Page 20 of Creeping Beautiful

There’s no way I’m leaving this island without buying her.

She sets me back almost three million dollars because there are other men who want her. Men not here on the island, but who bid with proxies, and who have decided my filthy-mouthed snake bait should go home with them instead.

I consider walking away. I almost do, twice. But then I imagine that creepy little girl being out there on someone else’s team and I raise my auction paddle again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Donovan is at the party on the Company superyacht afterward. Still yucking it up with everyone, still smiling, and still creeping me out.

No one trusts the PSYOPS docs. No one. Their mission in the Company is to fuck with the heads of kids, turn them into little killers, and keep them sane until they burn out and need to be cleaned up by teams like… well, like the one I’m trying to put together, actually.

But his little I-want-to-be-a-Beverly-Hills-plastic-surgeon plan isn’t fooling me for several reasons.

One. He’s not gonna get a chance to put that plan into motion. Not the way things are now. Because plastic surgery was never his path in life and he knows it. Which means he’s either lying about his so-called dream or… he wants to take the whole thing down just to make it happen.

We have that in common. My path wasn’t the one spelled out for me either.

But he’ll be in PSYOPS, regardless.

Best-case scenario—he’s only in that line of work for several years. Then we take care of business, the Company collapses, and he’s free.

Worst case—the Company is business as usual, he stays there forever, and I’m stuck with him and the properly PSYOPS-ed little snake girl for life.

And I just don’t like that idea.

Aside from the fact that I just bought a kid in a slave auction, I also just bought a long life of… not easy. Not normal. A long life of looking over my shoulder at this girl.

Because I don’t care how well behaved they look on the outside—the Company assassins on the inside are damaged.

And this girl is no ordinary Company assassin. She’s a Zero. Like James Fenici. Like Nick Tate. Like Sasha Cherlin.

Like I almost was.

There is no way to fix the fucked-up inside this girl’s head. Not once the work has started. All you can do is manage it. And I know she’s only ten, but she’s been through some kind of training. Probably failed out of it and that’s why she’s here before her time.

I know this because I was destined for that Zero program too. And even though I can play a good game and make people think it’s all shipshape up there in my head… it’s not.

It’s all very hazy. Very messy. It’s chaos, if I’m being completely honest. And while I have no problem lying to other people—it’s not the lies we tell each other that kill us in the end. It’s the lies we tell ourselves.

So I try not to lie to myself if I can help it.

I know what I am. My head is nothing but a swirling storm of unfinished training and business.

I didn’t finish college. There were issues with me and the other kids in school. I didn’t grow up like they did. Oh, I have the same money. Same privilege. The best connections and I’m smarter than most. Not as smart as Donovan, but not many people—even specially bred ones like me—achieve that level of genius.

I was being trained by PSYOPS before my father pulled me out of the program at age ten and even though they never finished me, it was enough to keep the chaos inside me alive.

Still, I manage. I haven’t had a slip up in years now. So there’s hope, at least. A small, sliver of hope that Indie can be as normal as I am.

I almost laugh out loud when I realize I just referred to myself as normal.

No one involved in making me who I am would ever call me normal.

But at least I will get her. I will understand her. And if Donovan can unfuck her head a little, and McKay can teach her what she needs to know to get the jobs done without stealing her soul—then maybe this will turn out OK?