Page 27 of Too Far

The only sound is my own blood whooshing in my ears.

And then that tinkling of laughter again.

God fucking dammit.

This was a trap. A fucking setup.

This meeting.

My entire life.

“Son, you know the rules. I don’t have an issue with your friends taking advantage of my goodwill and the accommodations I provide—”

My head snaps over to meet his eyes on the screen at those words.Goodwill. Accommodations. That was a veiled threat if I’ve ever heard one.

“But your roommates have signed NDAs, and they haven’t caused problems during their time at the house.”

“Josephine is not a roommate. She’s my guest.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Beside me, Misty scoffs.

Reining in my fury, I rise out of my chair. I give her my back, then cross my arms over my chest.

“It doesn’t matter what she is to me. I trust her. That’s enough.”

A low chuckle echoes through the speakers.

My dad is sitting back in his chair, looking relaxed, bored even, wearing an amused smirk.

I grit my teeth and fist my hands at my sides, wishing he were here in person so I could punch his fucking face. This was a setup. And based on his cool, calm, collected demeanor, there’s no way I’m getting out of this until he gets exactly what he wants.

“Trust is a fickle beast, though, isn’t it? It can be given freely, or it can be hard-fought and earned. But at the end of the day, it’s an illusion. A false sense of security. Blinders preventing us from seeing what’s happening right in front of us.”

He sits up straighter then, jerking his chin.

“Misty? You have the standard agreement on hand?”

“Right here!” Her response is far too chipper as she produces the requested documents.

“Is it safe to assume yourguestis there now, Decker?”

I grip the edge of the dining room table to keep myself from throwing my fist into it.

“Get her in here,” my dad demands. “Martin is a notary, and Misty can sign by proxy on my behalf.”

Shit. Not only did I walk into a setup, but I’m already caught in the snare.

Fighting is futile. Arguing will likely reveal too much about the nature of our relationship and make matters worse.

I’m trapped. Fucked. My options are to do what he says or to chew my own leg off trying to fight this.

I slide my phone out of my back pocket and pull up the text thread between the two of us.

Decker:Siren. Can you please come to the dining room ASAP?

Quickly, I pound out a second text, offering up details so she can prepare herself for what she’s about to walk into.