Page 86 of Broken Ties
I’m ready to be someone else, with my Bond, and fuck everyone else.
Without bothering to respond to his shit-talking, I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope packed full of hundred dollar bills. His eyes light up at the sight of it, practically snatching it out of my hands, and my stomach tightens at the almost manic sheen to them. I ignore it and remind myself that this is all for my Bond.
As he opens it with a low whistle, he practically bounces on the spot like some giddy preschooler and the rowdy crowd behind him quiets down, as if the presence of money has subdued them. There’s a shuffling noise and then another guy appears in the door frame. He looks like he’s in his forties, shorter than I am but at least six feet tall, and there are oil stains on his jeans that are probably older than me. There’s nothing threatening about him but there’s a gleam in his eyes that predators have when they’re sizing up their prey. I’d bet double that envelope’s worth of cash that he’s a Shifter, withouthesitation. As he stares me down with a look on his face that’s as dumb as rocks, I only get more sure I’m right.
I’ve never met a Shifter who isn’t a brain-dead fucking idiot.
He sneers at the look I’m giving him. “I can’t believe that blue-blooded fuck allowed his kid to wander down here to play with us plebs… or does he not know? Oh, what a naughty boy you are, Bassinger, to come looking for Maxim without your daddy knowing about it.”
Yep, he’s an absolute dumbass.
There’s a chuckle around the room in response. I raise my eyebrows at the Shifter as he smirks at his own joke, like he’s some genius. Maybe he doesn’t understand what he’s implying, or maybe his life is that shit that he can’t afford pride.
As he takes the envelope from the first guy, it’s clear his morals already have a price.
My gaze drops down to watch as he starts counting the money, right there in front of me. No Top Tier Gifted would openly paw through a bribe like that, no matter the circumstances, and it’s just another reminder of where I am and what I’m doing.
When I don’t give him an answer to his bullshit probing, the asshole’s smirk only grows wider. “So this is the kind of trouble Top Tier brats get into these days? Fuck, we used to run riot way back when, but I guess it’s nothing on the shit you Tops are capable of.”
It’s not hard to look down my nose at this asshole, but it’s got nothing to do with the Gifted community’s obsession with Tier systems and family names. It’s the sadistic glint to his eye that’s impossible to miss, familiar to me in a way that burns the discomfort from my gut until I forget I ever felt it in the first place.
With an arrogance that only a Bassinger could wield as though it was a Gift, the tone I level at him can only be described as ‘too affluent to care’. “I’ll see Maxim now.”
No question, no biting back, no request that gives them even a drop of autonomy, just what I’ll have.
It lands like a blow; manic eyes glowing brighter, a ripple of disbelief working its way through the rest of the Gifted if the gasps and unhappy murmurs are any indication. Then, there’s the sound of another door opening and everything freezes in place. It’s creepy as hell, the way there’s suddenly complete silence, it’s as if the entire shipping yard stops breathing, stops existing, thanks to whoever the hell just walked into that tiny office.
It has to be Maxim, the Neuro I just paid a king’s ransom to.
After a moment of this terrified standstill, just long enough that I’m certain he’s doing it on purpose and getting off on it like a sick fuck, the newcomer speaks. “Move, Ivan. He’s paid his price and you should’ve known better to play with a blue-blood like him. Age has nothing on legacy and birthright, does it, Bassinger?”
My body turns to stone as my instincts scream at me to run.
I still haven’t even laid eyes on the man and yet I already know this is not a Gifted I want to interact with in any way. Even my bond is thrumming in my chest as though it’s been woken, and that’s not usually how bonds work. It’s not what he’s saying, or even the derision dripping from his tone, but the thread of power that practically vibrates through every word.
I might’ve inherited my father’s Gift, but I was primarily raised by my Neuro mother and I’ve heard that particular sound a million times in my life. I know exactly what it means. If the rumors of what Maxim can do are true, which I already know they are, then he’s already in the minds of the Gifted standing around us and there’s a good chance he’s already feeling myown defenses out. My mom would call him uncouth to his face, but I’ve never met a Neuro who didn’t immediately test those Gifted around them to see what secrets they could uncover, and my mom was no different, only she’s strong enough to go mostly undetected.
It’s how my own barriers got so strong in the first place.
Oblivious to the complete meltdown going on inside my head, Ivan shoots me one last petulant look before he steps aside, jerking his head at the homeless-looking man to get him moving as well. The way they’ve been subdued so instantly, cowed by this Gift’s appearance alone, would have me laughing in their faces any other day.
Not today, though.
Not with my escape to my Bond on the line, because if this doesn’t work, I can’t go to her without risking leading my father and Silas Davies back to her, and I would never allow that to happen.
Maxim steps out of the office but he doesn’t immediately acknowledge me or even look at me. Instead, he gestures for the others to leave us, shutting the door firmly behind them until it’s just the two of us standing there. When he does finally look up at me, it’s not the careful sizing up that the others did. He just stares at me and waits.
I can’t help but stare back at him like an idiot.
A full foot shorter than me, he’s thinner than I am, no muscle on his frame at all, and yet there’s no world in which anyone could say he lacked presence. It’s as though his Gift is standing in the room with us, despite the fact that his eyes are barely glowing. My mom has mastered that skill as well, building up a tolerance threshold so her eyes no longer glow when she’s using low levels of power. She can bend the minds around her to believe her manipulation as the truth, and without the surefire sign of her Gift in action, no one ever suspects her.
I wonder if she learned it from him, or if he did from her? Maxim is the same age as my mom, they attended Basell together, and I first heard his name from her.
She would drop dead on the spot if she knew I was standing here with him.
“I suppose you’re eager to get this over with and be on your way, but I have to warn you… what you’re asking me to do isn’t something to take lightly. My Gift may seem just like any other Neuro’s, maybe a little stronger, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
I shake my head at him. “I never thought it was. I sought you out specifically, I know what I’m asking for, so spare me the warnings. I don’t need them.”