Page 34 of Wicked Sin

“He was the first one I got dirt on, though. The others…they were warm-ups. A test, to see just how pliable I could be.”

“How young were you when…”

“Fourteen. My mother caught me with a boy. I don’t know what that conversation should have gone like, but it didn’t resemble anything like I’d seen on TV or read in a book. It was… I knew it was weird. She seemed proud of me. She said—and I’ll never forget this—‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be like me. But I’m glad you are. It’ll take you far.’ And I still don’t know what she meant by that, because it hasn’t.”

“Cole told me that she’s involved in high-level politics.”

“Is that how he put it?” Her lips twist into an ugly, sad frown. “She inherited a seat at the most powerful table in the world. Well, inherited isn’t quite the right word, because her father is still alive. But he groomed her for it, and I think she would have groomed me for it, too, if I hadn’t fucked everything up.”

The Blow Job Princess.

“What did you do?”

“You know.” She laughs, sharp and hollow. A familiar sound already, after barely a day. “Everyone knows. You asked me about it so politely, like I’d accidentally slept with a powerful man, and oops, did his wife maybe resents me for that. There was no accident there. And if she does, so be it, because it was my out and I took it.”

It’s shockingly callous and painfully real at the same time. “That was…”

“My cruel and desperate attempt to destroy my future reputation. Yes.”

I stare out at the river, then down to my salad, and finally back at her. The weird day has gotten weirder. “Well,” I finally say. “It seems to have worked.”

She makes a rueful face. “Yeah.”

“I’m not really sure how I take this back to the captain as motive for attempted murder.”

“I remember the first time I told my therapist in Los Angeles about all of this. She’d seen it play out on television and still couldn’t believe it. So… I don’t expect anyone to be held accountable for the car bomb if it was my mother.”

“Or your grandfather?”

“He’s not…” She drifts off, then stabs a big forkful of salad and eats it. “My grandfather is an alcoholic. No excuse for his behavior, but he’s pretty incapable of making grand plans. Or any plan other than getting to mid-afternoon. I think he and my mother are locked in a mutually-assured destruction routine that’s more depraved than I ever want to say out loud.”

I’m starting to put the picture together. “Did he ever abuse you?”

“No. He was never interested in me like that. Her? Yes. They still have an inappropriate relationship. But I wasn’t his type. Thank God for that. So I was just farmed out to his friends and business acquaintances.”

My phone vibrates, interrupting us. Then it goes again, and she waves her fork at my hip. “Answer it if it’s important. Have we dealt with enough heavy stuff for now?”

More than enough, and probably not nearly enough at the same time. I pull it out and chuckle as I read the screen. “Huh. It’s your sister.”

She jerks her head back in surprise. “Hailey?”

“No.” I turn the screen around she can read it. “Your family moves fast.”

I watch as she reads the messages. Both of them.

Alison: OMG, this is Taylor’s sister Ali! Her phone isn’t on, and Cole gave me this number. Can you please tell her to call me ASAP?

Alison: Also whoever you are, you better take good care of her or I will find you.

Her eyes go wide.

I clear my throat. “Just to be clear, is she threatening a police officer?”

Taylor shakes her head, and then hesitates. “Only in the most literal sense.”

“That’s the worst sense.” I grin.

Taylor smiles too, and that’s nice to see. “She’s harmless.”

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