Page 2 of Magnetic Temptations
“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” he replies.
“You need to find another obsession, Dad. The way you keep tabs on your kids and wife is above and beyond lunacy.”
I swear to God if he could, he’d get all of us chipped like a damn pet. He uses Life360 as if his mission is to ensure we’re all where we’re supposed to be. It’s annoying as hell, especially since it means I’m not able to sneak around without him knowing. Even using a burner phone I’m not out of the woods, since somewhere on my car there’s a freaking tracker! I honestly don’t mind that too much because of what I do, but it’s still annoying that he knows every time I hit the liquor store for some wine.
“Look at you using your degree and psychoanalyzing your dad,” he proudly states. I graduated and earned my diploma as well as my certification a few months back.
I’ll officially walk across the stage with the rest of my class this summer. Due to my lack of a social life, I ended up with all of my credits a half semester before they did. It’s been hard for all of us to break free from each other after living in Pops’ underground town for as long as we did. Trust doesn’t come easy to any of us these days since we were so insular for so long. There are no secrets between any of us, that’s for sure.
“You need an intervention, Dad,” I berate. “Or you need to retire.” As soon as those words leave my lips I begin to panic. I can’t even imagine the lengths he’d go in his boredom to keep track of his flock.
“Bite your tongue, little lady. I’m too damn young to retire,” he snarkly responds. Stereotypical response from a hardass biker like my dad is. “Why are you so grumpy, Mane?”
“I don’t know. It could be because I’m a grown ass woman whose dad still treats her like she’s five,” I grunt out. “This is one of the reasons I moved out so that I’d have some independence and freedom from the crazy antics of you and my uncles.”
A chuckle escapes him when he asks, “What have your uncles done now?”
“Uncle Kruger came to check my tire level, after he got an alert from my car saying the air pressure was low. Care to explain to me how he’d have an app that’d give him that knowledge?”
Not only that, but why wasn’t an alert sent to me? The car’s owner! I swear to God, they probably track each pizza I order as well. My physiological profile is likely out there as well so they can ensure I’m getting enough fluids and my fat to muscle ratio is within acceptable parameters.
“I plead the fifth,” he clucks. “When it comes to your uncles, I can’t explain the shit that they do.”
“Who told Texas that I was going out of town last weekend?” I mean, don’t they remember they taught all of us kids to spot a tail? I saw him within ten minutes of leaving town.
“Your mom,” he lies, tossing her under the bus.
“Sure she did,” I huff. “Care to explain why he trailed me all the way to Brownstone and back?”
“Can’t explain something I didn’t know about, Mane.”
Even though he can’t see me, I roll my eyes while I bite back a sarcastic snort. There’s no way that my father wasn’t aware of each footstep I took last weekend. That’s what’s made it so challenging to see Mase while he’s been gone. These overprotective, hulking Neanderthals refuse to recognize that we’re all, for the most part, grown ass adults. We don’t need them guarding us from all enemies any longer. They’ve trained all of us, and we’re more than capable of handling whatever comes up without their constant interference.
“You didn’t put him on my trail?” I inquire, my tone so saccharine sweet it makes my own teeth hurt.
“I didn’t. No,” he fibs.
“If you didn’t, then who did, Dad?”
“If I had to blame anyone, I’d blame your aunt,” he accuses.
“Charlee wouldn’t do that to me and you know it,” I argue, rolling my eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, little lady,” Dad growls. “That’s the second time in minutes you’ve done such a thing. It’s rude.”
Anger rolls through me as I stand and begin looking around the room. We have cameras for our protection, but now I’m wondering if he’s installed his own or if he’s piggy backing off of ours. “Are you watching me?” I ask, my tone low and deadly.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He backtracks and suddenly becomes quiet. That’s because he knows he’s busted. “Besides, I’m a partner in Kings and have every right to know what’s going on when I’m not around.”
“A silent partner,” I snap, seething.
“My money’s not silent and neither is our transporting of your people when shit hits the fan,” he emphasizes.
“Dad,” I say, my enunciation is a warning. “Might want to think before speaking.”
“Why’s that, little lady?”
“Because I might just do this,” I explain, hanging up the receiver and flipping off the cameras. Speaking loud enough so the speakers pick up my words, I state, “I’m telling Mom!”
