Heat (The Stark Affair Book 1) (3 page)

I
bite my lower lip and put my hands on my hips.

“Kristy,
I like you. I really do. I just...
haven’t
had much
luck with relationships. And I don’t know if I’m ready for...”

“For
what? For a real relationship?”

“No.
No! That’s not it. It just... I’m not... I still...”

She
throws her big purple satchel with a yellow peace sign over her shoulder while
slipping on her sandals.

“
Sofe
, it’s my fault. I get too attached. Always happens. I
need to go before I get my heart broken again.”

“So
this is goodbye? Just like that?”

“No
..
.
yes
... maybe. I just need to go
right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

I
move to kiss her but she shuffles past me and is out the door.

And
I breathe.

Was
that a sigh of relief?

Shit,
I think it was.

Chapter
4

Colton

100mph.

Ha!

I’m
on Alligator Alley heading east into the homestretch. I downshift as I see some
red
tail lights
ahead, dropping to 80.

Other
people, really. Don’t they know my Bentley and I own this road?

Not
kidding either. Stark Worldwide owns South Florida.
Since the
1960s when my dad started it.

So,
if I have so much power... if I’m captain of such a huge juggernaut of a
capitalist beast machine... why am I out here alone playing daredevil speed games?

Question
of my life.

I
blast past the rest area.
Nothing but darkness ahead.

I
love it out here. Nothing but
me, the cypresses, and the
alligators.

One
of these nights, I’m going to lose control and end up in the ditch.

Fine.

Who
cares? My life is worth nothing anyway. Sure I’ve got billions of dollars, but
so what?
It’s all controlled by Jasper and the board
.

I’m
a prisoner of Dear, Dead Daddy’s outrageous success. Success as a cutthroat
businessman, that is.
Certainly not as a father.

I
rev the Bentley. The needle springs above 100.

How
fast can I take it? 105, 110...

Let’s
push it.

115.

Now we’re talking, baby! Ha
ha
!

I
could easily make one little twist of the wheel at this speed. That’s all it
would take. Just one little twist and I’d be flipping.

Crashing.

Burning.

Dead.

I
floor it.

118...

119...

C’mon
120, baby, c’mon.

Then
I get a flash of The Talon Group... my protégés. If I flipped and died in a
blaze of glory out here, what would happen to The Talon Group?
My little army.
What then?

They’re
the only
thing
that keeps me going.
The
only reason for my continued existence.

I
need to build a contingency plan for them, don’t I? Damn right, I do.

I
smell rubber as the needle edges over 120.

I
laugh out loud.

“One
twenty, baby!” I scream into the night.

I
downshift as I near Weston, the lights of urban sprawl in the distance. I take
I-595 to the Pike south to I-95.

The
Miami skyscrapers on my right glow with bright promise as I cross the Tuttle.

Magic
City.

Yeah,
right.

More
like a big, neon prison to me.

As I
coast in and blend with the regular folk traffic, I make a decision.

Once
I finish training The Talon Group for their mission, I’m going to activate my
secret “Self-Detonation”
plan
.

It’s
all on a hidden USB flash drive in a non-descript little Key Largo house that
nobody knows I own. Go-Fast boat docked outside with a Canadian passport in a
fake name all ready for Havana. Camouflage covering it, just waiting for me.
All I need to do is plug in the flash drive and
..
.

Boom!

A
disappearing act for Colton Stark.
A nuclear
detonation, self-destruction, go-down-in-fucking-flames plan for Jasper van
der
Voort
and Stark Worldwide.

Then
I escape. All tracks covered. Disappear into South America to a jungle village.
Marry a sweet Latina girl. Live in a tiny shack the rest of my life. No
Bentley, no mansion, no yacht.
Just lots of sex and babies.

But
not quite yet.
I have a couple more missions for The Talon
Group.

So tonight,
I’ll just do what I always do. Meet with the crusty old Board at the Gold Club,
then head over to
SoBe
, find some dumb party girl
with caramel skin, thick lips, and a
plowable
round
ass.
Wonder who she’ll be tonight.

I
pull into the Gold Club. The valet takes my car. I drop him a C-note.

I
hate the Gold Club.
Ugly old men with paunchy bellies and
$5,000 cigars.
Don’t they know the
surgically-enhanced
blondes that sit on their laps are nothing but vapid gold-diggers?

Of
course they do.

But
they don’t care.

“Colton!”
says a voice near the entrance to the Restoration Room.

I turn
to see the crown prince of Gold
Clubbery
himself,
Jasper van
der
Voort
.

Oh,
he’s epic tonight!
A flowing white shirt that’s half pirate
costume, half superhero cape.
I stifle a laugh.

I
look around for Hector. Where is he? There he is. Standing off to the side,
waiting to protect his lord and master.

Hector
looks like he’s made of rock. Not just any rock. The kind you see along the
walls of the mesas in Monument Valley. Weathered. Rough. Indestructible. He
speaks about as much too.

Wonder
how much Jasper pays him to protect his body.
And from whom.

“Jasper,”
I say as he puts his arm around me. A cold chill travels down my spine.

“Come
outside,” he says.

We
walk outdoors into the hot night. It’s October but summer is hanging on. One of
these days, soon, we’ll get that first clear crisp sunny day full of winter
promise.

The
pool area at the Gold Club has a spectacular view of Miami Beach. The blondes
are out in full force tonight. Hair all done up, wearing glittery dresses that
sparkle in the outdoor lights. They
wow
and
ooh
in all the right places while
old men in expensive South Florida leisure suits tell tall tales.

Later,
the girls will let the slimy saggy scumbags fuck them. Then they’ll get a
Maserati
or a personal credit line for their willingness to
spread their legs. I saw a guy give a house to a girl here one night, no joke.
That’s how rich these assholes are.

“You
know, you’ve come a long way, Colton,” says Jasper as a puff of cigar smoke
wafts into my face. “Your father wasn’t sure you would be able to channel your
energies. All that boxing crap you used to be into. But when I saw your
presentation today in front of the Board, I was impressed. I’d even go so far
as to say you’ve become like a son to me.”

I
shudder with disgust, but only on the inside. I picture my secret USB flash drive
in its Key Largo hiding place, full of destructive power. The thought comforts
me.

“Thanks,
Jasper. But really, I did that in my sleep. It’s easier than you think to run
circles around our competition. Just takes some vision and a little algorithmic
beauty.”

We
reach a sofa at the edge of the outdoor patio. Gold drapes are set up with
candles on a low table.

Jasper
sits on one of the couches in a leisurely way, with one leg tucked up under
him. I notice his white pants are shiny.

I
sit like a man on the opposing chair. I notice Hector has followed us, now
standing off to the side looking out at the ocean.

A waiter
with a black moustache in a white tuxedo appears from nowhere and bows.

“Good
evening, Mr. van
der
Voort
and Mr. Stark,” he says. “Your usual drinks tonight?”

“No,
Orlando,” says Jasper, “tonight is special. Bring me a 1965
Macallan
.”

Orlando
beams like he’s having an orgasm.

“Wonderful
choice, Mr. van
der
Voort
.
Mr. Stark?”

“The
usual, Orlando,” I say.

“Yes,
sir.”

“Oh,
you know what? Tonight, make it two.”

“Yes,
sir.”

He
slinks away faster than he appeared.

Jasper
turns to me. “Colton, you seem a little frustrated lately. Is everything going
well for you running your private little playground over there?”

Jasper
got widow’s peaks young. Now that he’s in his sixties, they’re two racetracks
with a thin tuft of black-gray hair in the center, slicked back. His gray eyes
sit at the bottom of two sunken pools of darkness under a vast forehead.

“No,”
I say. “Everything is super-fan-
tabulous
, Jasper. Why
do you ask?”

He
stares off at the ocean while puffing on his cigar.

“Colton,
I like you. You have demonstrated a strong sense of maturity lately. Much more
centered.”

“I
have a new hobby,” I say as I picture the faces of The Talon Group.

“Really?
What might that be?”

“I’ve
started a super-secret organization to take over the world. Training some young
soldiers to march forth and dominate. They’re very good.”

I
smile. Jasper’s eyes drill into me, then he laughs.

“You
know, you almost had me there for a second.”

I
give him a fake laugh. Oh, if only he knew.

“But
seriously, Colton, you and I need to talk. Now that you’re approaching an age
where the partying of youth is beginning to dull, I’d like to discuss your
future.”

My
stomach turns on its side. I had always known this conversation was coming, but
I never knew when.

Orlando
arrives with our drinks. Once he’s gone, I throw down my first shot of Dos
Lunas
tequila.

“My
future?” I say.

“Yes.
As you well know, because you’re the sharpest tool in the shed, not everything
with Stark Worldwide is one hundred percent what it appears.”

Oh, this is rich!

“Hadn’t
noticed,” I say.

“Sarcasm.
You’re good at sarcasm. I like that. Your father built Stark Worldwide on...
well, let’s say, some tainted money.”

“Again,
hadn’t noticed.” I smile.

Jasper’s
face turns deadly serious.

“Colton,
it’s time I begin to hand the reins over to a new emperor.”

Did
he just say emperor? I stifle a chuckle.

“There
are many aspects to Stark Worldwide that you may not be aware of... but it’s
time that I take the chance and get you more involved.”

Yep,
this is it.

Funny,
I’ve waited for this moment for all of my life. I always wanted it out in the
open... with my father, or with van
der
Voort
, or with somebody.

Now
that it’s being thrown out there bald and naked, I’m almost numb. Like I’m
watching this entire interaction on a movie screen as a non-involved observer.

“Colton,
there’s somebody I’d like you to meet. He’s a vital part of Stark Worldwide and
he’s visiting Miami on Monday.”

“First-class
from Colombia?”

Jasper
sips his scotch and looks at me, then puffs on his cigar.

“Colton,
I know more about you than you think I do.”

An
alarm bell goes off in my head. What does that mean?

“In
fact,” he continues, “you and I are very much alike.”

An
eruption of bile comes up from my stomach. My right hand clenches into a fist.

Steady, Colton, steady.

I
glance over at Hector, calmly staring out at the ocean. Looks like he’s
preoccupied with it, but I know he sees everything. One word from Jasper and
Hector would slit my throat like he’s making breakfast.

“I
figured out what my dad was doing when I was twelve,” I say.

Jasper
smiles.

“Is
that why you were so rebellious?”

I
picture my dad, heading to work while leaving me in the care of that vicious
nanny without even saying good morning.

“That
and other reasons,” I say.

“Well,
all that is over now. I want you to truly become more a part of your father’s
legacy.”

“What
if I say no?”

Jasper
turns to me with a look like I’m a pig heading to the slaughterhouse.

“You
won’t say no,” he says with a smirk.

The
tequila is hitting me, loosening up my words a bit. Got to be careful here.

“Maybe
I would, Jasper. Perhaps, however, you haven’t considered the possibility that
maybe I want out.”

“Out?”

“Yes,
out. No more Stark Worldwide. Free to be my own man.
To start
my own company.
In a different field.
With a different name.
From scratch.”