Page 94 of Sinner

I half growled in response. “What the hell does it matter?”

“Whoa. Someone is touchy tonight.” He threw his hands up and turned his attention elsewhere.

“Why did you ask me here for a drink?”

“Because you’re fucking around with the contestants. Or I could say, one of them. I don’t need to explain to you how dangerous that is.”

“What if I am?” My thoughts drifted to Jessica. After likely breaking her trust, she’d all but passed out on me. Not from drink but from the hangover of a heady rush of adrenaline. I’d seen it before. Fear was a powerful tool in every case.

With her, she fed off it, but had succumbed to the greatest fear she’d had. Of dying by suffocation.

I’d gathered that from the questionnaire results I’d gone over in more detail after our night of passion. It had felt like I’d missed something about her.

Now I was glad I’d contacted Zach, obtaining his assistance in retrieving her vehicle, which I’d driven back to her house. As I’d seen by being in her home, she was a clean freak, everything completely and perfectly organized. The attribute was usually kept by those who felt as if they couldn’t get a firm grasp on other aspects of their lives. With Jessica, it was a way of keeping a lockdown on her twisted fantasies. I was very much the same way.

“Because the last thing we need right now is exposure for a reason other than our recent release,” he pushed.

I yanked the glass of whiskey into my hand. “Who the fuck cares?”

“Me for one. You act as if you can just go off halfcocked doing whatever suits you at the time. We run a business. We have employees counting on us, stock owners who expect the best.”

“Wow. I never knew you suddenly became Mr. Corporate America.”

Wilder exhaled. “You know what I mean. The three of us wanted the same thing all those years ago.”

“Does that mean we’re different people than we were ten years ago? Fifteen?”

He shook his head. “I’d like to think so, but you’re right. We’re not. We’re the same cold-blooded killers society turned us into.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Does it matter?”

I thought about his question. “Not in the least. What does matter is that we agreed together we would continue living our lives the way we wanted without selling out to fame and fortune.”

“Fame and fortune? Oh, please. You’re acting with your dick for the first time since we found each other.”

Laughing, I had to admit I couldn’t deny it. “I’ll repeat the question. So the fuck what?”

“What’s really going on with you? Why is she so special to you? Call it none of my business, but it’s almost like you’re unraveling around her. It’s fucking weird, man.”

Weird was putting it mildly.

Answering him would mean admitting my obsession with her. I’d begun to wonder if my need to possess her was even fair. Or was I projecting my continued anger as well as grief for what had occurred more than a dozen years before? I’d never had a real conscience up to this point. Why now? Was I getting soft in my older age?

“Her name is Jessica Waldrop. She works for Sindom.”

“O-kay. Wow,” he muttered, taking a few seconds to reflect. “So that’s your angle. You’re just trying to continue taking out the competition. Maybe I like your style after all.” He lifted his glass.

“Yeah, that’s not why. I couldn’t give a shit about Sindom. They are lightyears behind us.”

“Then what?”

Why I was hesitating seemed odd to me. My brother couldn’t care less about my past and I felt the same way about his. We were different yet the same, our needs mirroring each other. It was the same with Zachariah. Perhaps the memories were painful even for a man like me.

“Jessica is the daughter of a man I once considered my best friend and no, I had no clue at first. The last time I saw her, which was only for a few minutes, she was merely a gangly teenager.”

“Oh. Ouch. A little taste of the forbidden,” he said, laughing until he realized just how complicated the situation truly was. “Was this that dude you were telling me about when you were living in what, Baltimore? A guy you connected with?”

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