Read Online The Arrangement (The Blankenships Book 9) by Evelyn Glass - Free Book Online
Authors: Evelyn Glass
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so committed to that ideal. She’d wanted to know that he was going to fill out his father’s shoes in a way that satisfied her. She’d wanted to groom him, ease him into that space. She’d wanted to give him what he’d wanted, the chance to be a better man than his father had been. She’d sacrificed everything to give her children a better chance than she’d thought they’d have as the Black children of a dentist’s daughter, no matter how rich he had been.
And look what it had done. This was the kind of story the Greeks would have loved, a human brought low by the gods through their own refusal to accept fate and destiny.
The office was exactly as it had been when his father had died. Everything pin straight, everything carefully lined up. Someone had been cleaning it regularly. Even though the office door was closed, there was an occupied air to the room, as if the old man had stepped out for a quick fuck and would be back any moment.
It was enough to twist Alex’s guts inside out. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want any of this to be real. He wanted to go back in time, all the way back to when he’d had both his parents, as much as he’d detested them, and try it all over again. This time, he’d do better. This time, he’d help them make peace. He’d be more careful, he’d be a better son, he’d do what his parents wanted him to, be who they’d wanted him to be—
The only thing centering him in the panic that wanted to squeeze his heart into crumbs between his lungs was Zoey’s hand, still soft in his. She must have seen the conflict and twist in his expression, but somehow, she was resisting the urge to do what every other human being had ever done when the panic had overwhelmed him and squeeze him even tighter. Instead, she moved to the side into his peripheral vision, where he could choose to look at her or look away. “Hey,” she murmured. “Hey. You’ve gone away. I’m right here. Can you come back to me?”
He started with his fingers, locked in hers. He was gripping her so hard that it had to hurt, but he couldn’t relax his fingers, not yet. He focused on the feel of their hands, knit together. His fingers had gotten cold, and it made hers feel burning hot, but he could use that, focus on that. What else was here, what else was now? His socks were itchy, rubbing awkwardly against his skin, because he’d been wearing them for a full day of plane travel. The shirt Luke had brought him didn’t fit properly, stretching over his biceps even as it was loose in the shoulders. And Zoey was here. Zoey was here, holding his hand and trusting in him. That made the panic worse, but for just a moment, and then the crushing force in his chest began to loosen. As the burning eased, a little bit more of the outer world began to filter back in. He could feel the slight press of the air filtration over his skin, cooling the sweat that had broken out over his body.
But mostly, it was her hand. Her fingers in his, not squeezing, not pushing, but just being present. Just quietly waiting for him to be ready to take the next step.
He kissed her, softly, mouth closed, just to say thank you.
“What do we do next?” She asked, quietly.
He opened his mouth to tell her the next step of his plan—to hack into the old man’s computer and look for evidence here—but a sharp laugh behind them shattered everything into ugly pieces.
“This is the part,” said a voice that was nothing more than an ugly snarl, “Where you lay down and die. I’ve had enough of both of you.”
Aaron Schwartz had slipped into the office, and he held a small, ugly, but efficient looking gun in his right hand. The door made a quiet snicking sound as the latch caught behind him, and Schwartz focused his watery eyes on Alex. “Now,” he said. “I think it’s time that we talk.”
CHAPTER NINE
Zoey had watched the signs of a panic attack descend over
And look what it had done. This was the kind of story the Greeks would have loved, a human brought low by the gods through their own refusal to accept fate and destiny.
The office was exactly as it had been when his father had died. Everything pin straight, everything carefully lined up. Someone had been cleaning it regularly. Even though the office door was closed, there was an occupied air to the room, as if the old man had stepped out for a quick fuck and would be back any moment.
It was enough to twist Alex’s guts inside out. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want any of this to be real. He wanted to go back in time, all the way back to when he’d had both his parents, as much as he’d detested them, and try it all over again. This time, he’d do better. This time, he’d help them make peace. He’d be more careful, he’d be a better son, he’d do what his parents wanted him to, be who they’d wanted him to be—
The only thing centering him in the panic that wanted to squeeze his heart into crumbs between his lungs was Zoey’s hand, still soft in his. She must have seen the conflict and twist in his expression, but somehow, she was resisting the urge to do what every other human being had ever done when the panic had overwhelmed him and squeeze him even tighter. Instead, she moved to the side into his peripheral vision, where he could choose to look at her or look away. “Hey,” she murmured. “Hey. You’ve gone away. I’m right here. Can you come back to me?”
He started with his fingers, locked in hers. He was gripping her so hard that it had to hurt, but he couldn’t relax his fingers, not yet. He focused on the feel of their hands, knit together. His fingers had gotten cold, and it made hers feel burning hot, but he could use that, focus on that. What else was here, what else was now? His socks were itchy, rubbing awkwardly against his skin, because he’d been wearing them for a full day of plane travel. The shirt Luke had brought him didn’t fit properly, stretching over his biceps even as it was loose in the shoulders. And Zoey was here. Zoey was here, holding his hand and trusting in him. That made the panic worse, but for just a moment, and then the crushing force in his chest began to loosen. As the burning eased, a little bit more of the outer world began to filter back in. He could feel the slight press of the air filtration over his skin, cooling the sweat that had broken out over his body.
But mostly, it was her hand. Her fingers in his, not squeezing, not pushing, but just being present. Just quietly waiting for him to be ready to take the next step.
He kissed her, softly, mouth closed, just to say thank you.
“What do we do next?” She asked, quietly.
He opened his mouth to tell her the next step of his plan—to hack into the old man’s computer and look for evidence here—but a sharp laugh behind them shattered everything into ugly pieces.
“This is the part,” said a voice that was nothing more than an ugly snarl, “Where you lay down and die. I’ve had enough of both of you.”
Aaron Schwartz had slipped into the office, and he held a small, ugly, but efficient looking gun in his right hand. The door made a quiet snicking sound as the latch caught behind him, and Schwartz focused his watery eyes on Alex. “Now,” he said. “I think it’s time that we talk.”
CHAPTER NINE
Zoey had watched the signs of a panic attack descend over
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