Page 51 of Merciful Lies

I’m not going into a meeting with some greasy fucking councilman sporting a chubby.

“Traffic ahead. Looks like an accident,” Tommy, my driver, says.

“Take the turn ahead. Cut around,” I tell him.

I exhale again. My nerves are all fired up, and I don’t want to be here. I want to be home.

With her.

Sometimes I feel like two sides of a coin. One side is the king of the Vipers. The ruler of a criminal organization that commands respect in the tri-state area.

The other side is just me.

Nico Fury. The man.

I think of Anna as we take a side street. My driver knows where to go, and with the accident behind us, I don’t need to pay attention.

I think of her pretty face and her sweet, soft body. The way she moaned my name when I woke her up this morning with my face between her thighs.

She’s so goddamn beautiful. So fucking delicious.

I can’t get enough of her.

But even as I remember all the dirty, sexy things we did just hours ago, I’m alert. My senses are working, and my body is attuned to my surroundings.

I’m always fucking aware of my surroundings. I have to be.

It’s how I survived this long. I keep myself loose, my hands rest on my thighs, and I look at my left one in particular.

Hmm.

That reminds me, I have something to do before I go to this next meeting.

“Take the next left. We’re making a pit stop at Trapp’s,” I tell my driver, and he nods.

CHAPTER NINETEEN-ANNA

“Ican’t believe it. I mean, you and Angel,” I whisper, completely shocked.

“Yeah, well, it was a shock to me, too. But obviously, it’s not serious. I mean, I just owed him because of the whole beer in his face incident,” she mumbles.

I start to giggle. I can’t help it. It turns into a fit of full belly laughter, and I snort. I slap my hand over my mouth.

“Oh my God, Anna! Are you snorting at me?”

Giselle shakes her head, but I can tell she wants to laugh, too.

“Oh, Sisi, you should see your face,” I say between laughing and sucking in gulps of air.

I make us a pot of herbal tea, place some cookies on a plate for us to share, and we talk about Sammy. It’s still difficult to think of my little brother as dead, but I know it will get easier with time. At least, I hope it will.

“How are you holding up?” Giselle asks.

“It’s hard, you know. Sammy was a lot, but he was still my brother,” I say tearfully.

She hands me a napkin and moves her chair closer so she can wrap her arm around me.

“You took such good care of him, Anna. Way better than your dad, and I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it when I judge people, but he checked out on the two of you long before you were even an adult. Sammy had plenty of good examples from you, but he made his own decisions.”

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