Page 26 of Mistress Mayhem

I shake my head again, looking over his shoulder. “I was thinking about Charlotte.”

“Oh.” That’s it. That’s all he says.

Not understanding, I turn my eyes back to him to find tears in his eyes, my own quickly filling in response. What surprises me the most is that there’s no anger or resentment in his eyes. I thought for sure he’d hate me bringing her up.

“It’s hard to talk about her for you too?” he asks quietly, his voice barely more than a rumble.

“To talk about her. To think about her. To miss her. It’s like a dagger to my heart, but I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” When he shakes his head, I blink back my tears. “Don’t you hate me for what happened to her?”

I didn’t mean to ask that. I certainly don’t want to hear him admit that he blames me, but it just spills from my lips. I bite down on my lip, awaiting the verbal abuse that’s awaiting me—that I deserve.

“Hate you?” Austin scoffs. “You’re not the one who killed her. That’s probably the only way I could ever hate you, little one.”

“But I did. Instead of getting her the help she needed, I hid like a coward. If I’d have gotten her help that night—“

“And how would you have gotten help? It was Mayhem. No hospitals would have let the two of you inside. There were no emergency services. You did the right thing by hiding. If you hadn’t, the both of you would’ve been dead.” He shakes his head, his voice rising the longer he speaks. “Are you the one who shot her?”

I recoil at that. “Of course not! I would never have done that.”

Austin’s voice returns to its quiet rumble. “Then you didn’t kill her. Is that what you’ve thought this entire time? That we blamed you for her death? That I blamed you for her death?”

I shrug, not wanting to admit that’s exactly what I thought.

“Little one, I’ve never thought of you as dumb, but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He lifts my chin with his finger once more, and this time I don’t pull away from his touch or his gaze. “I was devastated by Charlotte’s death, but I was just as devastated by the fact that you’d been hurt. I was devastated that you wouldn’t see us and that we had no idea what happened to the two of you. Just like I was devastated when you left. But I never blamed you. None of us ever did. Not my parents. Not the guys. You were a victim.”

I grit my teeth at that. I hate being called a victim, even though that’s exactly what I’d been. “That might be, but I’m not anymore. I never will be again.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He smiles as I square my shoulders. “Now, I do believe you have a plan to put in place, yes?”

“Yes, I do.” I pause. “Thank you for the dance and the conversation, Austin. I needed it.”

“Anything for you, little one. Now, go.”

I nod once before turning around and searching the crowd for my prey.

And there he is. A wicked smile forms as I stalk toward him.

Chapter Fourteen

Sage

Lawrence’seyesarealreadyon me as I head toward him, a sneer on his lips as he glances between Austin and me. I notice he’s once again standing on his own. It seems no one else wants to deal with the bastard either. Can’t say that I blame him.

“Lawrence,” I purr as I approach, biting back a laugh as he perks up at my attention. Pathetic.

“Sage. I was beginning to wonder if you were all talk.” The smirk that slides across his face is creepy as fuck. While I’m sure he was attractive enough at some point, the sleaziness rolls off him in waves, and I can’t help but wonder how he ever convinced someone to marry him. But then I remember that he’s filthy rich.

I shoot him a heavily practiced demure smile, running my fingers over his shirt. “Of course not, Lawrence. You’ll find I’m more a woman of action. Surely, William has had enough time to recover by now. Would you fancy a visit to the library with me?”

“I’d love nothing more.” He offers me his arm, and I take it. It’s harder to fake my smile when he’s touching me, but I know this is the only way I’ll be able to get him to the library. “You know, you really are beautiful—even with that nonsense on your face. Your eyes remind me of someone, but I can’t for the life of me figure out who.”

I almost blow my cover then with a snort but manage to cover it up with a cough. “Oh, sorry. That was quite unladylike. I’m quite thirsty, but luckily, there’s a bar in the library.”

“I’m sure that’s not all that’s in the library,” he murmurs, and what I wouldn’t give to just punch him in the throat once more.

The worst part about all of this is that, of the four of them, Lawrence was the one who touched me the least while they held me captive. Cary had told me the reason why when he didn’t come visit me. I was too old for Lawrence’s taste—he preferred them younger.

Which is why I hold so much animosity toward this man. He might not have hurt me regularly like the other three, but he was the worst of the bunch. I was sixteen to their thirty or forty years back then, and he wanted them younger than that? That’s what we call a predator, and nothing will bring me more happiness than snuffing out his life.

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