Seventeen - Push or Pull?

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Chapter Seventeen

Push or Pull?

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When Boey arrived home he found me tensely sitting in the foyer, dangerously still. He raised a questioning brow at me and gestured the two men with him to move on to the meeting room.

“You look ready to pounce,” he said, no emotions in his tone. I don’t think I was quite forgiven for my escape attempt.

I twisted my lips into a scowl. I’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Dante had been threatened with. A secret. A secret Boey knew of. Dante was somehow important, perhaps even more important than his ruthless brother.

“Dante has been taken to the hospital.”

Not even a flicker of concern showed on his face. Damn, I had wanted him to look at least hesitant.

“How does that affect you?” he asked coldly.

I glared. “He was standing up for me when Rowan decked him.” I twisted the truth slightly, although Dante had drawn Rowan’s attention away from me. Kind of.

Boey, looking bored, retrieved his phone from his pocket and called someone on speed dial. His gaze pinned me in place as he spoke to someone on the other end.

“Yes… yes… yes… See you soon.”

Riveting one-sided conversation.

He pocketed the phone. “Stay where you are.”

“Uhh…” I lifted my hands and looked around. Did it seem like I was going somewhere?

“Stay,” he commanded. “Your saviour will be returning soon. I want you to tell him to report straight to me.”

I stood to attention mockingly. “Sir, yes, s—”

Quit it!” The Boss cut me off and was suddenly inches away, his finger nearly poking out my eye. “You’ve been spoilt, Orphan, but don’t think to disrespect me in my own house.” His face was a harsh mask of frustration and I knew I’d finally pushed him into losing his temper.

I gave him look for look. I realised that he didn’t intimidate me like he used to, or was it that I no longer cared?  I wanted out of the games and politics of being a prodigy shooter. And then, for some reason, I saw Dante in my mind, and imagined him telling me that I wasn’t the type of person to just give up. The bastard and his philosophies were getting to me. I looked down, though kept my chin up. I wasn’t defeated, but I wouldn’t challenge him now.

“I understand it’s in your nature and I’ve put up with it. You’re stubborn and driven, and you take orders like you’re doing a favour.” Boey’s voice had lowered and I could feel him standing over me, though I refused to look back into his eyes. “I’ve no wish to smother you but I have given you slack when I clearly should’ve tightened the leash.”

I felt a tightening in my stomach, knowing he had a point. As an orphan, someone he’d saved from living in the more destitute areas, I’d always been grateful towards him. But now I was feeling the freedom he’d given me was the prize before the project. Every day I’d taken my relaxed lifestyle for granted was a day I would have to repay him in work. He’d given me a taste of the lazy life and now I wanted the whole cake.

But I wasn’t a glutton. I had to ration from now on.

“I apologise, boss,” I said, the words nearly catching as my throat tried to cut them off. “I owe you my respect.”

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