Page 14 of Sinful Like Us
Rose skips over Connor’s statement. “If Thatcher wants to keep his life, he will be thinking about that scrapbook.” She points to the album, still in my hands. “Page seventeen.”
I flip to the page. Another crying photo of Jane. This time she’s in her childhood home and at the foot of her bed. Face beet-red and mouth in an opened scream. She was a cute kid—even crying. My lips begin to really lift.
“Why are you smiling?” Rose snaps at me.
My mouth flattens. “Because I think my girlfriend’s baby pictures are cute.”
Jane brightens like radiant sunlight.
Rose nods strongly. “She was a very cute baby.” She squints at me like I’m up to some alleyway, goblin-sniffling plot, and I’m not.
Hopefully one day she’ll see me as a straight shooter.
“Dramatics and props aside,” Connor says, focused on me. “You need to keep our daughter safe. Your job is to protect her from the person she’s sleeping with, and since that man is now you, you have a bigger responsibility to Jane.” He’s talking like I’m still on her detail.
“I’m not her bodyguard anymore, sir.”
“Last time I checked, you also weren’t her bodyguard when she was choked in her own bedroom. But now you are her boyfriend.”
The kitchen sobers at his words.
My jaw tics, muscles flexed, and a blood-red fire burns in my veins. I hate thinking about what happened to Jane. I was just an Epsilon lead at the time of theChokehold Incident, and I had enough power to erect more protections but not enough to actually talk to Jane, to ensure that she was okay.
“I would never hurt her,” I say strongly.
“You’re six-seven.”
“I know.”
“She’s five-seven. And if you choose to prioritize yourself over her during intercourse, she could get hurt in an instant, and I wouldn’t call that an accident.”
Him referring to sex as intercourse doesn’t make this interaction any better. Jane is wincing, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Her family is open about sex.
Common knowledge.
“I know,” I tell him, not shying. “But I’ve been six-seven all of my adult life, and there’s not a single time I don’t think about the power I have in bed. Her safety is always on my mind. In every aspect of our relationship. Especially when we’re sleeping together.”
“This is true,” Jane says like this is a business meeting. “I can confirm, but I’d like to keep the details of it private. Thank you.”
Connor and Rose smile, clearly in admiration of their daughter.
This conversation is easier with Jane here. Maybe because she glances at me and gives me a small, reassuring smile. One that pushes me to say more.
“If something happened to Jane and it were my fault,” I tell them, “I don’t know if I could live with myself.”
And that’s just the honest truth.
Silence blisters.
Rose flips her shiny brown hair off her shoulder. “I’m going to try to believe you, even though you’ve given me no reason to. Which is really your own fault for breaking our trust before you’ve even built it.”
I nod. “I appreciate you hearing me out, Rose.”
She spins on her heels to Jane. “The holidays are going to come and go before you know it, and if you still want a job I might have another assistant position at Calloway Couture—”
“No, no, no.” Jane raises her hands. “I am retired from fashion design. I’m still certain it’s just not in my blood.”
Good call, honey.
