Page 182 of The Sinner's Bargain

I wanted to ask how that bastard was still alive. I’d seen what he’d done. I’d seen the scars over Thoran’s heart. I could have lost him.

“Why isn’t he dead?” I demanded.

The two exchanged glances.

“With his connections, it would start a messy war. He didn’t tell anyone else what happened. No one, except Vance, Oliver, and Cyrus ... and you, know who was responsible. We’ve kept it quiet.”

I considered his words carefully, analyzing all he was telling me.

I wanted Ripken dead.

I wanted to set his home on fire with him in it.

“Easy, goddess,” Thoran teased, pinching my chin between his fingers. His own lips curled upwards in amusement. “Sheath the claws. It’s been years and I will eventually get him, but not yet.”

I didn’t understand what we were waiting for, but Thoran seemed like he knew what he was doing so I pressed my lips together and turned to face Vance. My body was drawn back to nestle comfortably into Thoran’s chest while Vance prepared.

“Start from the beginning,” he said, placing the pen over the pad while his free hand straightened his glasses. “How did you meet Brixton?”

My mind immediately went to the afternoon Mother came storming into my room. She’d been in a world of panic, rushing around, ripping apart my closet. Between her shrieks that nothing I owned was adequate, I learned Father had invited a very important guest to the house for dinner. That wasn’t unusual, except Mother was deranged.

“I was fourteen,” I said softly, pressing my nails into my palms. Not hard. Just enough to take the edge off. “He and Father were introduced by a mutual friend.”

“What does your father do?” Vance asked.

“He’s the CEO of Senica Investments. Jarrett was in the market for a new investment manager. I think.”

If that was how it started, it wasn’t how it ended. Somehow, instead of portfolios, I was bartered.

“Go on,” Vance prompted.

I pressed a little harder.

“He took a liking to me,” I whispered softly, embarrassed at having to admit that I somehow attracted the desires of a man well into his forties.

Vance’s pen paused in its scribbling but continued quickly.

“He paid my parents quite a bit ... a lot, actually. A lot of money to have me ... kept.”

There was silence as even Vance raised his head to peer at me over the plastic rims of his glasses.

“What do you mean kept?” Thoran asked just over my shoulder.

I couldn’t look at him. So humiliated to have to explain.

“He didn’t want anyone else to have me,” I explained slowly. “Originally, my parents were going to let him take me, for a fee, of course, but Malcolm wouldn’t let them. He was furious. I’ve never seen him so angry. He threatened to run away from home if they let Jarrett take me.” I chuckled a little softly. A little bitterly. I dug deeper into flesh and sweat. “Mother was ... Mother was so upset. He’s Father’s only heir and without him...” I shrugged. “It didn’t matter anyway, because Jarrett was in the process of a divorce and couldn’t have a child bride come up in court while he fought his last wife. It was messy, but he continued to pay my parents to keep me for him until he was done. They did.”

There was silence in the room.

Blood smeared on my palm.

A hot, sticky heat spread across the back of my neck and behind my eyes.

But I didn’t look up.

“I was on my way to meet him when Malcolm ... Malcolm freed me. He’d been planning it for years, apparently. He never said. Not once. He just ... he wanted...”

“Stop.” Thoran captured the hand closest to him and brought the back to his lips.

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