Page 124 of Wicked Sexy (Wicked Games 2)
I move carefully down the tunnel. The LEDs flicker on and off under my feet as I walk, leaving a ghostly trail of light in my wake. “No armed guards to escort me? That’s quite the dangerous oversight, Søren, considering the last time we saw each other I vowed to kill you. And I will, you know.”
“We’ll see.”
His voice has changed again. There’s a smugness to it that makes me uneasy, a secret in his tone. If Søren has a secret, it doesn’t bode well for me.
At the end of the corridor, I encounter another steel door. There are no mechanics visible, no handle or keypad or optical scanner that might make it open.
So I say, “Open sesame.”
“Going with sarcasm, are we?”
“In my experience, it can crack almost anything.”
Søren chuckles. “Say please.”
He draws the word out to two syllables, singsong style, the emphasis on the first syllable. PLEEEEE-ease.
Pretending that didn’t make all the hair on my arms stand on end, I say, “Oh, excuse me. Where are my manners? Please, you motherfucking cocksucking son of a Dutch whore.”
Blistering silence. Then, softly, “Every time you curse, Tabitha, it’s ten lashings. And if you bring my mother into our conversation again, I’ll be forced to employ the branding iron.”
My pulse ticks up several notches. “Really. And here I thought you’d never harm me. At least that’s what you promised. Do you remember?”
“Like it was yesterday. I had a rather large knife protruding from my chest at the moment. A knife you, darling sister—”
“Half sister.”
“—put there. I promised I’d never harm you, and that I’d always be watching over you, so that if you were ever in peril, I’d be there.” His voice warms. “A promise you must admit I’ve fulfilled quite spectacularly.”
I say sourly, “Try not to break your arm patting yourself on the back.”
“But you knew I’d come for you, didn’t you? You knew I’d come.”
His voice echoes around me, filling my ears, filling my body, staining me from skin to marrow. Yes, I knew he’d come. He might be a criminal, a murderer, and a complete psychopath, but he is a man of his word.
“That does raise the question, however.”
“Hmm?”
“The Bank of America job? That did me some harm.”
His laugh is indulgent. “Don’t be ridiculous. That was a minor inconvenience that made you stronger in the end. I did you a favor, Tabitha. I taught you what bumbling incompetents are running the circus.”
I snap, “It taught me not to trust anyone. Along with everything else you did.”
“Which is the greatest gift I could ever give you. Trust is for children and fools. We are neither.”
With a sharp pain in my chest like a knife twisting, I recall Connor’s words.
“Trust is better than anything else.”
That memory makes me miss him with a feral ache. But he’s not here, and I have to stop thinking about him or I won’t be able to do what needs to be done. I won’t be able to put one foot in front of the other if I think too long about the possibility that I’ll never see him again.
Søren says, “What we have is stronger than trust, Tabitha. It can never be broken. We have blood. We’re family—”
“You murdered my family!” I say suddenly, loudly, the words unexpectedly raw in my throat. My head is finally clear, and fury has arrived along with the clarity. But I have to control it, or I’ll lose my edge. And when Søren is involved, losing an edge means losing everything.
I drag in a deep breath, let it out, do it again and again, ignoring the trembling in my hands.
