Hornets Nest Ch 06

---

Violet

I was going to see what David's life was like. What it really was like, not just how he behaved at university surrounded by other students. Last time I was there, I only got a glimpse.

We didn't take a train that time. Amelia was in a nearby town for something to do with work, so late afternoon she arrived with Zack's car to pick us up. She was dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, relatively low heels clicking the floor, hair tied up high atop her head. Wherever she had been, appearances must have mattered. Our suitcases, and a few other boxed things, were packed up and loaded in.

The first amusing thing of that 'holiday' happened when David, out of nowhere, asked, "Can I drive?"

Amelia looked at him for a moment with her brows raised, then handed him the keys and got into the passenger side. Wesley clambered into the back beside me.

"How rusty are you?" Amelia asked.

"Very," David replied. He started the engine and left it chugging away while he fidgeted around with the seat and mirrors. He gave a nonchalant, leftwards glance before lifting the handbrake and turning out of the parking space into the road.

He braked sharply when Amelia scoffed and gave his shoulder a back-handed slap. He frowned at her and made a point of looking out the rear window before continuing his turn into the empty street.

"Do you want to be marked on performance?" she asked.

"No, Mum. Please don't."

She did it anyways, and they bickered the whole drive while Wesley chuckled away. She scolded him every time he was in the wrong gear, and leant across to flick on the indicator when he didn't do it himself, hazardously switching lanes on the motorway.

"Are you even looking, David?"

He chuckled. "Mum."

"What if a motorbike comes shooting up here a hundred-and-fifty miles an hour?"

"They shouldn't be going that fast."

"Yes, but you still shouldn't hit them."

"It's true," I said, leaning against the back of David's seat. My mum always liked to complain about ignorant car drivers.

"Listen to the women, Dave," Wesley chipped.

He let out another chuckle of defeat, and carefully checked the mirrors and indicated that time, moving across the lanes for a junction.

Amelia looked around and gave me a grin. "Sorry. You must think I'm so strict. I'm just doing my part to make sure there's no more crashes in this family."

"Had some, then?"

"A couple."

"Yeah," David said. "Tyler totaled his car when I was, like... what was I? Five or six?"

"Yes," Amelia said.

"And Darren totaled a Lamborghini before I was born."

"Wow," I said.

"Yes," Amelia agreed. "Wow."

"Tyler also had that accident a few years back," Wesley added.

"Yes, but that wasn't his fault," Amelia replied. "A big car," she looked at David, "very much like this one, went right into the back of him."

David scoffed at her accusing tone. "Then that crash where he nearly died wasn't his fault either."

"He was still speeding."

"Tell it to Wes. Says he's finally gonna get his license this summer."

Amelia swiveled and looked over her seat at him. "You're going to have a crash."

"

What?

" Welsey yelped, and erupted with incredulous laughter. "Holy shit! I will if you fucking go jynxing me!"

"If Tyler's your idol of course you're going to crash."

"Fuck off, Mum. I might like how sports cars look, all right, but Dave's the speed freak."

Amelia sighed in agreement. David was focusing on the road and only offered one of his goofy grins in response.

We were right on time to catch some rush-hour traffic when we reached their home town. Everything crawled for a stretch, but we arrived at the house by 6pm sharp. The front door opened to an interior that already smelt like dinner was cooking.

Things were lugged and carried upstairs while a tottering Hanna got in the way, then we moved through to the lounge.

I felt different looking at Zack, knowing what I knew. He seemed quite at home in his shirt and trousers, this nice big house, being the father figure of this family. But it wasn't always that way, was it? I was trying to picture him as a child, as a teenager. What had he done, what had they

made

him do? I knew how it was. Anything similar to my parents? How many dead bodies had he seen? Made any himself?

He knew my eyes were lingering on him, and looked around. I desperately wanted to avert my gaze, but found myself stuck, like I was caught red-handed. We shared what seemed too long of a cold stare. His expression was dark, but empty. My heartrate involuntarily picked up, a similar reaction to knowing someone was about to start on me, not the happy fluttering David gave me.

We probably both felt like whoever looked away first was the loser.

Zack lost, because Wesley spoke to him and drew his gaze.

"Dad."

"What?"

"I love you."

Wesley seized him in enough of a boisterous hug to make him stagger, and the dark expression cracked into a grin.

Apparently, dinner was Wesley's favourite.

*

The first two weeks were spent lazing around. David wanted time to relax and unwind, even if I started to get a little bored and restless after ten days of it. He slept, woke up, made love to me, ate, then slept again. I spent quite a lot of time on his computer playing various games, and asked if he had a porn collection I could look through, for potential inspiration. He told me to check his favourites. Mostly lesbian stuff. Boring.

Wesley wasn't anywhere near as inactive, getting up early every morning and keeping to whatever it was that he decided he would do. He liked to knock on David's door somewhere around 8am every day.

"Rise and shine, bitches!"

It wasn't always enough to wake me, but David hollering profanities back was.

When Wesley was out, Hanna was at school, and his parents were at work, we had the house to ourselves for a chunk of the day. We didn't quite walk around naked, but still, it was one of the most strangely relaxing and intimate situations I'd experienced. That household could be so loud when everyone was there, and eerily quiet when they were gone. I suppose it was a bit like a glimpse into the future. Was this what it would be like? I'd be successful, and live in a nice big house, and marry David?

I made sure to explore every corner of that house. I felt like a little kid again, sitting on the carpet in a warm ray of early summer sunshine, looking through a cabinet full of glassware. David would sometimes come looking for me, find me, call me terrible, then leave me to it.

Everything was interesting.

I had just enough respect to leave Amelia and Zack's bedroom alone, but I decided to wind up Wesley, and gave him a running commentary about the interior of his room through a series of texts.

"Bitch get out," was his response.

"Make me."

What I hadn't known, was that he was down the road, ten minutes away from the house. I heard the front door opening and somehow knew it was him, and tried to flee the scene of the crime. He came rushing up the stairs, three steps at a time with his lanky legs, and collided with me on the landing, knocking me clean to the floor.

I was laughing too much to do anything about it. I curled into a ball and hoped he wouldn't hurt me.

"What have you done?" he said, quickly getting to his feet. "What did you touch?"

David's room door opened. "Wes, what the fuck?"

"Vi," Wesley called, from now inside his room. "Did you move anything? You don't get it, everything has to stay right where I left it, or I lose everything!"

I leant against the doorframe and watched in amusement. I'd switched his socks and underwear drawers around. He took a moment to realise, going between them again, before bursting into laughter and throwing a scrunched sock at me. Which hit me right in the forehead.

"Dave," he scolded. "She's fucking bored. Entertain her, take her for walks. She's gonna be chewing up the sofa next."

"Or I can get a crate and lock her in it," David replied.

I growled at him. It came out surprisingly throaty and feral, and must have been the funniest thing ever because they both laughed like it was. David cupped my cheek and kissed me.

He perked up a little after that. Wesley didn't knock the following morning, but I awoke quite early by myself. David still appeared unconscious, his back to me. I spooned him and raked my fingers through the hair on his chest until he stirred, and grumbled something incoherent.

I kissed his shoulder. "Wake up."

"Hhffgrm."

"Is that so?"

His hand lifted to his face and rubbed his eyes, then he rolled onto his back. "I love you."

"Okay. That's nice, but I want you to wake up."

He grinned while his eyes stayed shut. He was a cuddly teddy bear when he was drowsy. I stroked my hand up and down his chest and stomach, waiting for a response from him. Nothing.

"Has this year really been so exhausting?"

He grunted, fidgeted a bit more. "It's been... intense."

"Mm-hm?"

"Mentally, physically. Emotionally." His eyes finally opened and regarded me with an affectionate smile.

I smiled back. "You're a lazy cunt."

He chuckled and stretched with one of his rumbling growls.

"I'm going down town today," I continued. "And if you're not taking me I'll find my own way."

"Okay."

He did get out of bed, and shortly after we hit the streets. When the sun is high, when the weather is warm, I'm at my best. I like things bright and bold. I think I'm like a plant. I photosynthesise. I can have the worst possible day, but the dappled shadows of sunlight through the green leaves of trees can always pick me up.

I also liked how David looked when he wasn't padded out in winter clothes. His hair had grown out, to an extent, and it didn't seem to know what to do with itself, falling in chaotic tufts over his forehead, framing his temples, some bits tucking behind his ears. It was a bit like his beard. He made scruffy look good.

We did end up climbing around in some back alleys. It was like a fever, and I'd successfully passed it to David. When you know you can do something, you see no reason not to do it. When you've broken down the walls and psychological barriers that tell you 'no', nothing stops you. And when you've escaped consequence numerous times, like me, you develop this unwavering confidence in yourself, that you can get out of anything.

I revelled in whatever sensations of freedom I could get.

*

Wesley received a phonecall during a Saturday dinner. He scraped his chair back while frowning at the screen, and walked out to the lounge to take it. Everyone fell silent to eavesdrop.

"Uh-huh... Yes... Okay, that's great... Yes, thank you." He came back in with a little jump and massive grin. "I got an interview!"

"For what?" Zack asked.

"Waiter."

"So that's why you plucked your eyebrows?"

"Really, Dad? Gonna pull that shit on me?"

"Well if looking good gets you the job, am I right?"

"The manager

is

a woman, I'll have you know."

Both David and Amelia cracked up, and Hanna giggled. I was never sure if she caught on to the jokes, or only laughed because everyone else did.

"What about you?" Amelia asked, looking straight at David.

He looked back with a mouthful of food and spoke through it. "What?"

"Any plans to actually do something productive?"

"Oh, fuck off."

She let out another tinkle of laughter.

"I have a guest to entertain," David continued.

"Well, you can always come down to the complex and make yourself useful. Good work experience."

David grinned. "It doesn't count, Mum. What do I put on my CV? That I made coffee for my mother in her office?"

She sighed at him as if it was a conversation they'd had before. "Maybe Vi would like to see it?"

I was glad she seemed to read my mind. I still found myself being very quiet, never voicing opinions, perhaps out of the concern that I'd say something wrong. I wouldn't know what was wrong to say until I said it, and that was the problem.

If I burned with intense curiosity over a simple house, I hope it's understandable what an entire company complex did to me.

That Monday we were up early, taking a lift with Zack while Amelia took Hanna to school. The complex was out the edges of town, as if eating up its own acres of countryside.

It wasn't so enormous. In fact, it was unassuming, the type of thing people would pass by and not think twice about. It wasn't plastered with logos of the company's name, there didn't look to be any information at all. It simply looked three generic office buildings. With somewhat of a labyrinth of car parks.

There wasn't an overwhelming amount of security either, but some subconscious part of me was trained to look for it. There were gates to get through with the car. The grounds were subtly fenced in. Zack steered through with easy familiarity, ending up at whatever his 'space' was beside a certain building.

David looked over the passenger seat with a grin, probably trying to determine my reactions. I smiled back with a shrug.

"It's actually a bit bigger than it looks," he said. "The labs are all underground."

I undid my seatbelt and reached for the door, but Zack opened it from the outside before my hand touched the handle. I wasn't sure whether it was a friendly gesture, or domineering. As usual, there was nothing to his expression to give it away.

I quietly burned with excitement while I followed them across the carpark. We were relatively early, so there were some keys into doors, then further inside there were electric locks. Shouldn't have been surprised at the techy feel for what was, in all basic forms, a tech company. We took corridors, one flight of stairs, then a lift. Zack's office was on the top floor of the building, as if in appropriate hierarchy.

It was open, spacious, with a nice overlooking view of greenery outside. And very tidy. Not even in the manner of someone who was naturally tidy, but of someone who made the effort to ensure everything was kept in the right place at all times. Maybe that was where Wesley got it from.

Zack retrieved something for David from a drawer - some kind of ID tag, and some keys. Both went into his pocket. Zack crossed his arms to lean against his desk and we stood there, chatting, in a three-way conversation. David and Zack discussed the layout of the complex, and Zack kept asking me questions. Suddenly we were talking about my parents.

David didn't react in the slightest as I spouted my bullshit 'sales' story again. Just as well, because I was supposed to be good at this sort of thing, and I was struggling. I threaded in a lot of truth, as if it would ease my burden, legitimately talking about the towns we had moved between, and I successfully shifted the conversation onto that. It was difficult to say what I wanted to say. I couldn't look at Zack without thinking things, getting distracted by my brain trying to draw lines between dots.

I wanted to ask Zack about the cartel so badly the curiosity was almost physically painful.

The door opened at some point, and Darren came in. His eyebrows rose and he gave a pleasant smile, gaze darting between us. "Making yourself useful, are you?"

David grinned back. "Mum happened."

"Of course. Where's your suit?"

It was quite a stark contrast, those two in their smart suits, David and I in our jeans and hoodies.

David only chuckled. "I'm not on an internship."

"Are you sure?" Darren continued.

"Not unless you're paying me. Fucking slave labour."

Even Zack finally cracked a smile, and Darren leant against the desk beside him. There was even more chatter. Holy shit, these men could talk for days. I just wanted to get out and explore.

The office phone rang which finally broke things up. Zack answered it and was quite curt with whoever was on the other end. He thudded it back to the receiver and Darren straightened like he was about to leave.

"McMillan," he said to Zack, in a tone that suggested the one word was supposed to say ten.

"What now?"

"It's McMillan, what do you think? Will you call him for me today?"

Zack gave him such a jaded look it almost reminded me of when someone told my father there was a body. "Have you emailed me a script?"

"Oh, Zack, use your imagination."

David chuckled and Darren smirked, but Zack sat down in his chair with a heavy sigh, like Mondays were just the worst. Darren took his leave and David headed for the door as well.

"Catch you later, Dad."

Zack grunted. "Don't get into trouble."

I trotted behind David into the corridor. "Who's McMillan?"

"I don't know, some longterm client. First he argued with Mum, then he argued with Dad, then he argued with Darren. They always try to pawn him off on each other whenever they have to deal with him." He took my hand. "Come on, I'm gonna give you a tour."

"Are you allowed everywhere?"

"Sort of. A lot of people here know who I am."

I felt so out of place, and I didn't even care. I was some guest, in this strange new environment, and completely free to explore.

David was the best tour guide ever. "Over here they do stuff, and over here they do more stuff."

"Wow, you know your shit, don't you?"

The whole complex wasn't only offices, and we had to reach something more interesting eventually. We passed corridors through the levels, passed rooms designed for slightly different purposes. David always chose stairs over lifts. He explained how one building was for 'internal', and one was for 'external'. I didn't exactly understand but I nodded anyway.

We went outside and across a carpark to reach the third building, right at the back of the complex. It looked just as unassuming as the others, but David seemed more in a hurry for this one. We passed out of the sunshine into a chilly shadow, straight up to a pair of thick, double glass doors. They almost looked as though you were supposed to push through them, but David stopped at a number pad and punched something in. The doors didn't open outwards or inwards, they slid aside.

Something about the interior seemed quiet, almost peaceful. There weren't all the subtle noises of knowing people were in every room we passed. David led me along, perfectly certain of where he was going. Once again we went to the top floor. He stopped at a door along a spacious corridor, slamming down the handle and shoving it open without knocking.

"Tyler."

The figure in the chair jumped. "Jesus, kid."

Tyler removed glasses from his face and briefly rubbed his eyes. A white lab coat was draped over the back of his chair. I tried to see what was on the computer screen - emails, or something. Not very interesting.

"Why are you here?" Tyler continued.

"Being useful," David replied.

"Okay, you know how I like my coffee."

"Fuck off." David leant on his desk. "Can we see the labs?"

Tyler gave a smug smirk and sat back in his chair. They stared at each other for a second. David couldn't keep a straight face.

"You're a prick, Tyler."

"Coffee, then labs."

"Or I can cut off your hand."

"Good luck with that."

David chuckled and headed out. Tyler flashed me a grin, then the glasses went back on as he returned to the screen.

There was a room further down the corridor, a sitting area filled with sofas, and it had kitchen facilities. David made three mugs of coffee, differently for each of us, and raided a cupboard for biscuits. This place was like some second home to him.

There was more talking in Tyler's office. He wanted to finish whatever email he was typing up, which was fair enough, but David wouldn't shut up and kept distracting him and made it take twice as long.

"It's boring at the moment," Tyler said. "There's nothing going on."

David frowned "Why?"

"Project finished, and we're waiting on your mother for the next one."

"What about the military stuff? Classified?"