nicely here, that is, if you