Page 9 of Where He Ended

Annie clicks her tongue. “We're not worried about anything. In fact, we were celebrating the other night because of how well we've been doing.”

There's a lot of double talk going on, things being said that mean other things, things being left to hang in the air. But I can tell that the Steel Works Company is trying to figure out if there's something more going on.

I wish I could grab Franklin by his jacket and scream into his face, “I'm here against my will! If you help them, you're an accessory! Get me out of here!”

Something bumps my shoulder. I gasp, staring at Dominic as he lifts his glass to his mouth. His elbow grazed against me as he lifted it; he smirks but doesn't look at me. My arm tingles where he touched.

I try to make myself small in the seat. I'm too aware of how close he is to me. There's probably a good five inches between us, but my hunger for him bridges the gap. I wish I could turn off the craving. It's especially hard because today he looks delectable in his sharp black suit jacket and his gold-green tie.

His beard has been shaved recently, leaving his skin extra smooth where it touches the uniform lines on his face. As I'm staring at him, he looks down at me with one eye. I catch his quick, knowing grin.

Turning my drink by the stem, I stare deeply into it. It smells like tart berries and I inhale it, working to rub out the smell of Dominic in my nose.

There's some more back-and-forth between Silas and the others, but I tune it out. I'm really not capable of following this conversation on my best day, and Dominic's closeness is making breathing a struggle.

“Why don't we get some food?” Silas suddenly says, rising to his feet.

I blink, watching him. “You don't need to get it yourself,” I say. “The staff will bring you whatever you want.”

He squints at me with his eyebrows crunching as low as they can. “I prefer to choose things for myself.” The others follow his cue, rising up, moving to the table with their plates in their hands. The long stretch of finger sandwiches and other things is about half a yard away. I'm about to join them when Franklin's chair shifts on the grass loudly. He, like me, is still sitting at the table.

We're the only ones.

“You know,” he says, grinning so I can see his silver caps in the back of his mouth. “I heard you once bit a man who got too close to you. Is that true?”

“Yes,” I say hurriedly. I hope he'll get the hint and back off.

The gleam in his eyes disgusts me. “I happen tolovebiters.”

He's flirting with me and it makes me ill. I'm easily half his age. Beyond that, there's a predatory energy to his behavior.What do I do?I wonder, debating jumping up and rushing towards the group. I want this deal to work out. If I say what's really on my mind, it could bomb everything.

Franklin's hand lands squarely on my knee. I stiffen, biting back the urge to vomit. “I told Silas that he didn't need to hard-sell me. But you know, if you're as amicable as he thinks all of his staff is, I do have some ideas on how you can make my visit very, very pleasurable.”

“I'm not staff,” I growl, reaching down and grabbing his hand. To my surprise he places his other palm right on top, sandwiching my hand between both of his. His eyes are a poisonous green hue. “I don't care what you are,” he whispers. “I just know I want you.”

I'm on the verge of putting my shoe against his chair, tipping it over so that I knock his ass onto the ground. Before I can, a shadow falls over us. “Franklin,” Dominic says, his voice is smooth as silk. “You shouldn't linger here, let me show you some of the best food that our kitchen makes. There's more on that table than any man's stomach can handle, so I'll give you the insider info so you don't waste your time with the wrong ones.” His hand claps down on Franklin's shoulder. For anyone else it would be a friendly gesture. When Dominic looks at me from over the man's head, I see the barely constrained fury in his black eyes.

Dominic is saving me. But if this were any other person, any other situation, there would be no politeness. Dominic is putting on an amazing facade, all while he's imagining choking Franklin.

Franklin grimaces and lets me go. “I do have an appetite. Show me what your kitchen can do, but don't worry about me missing out. I'll taste everything eventually. I have a hunch we're going to become more than business associates.”

A dagger of distress sticks in my ribs.He plans to come back again? This wasn't a one-time situation?Of course not. It's obvious now, and though I can't blame myself for not predicting this, I'm still upset at my own idiocy.

In my attempt to connect the Bradleys to more powerful people, I haven't bettered my situation at all. Franklin has shown deliberate interest in me—when I think about his hand on my knee, my skin crawls.

One step forward, two steps back.

Both men stand, and as they leave, Dominic puts his arm around Franklin's shoulder from behind. I see his fingers curl, like he's noticed he's hugging a bag full of rotten garbage and wants to recoil. I relate. Grabbing a napkin off the table, I scrub my hands with it so hard that my skin glows pink.

I can't continue to sit here. Not next to Franklin. Jumping to my feet, I catch Mellie's eye. She gives me a subtle nod, indicating that it's okay if I leave. There's sympathy churning through her half-frown. I suspect she saw what happened.

Sprinting over the yard, I head straight for the mansion. When I get to the front doors, I feel the telltale burn of someone watching me. I'm too curious not to chance a quick look back at the tables in the distance.

Everyone is still gathering food, bent together as they chat under the miserably gray sky. Their faces are turned away. Except for Dominic's.

He's openly watching me.

The clouds split above, filtering a rare beam of sunlight through. It lands on his face and makes him shine. It only last a second. Then the shadows return, giving me the awful impression that no matter how many times that man saves me, it won't ever be enough to clean his soul.

Heaven will never welcome him.

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