Page 10 of The Bonds We Break
Gripping her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I lift her face to look at me. I’m about a foot taller than her, and she has to tilt her head. Long lashes frame her eyes, and she has the kind of cheekbones a supermodel would kill for.
“The only reason I haven’t killed you is that I know it will do more harm to your brother if he knows I’ve got control of you. He’ll stay alive if you cooperate. When he gets back, he can choose whether he wants you or the club. You refuse to come with me, and the club member I currently have watching his villa will step in there, kill him and Briar in their beds, and make it look like a robbery.”
I sent a prospect, Martin. He knows his patch into the club depends on this. He’s already proved his worth, and I pull out my phone to show Rae the images.
“As you can see, your brother and Briar are having a lovely time.” Pictures of them swimming in the ocean, shopping in a market, and eating dinner in a restaurant fill the screen. It’s the first time I see the color leave Rae’s cheeks.
Her eyes meet mine. “He took all those punishments on the belief you would let him rejoin the club if he survived it. He trusted your word.”
I blow straight through the whisper of guilt I feel. “Are you going to stand and defy me, in which case your brother’s death will be on you? Or are you going to give me your phone, go upstairs with me and pack, then come quietly like a good girl?”
And that’s when I see it.
If I hadn’t been staring into eyes so blue, cuntstruck, I might have missed it.
Good girl.
Widened pupils, a small catch of breath, a slight mottle of her chest.
I wonder if she likes being a good girl. Because I love making good girls cry.
“I have terms,” she says.
She says it so resolutely, I almost laugh. “You get the part where I might kill you, yeah?”
Rae steps out of my space, and I let her. “Everything is a negotiation.”
I pull my cut back so she can see my gun. “Not everything.”
“I have clients who depend on me. I need to take my work with me.”
I almost laugh. “You think I’m letting you have access to the outside world?”
“If you want me to come peacefully, yes. And you need to let me cancel my date so he doesn’t get worried and raise alarms, seeing it was arranged by a friend. Otherwise, you will have to drag me kicking and screaming into that van of yours.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “You can take your work with you. I’ll decide if you get to do it. You’re going to have your hands full.”
“Hands full of what?”
“Me, Rae. What, did you think I was simply going to leave you alone in a room all day?”
“I don’t know you, which means I have no idea what you will or won’t do.”
I tip my chin toward her phone. “Text the douchebag.”
She huffs and begins to type as I watch over her shoulder.
“His name was Aaron? With twoa’s? Definitely a douchebag.”
Rae turns to look at me, her plump lips so close to mine it would take nothing to close the gap. “Or perhaps it comes from the Hebrew name Aharon, and when it was co-opted and translated by the Greeks—who didn’t have an equivalent to anhin their alphabet—it became Aaron because the doubleagave a similar sound. He’s also a vet. And I’m sending a message to my friend, Mitchell, telling him I’m taking a last-minute trip and asking him to water my plants. If anyone called the police, it would be Mitchell.”
The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes her jump, and I glance at the door. “You okay in here, boss?” Niro asks.
I glance at Rae. “I don’t know. Are we?”
She nods and wraps up a text that claims she has a headache and won’t be able to make it tonight. Then quickly types to Mitchell what she said to me.
“You need to let me message my clients. I’m in private practice. They may contact the police if I suddenly disappear. I can write a vague explanation and copy and paste it to all of them.”
