Page 72 of A Secret and a Lie
“Let’s get started, shall we?” I ask, removing my black coat to reveal the lace bustier and garter belt. With my coat finally off, Henry’s eyes widen as he takes in my sling.
“I can help you, sugar,” he offers and steps toward me. While I’m touched that he’s extending this kindness, hecan’thelp me.
When I shake my head, he sighs and tries a different tactic. “We could do something different. I can…make you feel good.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I resist the urge to reach for him, to ask him for a hug. “Remove your clothes and kneel on the bed for me,” I order in my Domme voice, dropping an octave and taking on a stern edge.
Spreading my legs marginally, in an authoritative stance, I arch an eyebrow at him expectantly in an expression that dares him to cross me. He hesitates, but dips his chin, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
When he’s naked, his palms face up on his thighs, eyes downcast, I approach the side of the bed, my fingernails thrusting into his hair softly.
He mewls, like I knew he would, and I tell him, “Are you going to be a good boy for me tonight?”
“Yes, Madam,” he responds breathlessly, and I smile, making the cut in my lip stretch painfully.
“My perfect little pet.”
Exhaustion claws at my insides as I all but fall through the door of the apartment, locking it tightly behind me. I’m worn the fuck out and need a day off, but Leo has kept me booked for several weeks straight, without a break. I’m sore, emotionally and physically bruised, and bitterly numb. I don’t know how long I can keep going like this. Corinne was right.We’re powerless.
I crave the taste of dictating control of my life, no longer beholden to the schedule Leo demands of me, choosing and vetting clients myself, and establishing myself on my own terms. I don’t want this life Leo has carved up, placed on a platter, and force fed to me.
Corinne isn’t home yet, so I quickly change into sweats and grab my computer, plopping down on the couch in the living room to wait up for her. Turning on the laptop, nerves swirl to life in my stomach like moths emerging amid the darkness as I navigate to my messages.
I want to talk to @livingh3ll, want him to make me forget, want him to make my problems and dangers disappear. It’s strange, trusting someone you only know online, but I do. I trust him with my secrets—well, most of them. I trust him with my dreams and past. I trust him with my heart.
Sure enough, I find a message waiting for me.
@livingh3ll: Logan Circle. September twenty-first, seven p.m.
That’s only three and a half weeks away.
Am I ready for this?What if he decides he’s not interested once we meet? What if he doesn’t accept my profession and tries to make me quit?
Honestly, I’m fucking terrified of meeting up with him, but what kind of excuse is that? I’ll always be scared of something: of Leo, my clients, my own fucking life. I shouldn’t let fear stop me from actually living. After all, if I can survive Leo, I can survive meeting someone in person for the first time.
Holding my breath, my trembling fingers type a response.
@dc_d0ll: I’ll wear red.
Ford
There’s no amount of training that can adequately prepare you for shooting at another human being, even in self-defense. The knowledge that I’m taking lives settles on my shoulders heavily, and I strain against the weight as I pull the trigger again and again.
We’ve been battling with this group of insurgents for four days, and I’m worn the fuck out. I’m tired of war. I’m sick of being put in the position of kill or be killed. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.
She’s waiting for me.
There’s a south wind this afternoon, stirring up dust as we exchange fire. Ducking around the corner of the stucco building, I see a clear path and slink down the side wall on silent boots as we take our positions.
“Elwood, De Luca, do you have eyes on the building?” Hale asks through the comms unit.
Six shots ring out, cracking through the air like too loud popcorn kernels. Some die in the dirt in front of the building across the street, others embed themselves into the façade.
“Confirmed. Four on the roof.” Drake replies into my ear. He and De Luca are on the roof of the building across the street. While I can’t see them, I’m confident they can see us.
De Luca and Drake are the best long-range shots in our unit,so I’m not surprised that Hale stationed them up there while the rest of us split into two groups to enter this house from the front and back.
Silently, Hale signals for me to lead Suarez and Vesper toward the rear entrance and the three of us get in position, waiting for Hale to bust the fucking door down. Adrenaline surges to life in my veins, my heart jackhammering in my chest.
