The Diamond Spy

Ch.15 Little Genius

Little Genius

I'm sitting on one of the comfortable leather black seats of STRIKE with the wig in-between Dale and I. Dale is sitting behind Serge's driver's seat while I sit fiddling with the guard uniform, considering whether or not to take it off because I was uncomfortably hot with my jeans and white top underneath. However, I choose to do nothing for the moment and just listen. I am being ignored as they converse while driving away from the Preventative Care unit.

"A stop over first, huh?" Serge responds to Dale, who is reclining in his seat with a somber look on his face.

"School's over, we'll give Casey a ride home," Dale suggests lightly.

"Doesn't he usually walk home, boss?" Serge asks, carefully and rightfully so. Dale instantly becomes impatient, leaning forward with a growl vibrating from the back of his throat.

"I'm quite aware of his activities, now drive us to Quarter Gate High School," Dale commands this while I sit back and quietly assess his quick anger with narrowed eyes.

"High school?" I ask, I can't contain myself. I was far too curious, "But Casey is just a kid, he looks about, what, eight?"

"Nine," Dale turns to me and corrects my statement.

"So... high school?" I repeat, raising my brows.

"He was born intellectually superior," Dale explains arrogantly, "Now watch that mouth of yours kitten, did I say you could speak?"

I instantly blush. However, it is from anger, not guilt.

"Well, I wasn't aware I had to sit quietly in a corner and only speak when I'm spoken to!" I snarl back and I'm swiftly taken aback by the ferocity in my own tone. I could only put it down to frustration. My back was still tense and my shoulders sore from my recently restrained arms.

I was touchy.

A silence descends between the three of us. Serge gives me a cocked, questioning brow through the rear-view mirror while Dale doesn't hesitate to react. He grabs the wig from the middle seat, throws it into the front and then unclips his seat belt.

I shuffle back into my seat further, suddenly filled with nervous anxiety because I had no idea what he wanted to do.

With one move he is in the middle seat, right next to me, and his arm snakes out around the back of my shoulders until his palm is cupping the back of my head, forcing me to face him. The touch makes my spine tingle, because I was never used to anyone setting a hand anywhere near or on my head.

My whole life no one had been able to.

Dale changed that.

"If I wish it, sweet thing," he growls, strangely calmly, "You won't make a noise, you won't move, you won't step out of line and you won't defy me. You've come into this position unknowing of who exactly you're dealing with. Don't provoke me into teaching you a lesson you won't forget."

I go quiet, my body trembling with his words. My soul was agitated by his tone and his arrogance. He treated me like I was subordinate. I knew he was the Lord of the Underworld but I was trying to help him, so I wanted some respect.

"Somehow, I doubt you would have let me join, nor rescued me, if you didn't appreciate something about me," I respond, carefully choosing my words.

Dale blinks and a smirk slowly firms as his hand curls through my hair like he is simply burrowing through a bed of soft feathers. His purple eyes sparkle as he gazes over my defiant features.

"Girls," Serge hisses under his breath from the front seat, "This is what happens when you bring them too close to us! Nosy little whiny sooks."