Page 32 of Deception

“She’s not a child,” I snap at him, my chest tightening at his remark.

Red is many things that are bad for me, but a child isn’t one of them. She’s young. Younger than my thirty-two years, but her fire more than makes up for that. Everything I know about her makes her an old soul.

“Next to you, thegirl is a baby.”

“One that could probably take out half of your men.”

As though he appreciates my point, he nods his head from side to side in consideration of whatever is going through his head. Eating another fry, he taps something into his phone before he tells me, “If they’re watching out for her movements, you’re risking everything your father has done with the English. You have someone on the inside that can open doors and make life easier…”

“And if or when a door closes, a window opens, Anton.”

“At what cost?”

“If they wanted her back, they would’ve come for her already. Red is disposable to them.”

“She should be disposable to you.”

“So should you, Anton. I might trust you enough to give you freedom of speech and opinion, but you are still part of the payroll. Remember that as you send for her.”

Throwing back the rest of my drink, I head for the bedroom. The thrum of my heart mutes the noise of my thoughts. After I shower, I pull my laptop out and go back to studying her life before me. There’s not much, and the more I dig into her, the more I realise that the reason they sent her for me is that her public profile is low. Apart from event photos, there isn’t anything else on her. No social profiles. Nothing really. She could be a ghost.

They chose her because they could easily brush her under the carpet, and the conclusion makes my blood boil. It’s a fucking insult that they would send a child to take care of their business.

Do they really think that I’d be that easily incapacitated?

But she’s not a child.

No, she’s not, I scoff at my thought because to me, Red is all woman. Smart and cunning, she’s a dangerous beauty that the beast in me can’t resist.

Swiping through the screens, I go back to the photos dated back to the day I took her from the club. Red’s standing on the sidelines of a field watching the polo game. She looks pensive. Her expression seems torn, or maybe even mournful. In a crowd of people, she stands out with her fiery hair, and yet she seems invisible to all of them.

How is it possible?

How can nobody be as transfixed by her as I am now, simply staring at my screen?

Scrolling down the page, I pause at the last photo of her standing in the rain with a punk from the brotherhood. A lord, or so the caption tells me, as I force my eyes to deviate from the way her hand moulds to his face, body pressed to his in her soaked black dress while he kisses her.

Sucking my lip into my mouth, I lick over it until the taste of her sings on my tongue. Nine days and my dick still throbs at the whisper of her tang. My muscles coil tight while my stomach twists. The longer I stare at the photo on the screen, the stronger the urge to bring her to her knees becomes. To rip all that affection that softens her eyes as she looks up at the bastard from her.

Red loves him.The thought is bitter, making my teeth grind together in disgust and aggravation. The girl loves and hopes, pining after another.

That needs to end.As I swipe to the next screen to the photos from her father’s party, I know exactly how to do it. Her spirit might be resilient, but we’ll see how she fares when I obliterate her heart and her love.

13

LUCY

The hot water beats down on my chest, heavy and relentless. If I close my eyes, the sensation is maddening, taking me back to the night Tomasz fucked me. I can’t stop thinking about it and wondering why I didn’t force myself to do more. And then, when the truth whispers to my loneliness, the shame seeps in.

All these moments we’ve shared have left me confused. My body and my head are constantly at war with one another, one missing him constantly while the other reminds me of everything he is. It should disgust me. All the things I know about him and his family should make the pining of my body repugnant to me, but I can’t stop it. When I try, it becomes unbearable. The loneliness becomes a darkness so stark that I long for him to return for me. All the hate in the universe can’t eradicate the longing of my soul for him. Like a poison, he’s encompassed all my senses and rationale. The world outside these walls has ceased to exist. Life as I knew it is gone, leaving only the moments we share.

Why did they send me for him?

Why me?

Why him?

Why us?

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