This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,30
that allows you to pay five million dollars for a girl?” she asks, although her gaze is fixed on my forearm which I am nervously scratching.
I jerk my fingers away and gape at her. Her shining blue eyes calm my cracking spirit and I take a deep breath.
“I’m twenty-eight. My dad owns a multi-national conglomerate called MPE or McPherson Enterprises. It’s a technology corporation. I guess you could say I’m the brains of his operation. He makes sure we make money. Not much to it.”
She nods but her brows furrow with unspoken questions. “Sounds like there’s a lot to it if you operate all over the world. What do you like to do for fun? Or have I been sold to a psycho whose idea of a good time is preying on little girls?”
Fun. Fun. Fun.
I blink at her three times more as the word bounces around in my head. As a child—before my world caved in on me—I used to have fun. I’d play video games and ride my bike. As a teen I’d surf and go to the movies. A shudder ripples through me as I recall how many times I’d fallen and skinned my knees while riding my bike or how much ocean water I’d ingest sometimes while surfing. Thankfully that was before.
“Don’t be silly, I don’t prey on anyone.”
She lets out a small laugh and the melodic sound slides around my heart, gripping it to the point of pain. How is such a sound so decadent? I want her to do it again. Over and over. To put it on a loop and drag it out for eternity. It distracts me from the dark—draws me into the light.
“I run for fun.” Her blue eyes darken and her gaze falls to her lap for a moment. “Well, I used to run.”
My stomach flops. The despondency in her voice nauseates me. I prefer when she laughs or when her words carry that lightness in her tone. My life is depressing enough without my tainting the others around me. In an effort to draw her back to a better place, I blurt out my words. “I like to play chess.”
She lifts her chin and her eyes twinkle once again with curiosity. “Is that like checkers?”
I scoff. “Hardly. Chess is played on a square board, comprised of sixty-four smaller squares, with eight squares on each side. Each player begins with sixteen pieces: eight pawns, two knights, two bishops, two rooks, one queen and one king. The goal of the game is for each player to try and checkmate the king of the opponent. Checkmate is a threat to the opposing king which no move can stop. It ends the game.”
“Sounds technical. Will you teach me?”
The vision of her fingering my ivory pieces damn near sends me into a panic attack. But the thought of her in my environment with me, sharing the space, talking to me, laughing in my presence is enough to calm the fury of the storm waging in my head.
“If you promise to wash your hands and be gentle with my pieces. My dad had the set custom made for me. It was created by an Indonesian man who carves them by hand from ivory. Dad sent him careful instructions and the man adhered to the rules. They’re perfect and pure.”
She blinks one, two, three times before speaking. “I see. Sounds wonderful.”
I smile.
I fucking smile.
My heart begins to thump in my chest.
“Oh look,” she breathes out as she stares out the window, “things are moving again.”
About that time, Edison puts the car into drive.
My mind reels with memories of her laughter, smiles behind the cloth, twinkling eyes. It was easy for her. A thought plagues me—is she a master manipulator or simply content that I, a mad recluse, bought her? She’s too calm. Too at ease with the situation. “Did you distract me on purpose or did you really want to know about me?” The bite in my voice startles her and she turns to stare at me with kind eyes again. They seem so natural on her face.
“You seemed upset so I was trying to distract you I suppose.” Her words are a betrayal to the trust I gave to her so easily. “But…”
I search for deception in her young eyes but only find sincerity.
“But, I honestly wanted to know more about you. I wanted to know what I was about to dive into. Gabe had prepared me for the worst. I was expecting”—she sighs and