Page 79 of The Secrets That Kill

I’ve tasted her.

But she’s more than that. She’s got all the hallmarks of a perfect sub with a taste for pain and humiliation. And then there’s her soft air of guilt.

I’m slowly feeding that with my twist of words, playing into her beliefs that I’m redeemable. Thinking that she should feel for the boy I once was. I was honest with her. I told her exactly what happened years ago. And she wants redemption, too. I can see the soak of guilt into her own past when she talks about mine.

I’m betting she blames herself for Elise taking her place to keep peace or whatever. I’ll be using that against her, too. Not as blame, but a slow, sly feed.

Because fuck Ivy for turning me in to the cops. I won’t forget that. And fuck her for making me desire her so much, my bones ache.

Fuck everything.

I can want her and bring her down. The two are mutually exclusive.

And when I pull off this job, when I take out Henderson and get all the juicy and priceless information he keeps, there’ll be Knights and affiliates indebted to me. I’ll reap every one of my rewards to come.

I will finally avenge a long dead girl no one cared about except me...and Jaxson Gardner.

Another email comes through from someone I know. Someone I don’t like but keep in my loop because he can be unknowingly helpful. He’s also been seen with Henderson before.

It’s an invite to a dinner. No doubt there’ll be rich and debauched men who have ties to Henderson there, too.

The invite comes with a plus one.

Seems like it’s time to play with my toy in front of the bigger world. Except the more I dangle her in front of my target, the harder it is to keep my mind and my heart in the same game.

NINETEEN

ivy

“Sleep well?”

I expect to be held as some kind of prisoner after last night’s conversation, but Mercer in the morning light, in a suit, drinking coffee, is disconcerting.

As is the soft tone he uses.

I wonder if I should have dressed differently before coming into the kitchen this morning.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to wear something special, or?—”

“I asked you if you slept well. It’s not a twenty-four-seven thing, the D/s. Some people do it, but…” He shrugs and he picks upThe New York Timeshe’s folded over to a manageable size for reading one handed. “Wear what you want.”

Narrowing my eyes, I study him, trying to work out if he’s playing me or not.

Yes, he’s into this lifestyle. And whether I want to or not, as I admitted to myself last night, I like it. But I also think Mercer’s capable of pushing it to an every minute of every day thing if it suits him.

If he wants something from it.

Other, of course, than sex.

“I’m just new to it all.”

“You don’t say.”

I ignore his condescending tone. “I need to get my work from home.”

“For school?”

I nod.

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