“How the hell do I know? But he took me off Raztov.”
“And that alone is enough to explore the situation,” Ki Yong said. “You may have hit on a way to benefit both of us, Dickens. Do keep me informed.” He hung up.
Dickens pressed disconnect and thrust the phone in his pocket. Arrogant son of a bitch. He disliked Ki Yong as much as he did Trask, but the Korean paid well and he'd rather deal with his icy ruthlessness than Trask's volatility. He could judge which way Ki Yong would jump, because he was always motivated by cool logic. Trask was brilliant, but vengeful men were often erratic, and Dickens distrusted unpredictability. Dickens couldn't see where Trask was leading him, and if he wasn't careful, the bastard could get him killed.
Like tonight.
He parked the car and sat there looking at the row of deserted warehouses that lined the street. Two were condemned, and he'd be lucky not to have the floor give way and send him crashing into the basement.
What the hell was he doing here, anyway?
Doing what that crazy bastard told him to do. He got out of the car and headed for the first warehouse. Get it over with and get out.
This couldn't go on. He needed to put an end to being at Trask's beck and call. He had to find a way to serve Trask up to Ki Yong on a silver platter, line his own pockets, and get out.
But to do that he might have to find a way to stake out Kerry Murphy for Trask. . . .
Why do you hate your father?” Silver picked a blade of grass and chewed thoughtfully on it.
“I don't hate him. I just don't like him.” Kerry looked out at the lake. “And you should know why I'm not fond of him. He stuck me in that asylum.”
“You didn't like him before that. Your relationship with him has always been troubled.”
“Not all children get along with their parents.”
“But you're very affectionate. You believe in maintaining family ties. You forgave your brother. Why not your father?”
“I'd rather not talk about it.”
“Okay, then just think about it.”
She looked at him in exasperation. “That's the same thing as—” His expression was alight with mischief, and she found herself smiling grudgingly. “Stay out of my business, Silver. I don't want my relationship with him glued back together.”
“Why not? Don't you think you should ask yourself that question?”
“No.” She rolled over and sat up. “I think I should ask you why you seem happy to lie around and ask me stupid questions instead of teaching me. When are we going to make some progress?”
“This is only the third time we've been here. And I am happy.” He stretched and reached for another blade of grass. “And so are you. You like it here.”
What was not to like? Delphiniums and green grass, a glittering lake and this man who had become a part of her. “You probably brainwashed me.”
He shook his head. “You've just gotten used to me. Having me here isn't so bad, is it?”
She had gotten used to him. It was strange how comfortable she was with him now. She actually was beginning to look forward to opening her eyes and seeing him sitting by the lake and smiling at her. “Yes.”
“Liar.” He chuckled. “You like me.”
Jesus, she loved his laugh. His voice was deep, but there was a note of boyish enjoyment. “Sometimes.”
“Most of the time.”
“When you don't interfere in my business.” She frowned sternly. “Stop it and get to work.”
“I'm already working.”
She stared at him warily. “Have you been messing with me?”
“Just building a few barriers. I wanted to protect you.”
Don't soften. “Then why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”
“I didn't have to have your help. The defenses will be automatic. When you need them, they'll be there.”
“Just like that?”
He nodded. “Just like that.”
“Show me.”
“Trust me.”
“Show me. I want to see what—”
She screamed as pain tore through her.
Daddy!
Fire. Smoke.
Mama. Help Mama.
Couldn't help her. Couldn't help her. Couldn't help her.
The man was looking down at her and there was something in his hand.
No! Go away! Go away!
Gone.
“Sorry.” She opened her eyes to see Silver's face above her. “Are you okay?”
“No.” She couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks. “What the hell did you do to me?”
“I showed you,” he said simply. “I attacked and you fought back.”
“Shit.”
“You wouldn't have thanked me for being gentle. I had to hit you where it hurt.”
“You did that.” Her lips were trembling and she tried to keep her voice even. “It hurt like hell.”
“I know.” He reached out and gently touched her cheek. “But you can stop it sooner next time, now that you know you're capable of doing it.”
She drew a deep breath. “All right. You found a way to protect me, now find a way to show me how to push.”
His hand fell away from her. “You're pretty pushy as you are. You just learned something pretty darn big. Absorb it before you leap forward.”
“I don't want to absorb it. I want to build on what I've learned. Teach me.”
“I told you I wasn't certain I could help you out there.”
“Screw being certain. I've got to try to learn. Tell me how it works with you. How do you make people do what you want?”
“First, you have to make sure the subject isn't closed to you.”
“Trask isn't closed to me. He erupts like a volcano every time I'm near him.”
“Then you have to go in and block out all the distractions and try to find the path.”
“What path?”
“You'll see. When you go into the psyche, it's like a twisting tunnel with offshoots everywhere. Most of them are short and some are blocked. But there are some that go all the way to the center of influence. When you find one, settle in and start pushing. Don't try commands. Suggest.”
“Suggest what?”
“If you want him to go jump in the lake, suggest he's hot and wants to go for a swim.”