Page 204 of His Pretty Little Duet

I laugh at him. "You wouldn't have let me go."

"No," he admits, "because Mr Butcher is my boss.And... your safety is important to me as well."

Luna crawls out from my diamond leg pen and stumbles over to his freshly polished black shoe, rubbing her face on the reflective surface, smearing it with her dribble. Then she tumbles to the side, her paws going up, swatting at the black laces.

"So…" I peer up at my henchman/butler/rat, who I am very fond of even though he is a pain in my arse. "I had no choice. I'm glad you're not dead, by the way. Even though you're a rat."

He ignores Luna as she attacks his shoe. "Rats are the new cats. I read it in a Cosmopolitan."

I laugh, surprised he managed a joke given our new less-friendly arrangement. "You know, I heard that people change on death row. I didn’t realise it would happen so quickly, so profoundly. Your sense of humour has finally returned."

He looks lighter as he says, "Which leads me to the next thing I have to say to you, Miss Harlow?—”

“Wait… Is this about your sense of humour or your epic experience on death row? I’m fragile, after all.”

“You are not fragile. I think that ship has sailed. No, this is about my job,” he advises, amusement in his voice. A sound I have missed. “Mr Butcher has changed my contract.”

I deadpan.No.I don’t want a new butler/rat. I likemybutler/rat. “Oh. Is he taking you away from me?”

“No.” He smiles. “He’s giving me to you. I’m officially under your orders from now on.”

I squint at him. "Wait…” As I try to understand what that means, I pause and watch Luna try to crawl up his leg. “What does that mean?”

Looking down at the kitten as she makes her way towards his crotch, he tries to gently shake her off his leg. She doesn’t budge. So, he pries her from his thigh and sets her on the ground again. Shemakes a squeaky call of annoyance.

"I’ll do what you ask of me,” he says, pulling my focus back to the knowing sparkle in his eyes.

Happiness plays along my mouth as the meaning behind that gesture registers. "He trusts you with me?—"

"He trustsyou,Miss Harlow."

My breath catches. “Woah.” A little flicker of control, of place, identity, and acceptance rolls around inside me. I beam. “I have an employee. Can I request that you call me Fawn?”

He grins. "Yes, Boss.”

I crack up laughing, finding the word ‘boss’exciting as all hell, now understanding why Clay Butcher looks and smells like power… Because that’s what he is—walking, talking, smelling perfect power. And I have a little borrowed power of my own now, too.

I get an idea.

Now that the threat of my dad is… over, I take a big breath. “Can I leave the house?”

“You may.” He holds his hand out for me to take, and I do, standing with his assistance. “Where would you like to go?”

“To Max and Cassidy’s house. Then to see Xander,” I say immediately, brushing the short white hairs from my jeans and flowy pink crop top. I got a little head spin from jumping up fast but rattle the fuzz around until it releases its hold.

His brows draw in. “Of all the places you could go, you want to head straight towards drama again?”

“Yes. I want to make sure he’s okay. He took a bullet for me. And he’s pissed Clay off. And Cassidy must be so upset. Fuck, maybe withme…” I fumble on the unwelcome thought, remembering the last time I saw her and Shoshanna, I avoided them. Avoided the accusation in their sorrowful eyes. “Damn.” I cringe at the memory. “Yeah. I have to go. And I have to see Xander too. It’s my fault he was taken. And he’s…my friend.”

“And you should eat more before we go,” he insists. “Don’t think for a second I didn’t just see you nearly faint?—"

“I didn’tnearly faint. Don’t be dramatic.” After putting Luna back in her pen, I walk towards the kitchen. He trails me, his dubious expression like a hand tapping me on the shoulder.

“You went whiter than you are naturally.”

“No, I didn’t,” I dismiss, grabbing a muffin from the basket of goods Maggie fills with freshly baked pastries and cakes. “See.” I wave the orange and poppyseed muffin at him.

Wandering towards the front door, I take a bite because he isn’t wrong. I’ve eaten. I had cereal. But when I stood up, I did get a little wave of dark coasting across my vision, a moment of weakness, heavy headiness, but I’m set on seeing Clay’s brothers and Cassidy.

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