Page 145 of The Secrets That Kill

When he finally pulls out, he rolls onto his side so he’s spooning me. His lips caress my shoulder, the heat of him against the bruises on my ass and back so right. The rhythm of his breathing evens, and as I start to fall asleep, I can’t stop my brain from buzzing.

Something went wrong tonight. I don’t know if that means they’re on to him, but it sounds like things are more dangerous, and…he’s getting paid to do this. I think he’s in it to take out the man responsible for Ruby’s death, but what if he can’t? Will something bad happen to him?

I still have the card.

And I realize, right as sleep claims me, that I can do something he can’t.

Get into that inner sanctum.

THIRTY-FIVE

mercer

I glance over at Ivy.Her hair is sprawled over the pillow. She’s still sleeping, thank fuck. I don’t need to be her when the realization that I’m a cold-blooded monster grabs hold of her now that she’s not under the spell of post-coital bliss anymore.

I should have fucking lied to her.

My downstairs office chair is a restored antique. I collapse into it and spin around. It helps when I’ve got shit on my mind, problems to solve. I spin to face the window while staring at the images on the screen of my laptop.

Wasp indeed.

Except this isn’t just a wasp, it’s a fucking hive.

Jeremy and Henderson. Henderson and Jeremy. The images weren’t taken recently. That would be a totally different thing and much easier to swallow. These pictures are of them younger. At college. A friendship that isn’t documented anywhere I can find. The only proof is in these photos that Orion managed to find.

If they’d been photographed together recently, it would tell me Jeremy’s on my side, laying groundwork for what’s tocome. But these images tell a very different story…one where Jeremy might be playing both sides of the fence and using his access and connections through the Obsidian Knights for work he’s doing against us—and for Henderson.

And if that’s true…motherfucker.

It would mean that Jeremy, who’s supposed to be one of us, is actually part of the whole sordid, depraved, and deadly organization we’re trying to take down.

A deep sigh makes my shoulders sag. My phone rings, and I drop my eyes down to the screen. Unknown. The number’s a burner number, though, one I gave out only for this job.

A chill settles deep in my bones as I click the Accept button.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of, Mr. Vale.”

“Not if you have the means, Henderson.” I owe him nothing in the politeness arena, especially when we’re playing such a dangerous game with so much potential for carnage. “You invited us to a party last night and snubbed us.”

“Unavoidable circumstances.”

I barely withhold a snort of derision. “To your own celebrated, almost impossible to get into event?”

“What can I say?”

A lot, cocksucker.

“But…” he adds. “We should talk. You have something I very much want.”

“My Pollyanna’s not for sale.” I don’t like this. Something isn’t sitting right, something I’ve missed due to distractions or worse, something I never anticipated.

That never happens. Not anymore.

But I still know how to play the game.

The man laughs. “Come on, everything’s for sale. I’ve been watching you. You have exquisite taste in all areas, but when it comes to a sub, you have near perfection. However, none are like this girl. She reeks of innocence, and I’ve seen the debasedthings you’ve done to her. Seen her beg for you. Do you even know how much a girl like that’s worth? Enough that I’d consider keeping her myself.”

“Not for sale.” I barely keep the rage from lacing my tone. Instead, I infuse it with annoyance.

---