Page 30 of Tarnished Queen

“We were brothers. Arslan was my only family. Even my grandfather was… Well, I was a cog in his business machinations more than anything else.”

“I’m sorry.”

I fold my hands over my stomach and stare up at the ceiling. “Don’t be. It’s the way things are.”

“But it’s not the way things have to be. You don’t have to do things that way.” After a beat, Belle reaches out and lays her hand on my arm. Her fingers are cold, and she sighs at the contact. “You’re burning up.”

I say nothing. Silence descends, heavy and charged around us. Belle circles her fingers over my skin, shifting closer until I can feel her breasts pressing against my arm. Until the warmth from her thighs is radiating against the back of my hand.

“Tell me a story about the two of you,” she prompts. “About you and Arslan. When you were kids.”

Talking about Arslan at all feels like cracking open my chest and exposing my underbelly to the wolves. But it’s painfully obvious that she just wants to know him better. And through that, to know me better.

Right now, in the dark, I want to give her both.

“When we were sixteen, we robbed a liquor store together.”

Belle gasps. “Not that kind of story!”

“Those are the only kind we have,” I laugh. “It’s better than it sounds.”

She makes an unconvinced noise in the back of her throat. It’s a rumbling sound that is dangerously close to the way she groans when I’m inside of her. I feel my cock twitch.

“Arslan got invited to this girl’s party, but we could only go if we could supply the alcohol.”

“You robbed a liquor store to get a girl’s attention? Really?”

“Well, the girl only saw Arslan, not me,” I explain. “And at the time, he was sporting some teenage acne and an overbite. He had to earn his keep.”

Belle laughs. “Oh my goodness. I wish I could see pictures of both of you at that age.”

“Keep wishing.”

“You embarrassed?”

“Me?” I scoff. “Absolutely not. But Arslan burned most of the evidence. There’s nothing left.”

“Except stories,” she murmurs.

“Except stories.” I hate the bitter taste of the words in my mouth. I take a deep breath to rinse it away. “Arslan was insistent we get the alcohol for this party. He thought we could get a fake ID or talk our way into it. I had a better idea.”

“To steal it,” she guesses.

I nod. “So, the night before the party, Arslan and I deck out in all-black and creep down this embankment to a liquor store right along the highway. The roar from the cars was the perfect cover for any noise we might make and it gave us a quick getaway. I parked the car along the shoulder just above us.”

Belle’s grip on my arm tightens. “Oh no. You got caught, didn’t you? Or your car got stolen. Did someone crash into your getaway car in the middle of the heist?”

I bite back a smile. “Arslan busted out the back window with a hammer and then we crawled inside. We were able to carry the loot up the embankment bit by bit over the next, I don’t know… fifteen minutes, probably?”

“Fifteen? That’s too long!”

“It was,” I laugh. “Because by the fifth time we crawled through the window, we could hear police moving around in the main room.”

“Oh, shit.”

“That’s what we said. The cops clearly knew we were in the back room and they were headed our way.”

“What did you do?” Belle shakes my arm with nervous fingers.

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