Beg For Me: Chapter 37

Sophia calls me back immediately after I hang up on her, but I send the call to voicemail. Then I jolt from my desk chair and stride out of my office, more furious than I’ve been in years. I’m so angry, my hands are shaking.

Those motherfuckers at TriCast threatened my woman.

Shit’s about to get ugly.

Ignoring Callum’s startled secretary, I burst into his office and loudly announce, “We’ve got a problem. It’s about Sophia.”

Sitting behind his big oak desk studying a sheaf of papers, Callum doesn’t even glance up. Sounding bored, he says, “That sounds like a you problem, Carter. As you can see, I’m busy. Go annoy someone else.”

I stride across the office, yank the papers out of his hands, and toss them aside. They scatter onto the floor in a fluttering mess. Bracing my arms against the edge of the desk, I lean over him and say through gritted teeth, “They’re blackmailing her to get information on me. We have to do something!”

Leaning back in his chair, my oldest brother clasps his hands over his stomach and gazes at me with his signature expression, a look of irritation and utter contempt.

I don’t take it personally. He looks at everyone like that. Except his wife, Emery, who he looks at with disturbing, unblinking intensity, like a serial killer fixated on his next victim.

“Well, well,” he says sarcastically. “Blackmail? Shocking. Who could’ve guessed our number one business rival might want to leverage your romantic relationship with their COO? It’s unimaginable, really. Nobody could’ve ever predicted they’d do something so underhanded.”

I love my brother, but sometimes he’s a real fucking pain in my ass.

“Yes, you told me dating Sophia would be complicated. Congratulations, Nostradamus. If you’re done patting yourself on your back, let’s get to the part where we decide what to do about it.”

“I never said it would be complicated. I said it would be a fucking disaster. So far, we’ve had to buy a tabloid, run a photographer out of town, and spend copious amounts of time and money ensuring all those crystal clear digital images of you and your Oedipus complex having kinky sex in your living room were completely wiped from existence.”

“Spanking isn’t kinky.”

“It is when she’s the one doing the spanking. With a kitchen utensil, no less.”

We glare at each other until he gives up and sighs.

“Fine. What’s going on?”

I stand, cross my arms over my chest, and pace around his spacious glass-walled office as I relay the information Sophia told me about the HR manager and her demands.

When I finish, he says, “Have you ever spoken to her on an unsecured line?”

“No. All our conversations were scrambled.”

“And her house is clear?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I just said yes, fuckwit.”

“You did.” His tone sours. “You also forgot to close the fucking curtains before letting her make you her little spanky toy on your living room floor, so don’t act like you’re Jason fucking Bourne, okay? Jesus Christ, Carter, it’s Threat Awareness 101. Make sure nobody can see straight through your windows when you’re a high-profile public figure about to have his bare ass beat like a naughty schoolboy.”

I smirk at him. “You’re just jealous you can’t get Emery to do that to you.”

His dark eyes harden. He growls, “Get my wife’s name out of your mouth before I wipe the floor with you.”

This fucking caveman.

I drop into one of the tufted leather chairs across from his desk and lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. “I cleared Sophia’s house the first time I was there. RF spectrum sweep, thermal imaging sweep, non-linear junction detector scan, passive sniffers to analyze Wi-Fi traffic. All the fun toys my phone was designed with, I used. I didn’t get any hits. Her place is clean.”

He appears dubious. “What about laser microphone detection? Line of sight from adjacent buildings?”

I did both, but I’m sick of listing the details. He’ll just have to trust me on this. “The house is clean, okay? Leave it.”

He glowers at me for a moment, then looks at the mess I made on the floor with his papers, and his glower grows darker.

“Have your secretary deal with it, Callum. Focus. TriCast has overstepped. What’s going to be our response?”

He turns his attention toward me again, lifting his brows. “Our response?”

“I’m thinking we give them a taste of their own medicine. Deepfakes, disinformation campaigns, some kind of juicy internal scandal that will tank their stock price and set them back on their heels. They’ll be too busy scrambling with PR mop-up they won’t have time to bother Sophia.” My voice turns to a snarl. “And Hartman and that sleazy HR manager are first in line for the firing squad.”

He stares at me for a long time, his gaze assessing. “You’re willing to go to war for this woman?”

My answer comes with zero hesitation. “War’s only the tip of the iceberg. The goal is total annihilation.”

I can tell he’s surprised by the vehemence in my voice. The raw fury. He’s never heard me talk like this before.

But I’ve never been in love before, so he’ll have to get fucking used to it.

“And then what?” he asks. “Because if you think the threats and manipulations will end, you’re wrong. They’ll regroup and start again. As long as the two of you are seeing each other, she’ll be a target.”

I glance down at my hands, forcing myself not to think of the way Sophia sounded before we got off the phone. I’m sure I’ll be doing enough of that later when I’m alone in bed, replaying every second of our conversation in my mind and castigating myself for my idiocy.

But it’s better for her this way. I can only drag her down.

In a saner tone, I say, “We’re not going to be seeing each other anymore. I mean, I’ll still be seeing her, because…well…‘stalking’ I guess is the best word for it. I’ll never be able to leave her alone. I already know that. But she won’t know that. It’ll just be one-sided, like it was before. I’ll watch her and make sure she’s safe but stay out of her life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Callum demands angrily. “Are you high right now?”

He’s such a drama queen. “You know I don’t do drugs.”

“I don’t know any such fucking thing! You sound deranged! Your plan is to break it off with her, take revenge on the people who threatened her, then follow the poor woman for the rest of her life, lurking in the shadows and pining after her but never approaching like some emo lovelorn vampire?”

I think about that, then nod. “I mean, it sounds bad when you say it, but yeah. Basically.”

He closes his eyes and mutters, “You’re adopted. We cannot be related.”

This from the guy who stalked his own wife for literal years before they met, setting up a Machiavellian plot to get her to agree to marry him for money so he could save her bookstore—the store that was going under because he bought her largest competitor and purposely installed them right next door.

“I’d laugh but I think I hear your delusions calling. You’re the most manipulative person I’ve ever met.”

“At least I’m not a self-sacrificing douchebag.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Exasperated, he rises from his chair and strides over to the door. He pokes his head out, hollers at his secretary for an iced coffee, slams the door, then returns to his desk, his energy poisonous, and glares at me.

“You get such a boner over neglecting your own needs, it’s pathological.”

That stings, but I won’t show it. I go with sarcasm instead. “Pardon me. When did you become a licensed therapist?”

“Don’t be a fucking martyr!” he thunders. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault! You don’t have to spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for something bad people did to you!”

Stunned by that outburst, I sit back in the chair and stare at him as my heart flops around under my ribcage like a dying fish.

Callum glances toward the windows, exhales hard, and mutters, “Fuck.”

My chest is so tight, I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. We’ve never talked about the kidnapping. I wasn’t even sure he knew it was a kidnapping. Like I told Sophia, everybody in my family always acted like I’d been away visiting relatives.

Violent, ruthless relatives who fucked me up for life.

We don’t look at each other. The clock ticks loudly on the wall. The silence is unbearable. Finally, Callum clears his throat.

“I apologize. That was out of line.”

I’m stunned all over again, because never once in my entire life have I heard Callum apologize to anyone. For anything. I didn’t think he had it in him.

He snaps, “Look, don’t sit there like a fucking asshole, judging me. Say something.”

His irritated tone makes me smile. “I’m not judging you.”

“You should be.”

“Why?”

A muscle in his jaw flexes. He grinds his molars a few times, then grudgingly admits, “I was a shitty big brother.”

I blink in astonishment. “Honestly, if you keep on going like this, I might pass out from sheer shock.”

“Oh shut up, you fucking twat.”

“No, I’m being serious. I don’t even know who you are right now.”

“If you’re done being obnoxious, you little shit, I’ll continue.”

We stare at each other for another long while, until he gets bored of it and rolls his eyes.

“Christ, you’re a dick. I have no fucking idea what any female sees in you.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re a real prize too. Wait, am I a twat or a dick? I’m confused. By the way, has your wife discovered yet that you’re a member of an international cabal of deluded macho men who think they’re going to save the world?”

He falls still. Incredibly still, like a statue carved of stone. I’m not sure he’s even breathing.

Stunning him into silence is surprisingly gratifying.

“Yeah, I know about the Thirteen. I know about Cole’s side gig as a lifeline for battered women too. It’s not exactly rocket science to pick up on things when everyone in the family thinks I’m a dim bulb.”

“Mom doesn’t think that,” Callum replies, smiling faintly.

I say without heat, “Fuck you.”

He regards me for a while, then shakes his head. “Listen. You want my advice?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“But you’ll get it anyway. Here it is: if you really have feelings for this woman, don’t be a pussy about it.”

“Let me jump in here and remind you that pussies aren’t weak. They’re the exact opposite. For example, how well do you think you’d handle it if you had to push an actual human out of your dick?”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me, you gargantuan gasbag. What I’m saying is don’t half-ass it. Don’t be the weirdo hanging around in the shrubs outside her house and watching her Instagram stories a thousand times and polishing every memory of every second you spent together like it’s a fucking diamond. Don’t be the emo lovelorn vampire. No woman wants a fucking emo lovelorn vampire, okay? Don’t give her up. Fight for her. Because if you’re not willing to fight for her, then you don’t deserve her.”

His expression sours. “Which you definitely don’t, but I’m trying to be supportive.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you won’t help me fuck with TriCast.”

He closes his eyes and exhales. “Get out of my office.”

“Look, if it were you TriCast was fucking with, I know we’d be already have mounted a shock-and-awe military-style bombardment to bury them. All I’m asking for is like, half of that effort.”

He glares at me balefully.

“Okay, one quarter.”

“You want to be man enough for her, Carter? Then solve your own fucking problems. You created the situation, you fix it. Then we can talk about TriCast. Until then, go find a sandbox to play in.”

It’s like talking to a brick wall. Only one with more empathy.

Realizing I’m not getting anywhere and won’t, I stand and cross to the door, my mind a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts. As I’m turning the knob, Callum calls my name.

I glance over my shoulder at him.

His voice uncharacteristically gentle, he says, “Mom isn’t the only one who doesn’t think you’re a dim bulb.” After a pause he adds, “Tater Tot likes you a lot too.”

“That dog’s been dead since we were kids.”

“Yeah, but he’s probably staring down from doggy heaven, thinking how well you turned out despite your tiny brain and lifelong allergy to common sense.”

My heart is swelling with emotion and my lips want to curve up into a smile, but I flip him off instead.

He’s an asshole, but he’s my brother, and that’s the closest thing to an admission that he loves me too that I’ll ever get.

It will probably be the last one as well, considering what I’m going to do next.