Page 19 of Searching for Hope

Michael nods slowly. “It seems he likes spending money more than making it.”

I laugh. “Don’t we all?”

Michael shifts again and rests his hand on my knee. “He’s not sure if Mr Priest would be a good fit for the business. There’s very little information out there on him, which causes some concern, his finances also are a little alarming and within the world we operate, he’s basically unknown.” His fingers start to move the material of my dress. He scrunches and twists it, ever so slowly bunching it further up my leg. I do my best to ignore it.

“Which is exactly why he wants to partner with me. Mr Priest has a small number of clients who are looking for a very specific merchandise.” His hand is on my skin now, fingers brushing over my flesh. “He approached me as he believed I had the connections to put him in contact with the people that might be able to procure such merchandise.” The word gets stuck in my throat. It’s difficult to speak about human lives with such detachment. “Due to my reputation taking a bit of a blow in more upstanding communities because of my father, I thought it would be wise of me to consider his proposal.”

Michael leans close. “I rather like the fact that you’ve taken an interest in the business.” He whispers the words close to my ear. “It means I’ll get to see more of you.” His hand creeps higher and I breathe in sharply. “I’ve missed you, Everly.”

I sit up straighter and his hand slips back toward my knee. “So do you think your father can help us?”

Michael brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. His body is tilted toward mine, his knee pressing into my thigh, his hand once again toying with my flesh. “I think I might be able to convince, you know, if you want me to.”

There are two ways I could play this. One, I could slip back into a relationship with Michael. It would be easy to do. But it would also repulse me. I used to think he was a king or a prince at the very least but now I see him as nothing more than a replica of his father. His greed and need for power overwhelms everything else.

The other way would be to call him on it now. Draw attention to what he’s trying to do and just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me.

I decide to go with the latter. Grabbing his wrist, I twist it away from me sharply.

“Fuck, Everly!” Michael curses as he grips his wrist. “That hurt.”

I stand, glaring down at him. “It was supposed to. I’m not sure what you think this arrangement is, but it’s not that. I am not one of these women you think you own. I came here with a business proposal and I refuse to be treated like the merchandise.”

Michael’s mouth twists into a smile. His eyes scan over me, flicking from head to toe. “This is a side of you I haven’t seen before. I like it.”

Lifting my chin, I cross my arms. “I’m not the same person I used to be.”

Michael’s eyes are alight with something as he gets to his feet and comes to stand in front of me. It could be admiration. It could be he considers me a challenge.

“I can see that,” he says.

For the briefest of moments, I’m taken back. I’m the girl who used to silently beg this boy to notice her. The one who used to watch her phone, praying for him to ring. The one that stared as he hung with his mates at school and wished he’d look at her, just once.

I shake my head, dislodging the thoughts. They don’t belong in my head anymore. I am not that person.

“So do we have a deal?” I shove my hand out.

Michael takes it, but instead of shaking it, he bends and lowers his lips to my knuckles. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then he winks.

chapter seven

BERKLEY

The spires of the Sanctuary appear blackened against the rumbling gray clouds. Lightning stretches across the sky, encasing the world in a momentary flash of white. Thunder cracks and then the rain begins to fall as a heavy blanket. The deafening sound of it fills the car as both Jericho and Barrett open their doors and step outside. It’s Jericho who pulls my door open and stands with an umbrella to shield me. We both dash toward the doors, the sound of them shutting behind us echoing through the foyer.

Jericho runs his hands through his hair, shuddering when it brings a fresh splattering of water down his back. He steps forward, ready to disappear into the bowels of the Sanctuary, but I stop him, reaching out to place my hand on his arm.

“This could really be something.”

He freezes under my touch, eyes falling to where my fingers rest on his arm.

“We could find her.”

He smiles, but it’s tight and forced. “And we might not,” he says gently. He sighs when he sees my face fall. “I’ve been here before, Berkley. It’s best not to get your hopes up. We don’t even know if this Iris, this woman your father claims is Hope, truly is her. It could just be someone who looks like her. Or your father could be just messing with us.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I drop my hand from his arm. I’d been feeling so hopeful. So pleased with myself.

“We could always ask my mother. She’d know.” Even as the words come out of my mouth, I know I won’t do it. It would be unfair of me to drag her back into this world.

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