Page 48 of Ashes of Saints

I nodded, but my head dropped too low and my nose hit the glass in my hand.

“Jesus, you’re drunk as fuck.” He kicked my leg.

“Ow. Fuck.” I rubbed it, splashed the whisky on my pants, then cursed again. “Goddamn it.”

When Maddox stopped heckling me and turned quiet, I looked at him.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Who?”

I knew who he meant.

“You fucking know who. Where is Aurora?” He growled.

“Ooooh, scary man.” I laughed and tossed back the last of the whisky, slamming it down on the table. Missed. Picked it up and put it down carefully.

Stupid table.

“Parker. What have you done with Aurora?” Maddox leaned closer, his expression full of concern.

“Kidnapped her. Locked her in a room in my house and then fucked her.” I leaned toward him and grinned. “Sound familiar?”

He didn’t even blink.

Probably because he had no conscious and held no guilt for what he did to the woman that he is now marrying. At the time, though, Maddox was aware it was wrong.

I think.

Fuck, maybe he didn’t.

Actually, he might not have, but luckily for Kyra, he fell in love with her and didn’t hurt her.

That’s why he’s worried about Aurora.

Maddox knew what he’s capable of, so he thought I’m like him. I’m not. My plans are far more subtle. I’m the guy probably licking his sister’s pussy. Not stealing her freedom.

You tell me which is worse?

Two more seconds had passed, and Maddox still hadn’t blinked. Like he’s a fucking robot. Still, my grin remained.

“Where is she?” he asked me again as Travis joined us.

“What’s going on?” Standing with his legs apart and hands casually propped on his hips, Travis glanced between us.

“She’s none of your business, so just drink your drink,” I replied, ignoring Trav, then leaned back.

“Christ. Please tell me we don’t have another prisoner on our hands.” Travis ran a hand over his face.

My head twisted around so fast. “We don’t have anything. Aurora is mine.”

Damn.

That wasn’t what I meant to say.

Or so abruptly.

Travis’s brows shot up and when I glanced back at Maddox, the fucker was smirking. I poked his shoulder and pointed in his face—which did nothing but make him smile bigger.

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