Page 7 of Forbidden Pawn

“Yes?” He asks.

I retort with an innocent look.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just bored, I guess.”

“You’ll get through it,” he murmurs, lowering his gaze on the papers again.

“It would be much easier to stay quiet if I had my e-reader, you know,” I say.

“Nice try,” he says, without looking up. “I won’t be long.”

“How long?” I dare to ask.

“You’ll see,” he returns.

“Very fun—”

“The more you talk, the longer this is going to take,” he says, now looking up to meet me with a stern expression. “Do you really want to test me this early on, Grace?”

I hurry to shake my head. “No, sir.”

He freezes and looks at me with a blank expression, as if I’d just struck him.

Does he enjoy being called sir by me? If he does, maybe I should keep doing it. Making him like me might make this a lot easier. If he trusts me, he’ll be careless. And if he’s careless, there will be more opportunities for me to…

“About half an hour,” he cuts into my thoughts. “I should be done in about half an hour.”

“Okay,” I say in a low voice. “Thank you, sir.”

“Stop calling me that,” he says, but his voice lack conviction.

Oh, but I won’t. I will call you sir until you’re dumb enough to think I actually respect you, you handsome piece of shit.

He goes back to focus on his oh-so-important work. Work that destroys lives, work that helps criminals like the Reid brothers—work that kills people.

Work that killed my father.

But soon, he will pay for it. He will pay for everything he has done to my family.

Chapter 5

Ryker

I can’t work like this. Each click of my pen, each shift in my chair, each breath I take feels amplified with her in the room. I tried to keep my eyes glued to the papers in front of me, but the letters kept turning into a blur, forcing me to read every sentence multiple times without catching its meaning.

It has always been my plan to drive back to the office and get some paperwork done after my meeting with the Reid brothers. I just expected to bring a bag full of cash with me, instead of their little sister.

Their delicious little sister.

She’s been sitting in a chair in the corner of my office, as far away as possible from my desk, but still within sight, awkwardly shifting in her seat. Maybe I should have given the e-reader back to her, to keep her busy. But I couldn’t be sure if that device has been toyed with. She could use it to spy on me. Or there could be some kind of weapon hidden inside of it. Or a bomb.

I may sound paranoid, but in my line of work, it’s better to be paranoid than careless.

How could someone like her emerge from a world like mine? She looks so innocent, so pure and small, like a tiny little bird.

And she’s mine. I have to keep her safe, in a world that is drenched in blood.

No. She’s my prisoner, not my foster child.

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