Page 79 of Wicked Sin

My heart cracks for her, for that little girl who saw too much. “Okay.”

Slowly, she lifts her face and gives me a sad smile. “I don’t remember the first time I saw something I shouldn’t. Probably I was a toddler. I remember quietly storing that kind of knowledge away, though. Like nuggets of information that might one day be useful. I learned that secrets are powerful. Once they spill out, they’re just messy and hurtful. And it hurt enough keeping them inside, I wasn’t sure I could handle what it would feel like if they scattered all over the floor.”

“How many secrets did you keep like that?”

“More than I could ever count.”

I gently stroke her cheek, desperate to keep her gaze on me. For her to see that this is safe, that I’m here for her no matter what she says. “You sound like a spy forced into service against your will. Like you were a small, scared Harriet the Spy, but it was a very real, very grown-up thing and not a game at all.”

“I guess I was. And no, it wasn’t a game. The consequences were clearly life or death. I knew that as a teen, for sure, and probably sooner.”

“Have you ever told anyone?”

“Never.”

“You’ve been holding this in forever?”

“Yes.”

That’s horrifying. How lonely. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because you said it happened.”

She blinks, slowly. Appraisingly. “That’s a good line.”

“It’s not a line.”

“People lie about bad things happening to them all the time.”

“Not all the time. And when they do, it’s usually for a reason. Something else that happened. A need that’s not being met. In a very rare instance, it’s to manipulate the system.”

She curves one eyebrow up in an elegantgotcha. But she doesn’t have me caught with anything, because I’m not fooled by her act. She’s still very much that scared little girl thrust into an adult mess.

“And even though I’ve told you I’m a manipulative bitch, you don’t think that’s me?”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t feel manipulated, I promise. For example, you didn’t mean to kiss me the first time, in the kitchen. That knocked you off-kilter just as much as it did me. I think you’ve cultivated this image of you being manipulative to get people to stop playing with you, not for any other reason. And I’ve done my best to show you I’m straight up here. I’m not playing you, Taylor. So I don’t think you’re playing me. I just think you don’t mindmethinking that so you feel like you’ve got the upper hand.”

Blink. Blink. Then she smiles. “Okay. Maybe.”

“And of course…” I trail my fingers over her thigh, then settle my hand on her hip. I squeeze. Hard. “I prefer to have the upper hand. And I think you do, too.”

“Have we reached the reward part of the interview, Detective?”

“We have, princess. We have.” I dump her sideways onto the couch, crawling after her as she shrieks in mock-protest. Bracing my hands on either side of her head, I hold myself above her and make sure the parameters are clear. “Nothing too intense. This is just a little stress relief. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. This is safe. And just between us. You and me, okay?”

“Please.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Kiss me again.” She laughs weakly as her tongue darts out to swipe her bottom lip. “I can’t get enough of that, and I don’t even like kissing that much.”

“What do you like, then?”

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