Page 16 of The Secrets That Kill

“Ivy, I won’t have to be stuck in this wheelchair forever.” She lets out a whoop. Behind her, I hear a voice. “My God, this is really happening! I’m going! I’ll call you when I land. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” I choke out, squeezing the words past the lump in my throat.

I end the call and drop the phone back on the table with shaking fingers. They find the glass next. I bring it to my lips and gulp the rest of the liquor. It bites and burns the entire way down.

Mercer lifts his gaze off of me, and two more glasses are placed in front of us.

He grins like he has me. He knows it, and so do I.

Because if he can help Elise, I’ll do anything.

I’ll sell my soul.

I’ll work with the Devil.

“Why are you doing all of this? Why are you so hell bent on using me for your plan? Offering to help Elise after what I did to you—it just doesn’t make sense.”

Then horror lances me hard, like a knife to the chest.

Oh my God…

No.

What if it’s blackmail? What if my sister is being kidnapped as revenge?

Mercer’s smile broadens just a little, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“I’m not kidnapping your sister. She’s on her way to the Future Plus in Switzerland. It’s cutting edge, and care in the spinal unit, as you know, costs more than you would ever come up with in your lifetime. Only a handful of candidates are selected for treatment each year. It’s nearly impossible to be considered unless, of course, you own that unit.” He picks up his drink. “Without that treatment, Elise’s future is pain-filled, and she’ll be stuck in that wheelchair for the rest of her life at risk for other life-threatening complications. Which you already know.”

The frigid chill of ice now creeps up to the base of my skull. “How?—?”

But I stop myself. The “how” is that he made it hisbusiness. He’s madeushis business. For his own reasons, whatever they may be.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her. She’s innocent, but, Pollyanna, can you say the same for yourself?”

He knows. He knowsIwas meant to get into the car that day, not Elise. Somehow, he knows my crushing guilt.

Or maybe it’s that he knows how to twist my vulnerabilities. Like calling me Pollyanna right now, just like he did when I was a kid. Only now, it holds a streak of mockery, a dark center.

I don’t believe that Mercer’s a good man. Maybe that’s just my view of him colored by the past, and maybe not.

But the man he’s talking about…that Henderson person…definitely sounds damn evil through and through.

My mind spins. I’m floundering, looking for anything to grasp so I can claim some kind of control over this situation.

“The brutal honesty is this, Pollyanna…” His voice is dark velvet, sin, and sex. It catches at places inside me I’d really rather he couldn’t touch.

Tendrils of heat whisper down, pooling deep between my thighs. My pussy clenches and I want to shift on the seat to relieve the sudden, inexplicable pressure.

His gaze drops for a hair of a second, that knowing smile creeping back across his face. And I know he’s aware of the need swirling in my core, the hunger making me wet, making me crave his fingers, his lips...

My throat clamps tight.

“I might be richer than some gods, but there are things money can’t buy.”

He hasn’t moved an inch, yet it’s like he’s pressed right up against me, naked thigh to naked thigh, breath hot on my ear making the electric beats in me dance.

“Like?” I sweep my tongue over my dry lips.

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