Page 99 of Lucky's Trouble

“The desert, I presume?”

“Yeah.”

He sets his fork down. “Conversations are meant to go both ways.”

“Sorry, Sir. Where are you from?”

Satisfied, he picks his fork back up. “I was born in New York, but I wouldn’t consider it my home. After age five, I was sent to different boarding schools all over the world.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“A sister and two brothers.”

“Are you close?” I’m not sure how this information will benefit me, but the more I know, the better.

“Not particularly.”

“That’s sad. I have a twin, and she’s my best friend.”

“I know. I met your twin,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “She’s not as special as you are.”

The way he says it as if it’s a fact grates on my nerves. “Then you didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“I beg to differ. I’m an excellent judge of character. Your sister has your beauty but not your fire. She’s a pushover and probably won’t amount to much.”

I stab the sausage with so much force it clinks against the plate. Lifting it to my mouth, I glare at him and bite off the tip. “She’s kind and caring, and she’d do anything for anyone. That makes her the best kind of person, in my opinion.”

“How far has that gotten her?”

“Further than me. She has her own apartment, she’s good at what she does and makes a good living, and she’s not trapped in a house being beaten and kept against her will.”

He chuckles. “Well, good for her, but should you give me and this place a chance, I think you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think.”

“How’s that?”

“Are you finished?” he asks, and I nod, setting my napkin on my plate. “Then let’s take a walk.”

We both stand, and he leads me out the French doors. It’s fall, so the morning air is crisp and cool, but the sun is warm. It reminds me of home, which makes me think I was right in assuming we’re somewhere near Las Vegas.

“Can I have clothes first?”

“No. Your natural form is too incredible to cover.” He leers at me, making me regret eating. I’m not above throwing up all over his expensive, blood-stained leather shoes. “Plus, it would be tragic to cover my marks on your delicious ass.”

I bite down on my tongue, stopping myself from lashing out at him. He’s the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.

We step out into the garden. It doesn’t belong with the landscape just beyond the fence line. In here, it’s lush, green, and sprinkled with vibrant flowers. Out there is brown, dead, and dry.

“This way.” He motions down a path and waits for me to pass. There’s no doubt in my mind he wants to walk behind me to admire his handiwork. I’m tempted to cover myself with my hands, but I can’t take any more violence right now.

I stop when we come across a naked woman wearing a leather belt that’s stocked with gardening tools. She’s bent over a patch of roses, snipping away at the newly budding flowers.

“There you are, Pet.” Sir moves past me and approaches the woman, who sinks to her knees and assumes the same pose as the women from last night. Wait, this can’t be. He allows his pets to roam the house and gives them tools they could use to murder him?

“Up, up,” he says, helping her to stand. He dips down to plant a kiss on her lips that she greedily accepts, not bothered at all that he’s a bloody mess.

I recognize her, and in the light of day, I’m able to take in more details. She’s a tall, white woman with black hair and a thin frame. Her breasts are small, and her hips are narrow. She’s my complete opposite.

“Thank you, Sir,” she says.

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