Page 21 of Degrading Her

“This is more personal to you than you’re willing to admit. It’s not solely about helping the city, is it? It’s about what the library means to you and your dreams.” He pressed his lips together. “You’re almost there.”

I bit my tongue. Maybe he was right. Maybe that admission would help persuade him.

“I would kill for my own library,” I said. He raised a brow, and I reddened. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was going to killhim.“I didn’t mean it like that. But I would die for it.”

“So that’s where you draw the line,” he laughed. “You won’t kill someone, but you will die for it.” He put down his wineglass. “Isn’t that dramatic?”

“All dreams are dramatic. That’s why they’re dreams.”

And I was going to make mine happen, even if it killed me. I had sacrificed too much already to let it go now. I had to do it for Elaine, and for myself.

“How about Erica?” he asked. “Because I’ll be honest with you, Fiona, family to family: she’s more qualified than you. You know that, right?” He straightened his shoulders. “Would you kill her for the manager’s position?”

My chest burned. Why was he talking to me like this? I had to focus on my words and his question. Not his switch in attitude.

“I would never kill someone,” I said. “Ever.”

“You just said you would.”

“I wouldneverdo that. I would never kill for my own pleasure.”

A gleam sparkled in his eye. “No one said anything about pleasure. Only you.”

I swallowed, my eyes focusing on his lips. It was that slick way he talked that made me hot inside. Why were his lips so smooth? Wasn’t a livestock farmer supposed to have dried, chapped lips?

I straightened my shoulders.Focus, Fiona.“I don’t condone murder for personal gain.”

“Self-defense?”

“I’d rather die.”

That was probably an exaggeration. I was lucky that at twenty-six, I had never been in a situation like that before. He must have read it on my face.

“Most people will kill if their life depends on it,” he said.

“And I make sure to never put myself in that position.”

“You might not be able to help it.”

“I’mnotgoing to live withanotherdeath on my conscience.”

My cheeks were boiling. The anger surprised me; it had been years since I had reacted to Elaine’s death like that. I hadn’t been there when the train had hit her, but I hadn’t stopped her from following Maisie out. A shudder ran through my chest, but I pushed it away. Sawyer studied me. Did he know about Elaine?

I took a deep breath, burying that image of her body. Sawyer nodded at the bread rolls.

“Eat,” he ordered.

I quickly bit into the roll, glad for a break in conversation. It had gotten much more personal than I had expected.

“Would you really die for your own library?” he asked.

I chomped down on the bread. “You’re stuck on those words, aren’t you?”

The server brought our steaks, and I hastily dug into the meat. Did Sawyer have a deal worked out with the restaurant? Did he finish the cows or did he raise the calves? His suit was tailored, fitting his body perfectly. And his shoes were polished as if he hadn’t stepped on a farm his entire life.

And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he truly did something else for his family’s business.

Not that I cared.

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