And I definitely didn’t want to let her know just how nervous I was. Something about tonight…it was…off. I couldn’t be sure if it was lack of sleep and the strain from yesterday, or if I had a right to be concerned. Either way, I didn’t need Tess panicking over nothing. It was my job to carry the burden of safety and I’d finally fixed her—I refused to believe my time was almost up.
Damn motherfucking time.
But you’ll get into her head. Free access.
Even if she refused a question, I would know what topics to chase; I’d understand her better by her avoidance, as much as her acquiescence.
But that would work both ways. Tess would know—even when I refused to tell her.
Was I in denial? Possibly. But it made me a happier person not having to deal with the shit coating my soul. Or the evilness encroaching on our future.
A pair of green eyes filled my mind.
Fuck.
It’d been so long since I let myself think about her. Forcing her far away—pretending she never existed. It was easier that way. Liveable that way.
I dragged a hand through my hair, desperate for more whiskey. I wanted to be seriously drunk for this—but then my mouth would be loose—my reactions compromised. Tapping my ankle against the chair leg, I let the small scabbard and knife strapped to my calf comfort me.
I can’t be drunk.
My tongue would forget to lie; the truth would spill free—Tess would know exactly what I wanted to keep hidden.
The only way to get through this was to stay stone-cold sober.
Looking at Tess, I forced my heart from tripping like I’d taken a vial full of coc**ne. Tonight was all about tripping her up. She wanted to play? Fan-fucking-tastic. I’d use it to my advantage, then I’d f**k her like I’d been dying to do since I’d strapped her to the cross in my bedroom.
Tess took a hearty drink, hesitation clouding her face. She caught my eye, only to look away with a flicker of a smile. Great—she was nervous. As she should be, because I was about to rip into her past, learn all her secrets, and ruin any idea of privacy.
The waiter appeared with more drinks; I waved him away once he’d delivered. I’d eyed him thoroughly when we first arrived—wondering, suspecting. But he seemed harmless enough.
Taking a deep breath, I glared at Tess, tasting all the questions I had for her—wondering which one to start with. I’d wanted so many times to get inside her head—now that opportunity was all mine.
What’s your secret fantasy?
If you could change a part of me—what would it be?
How many men have kissed you?
I knew how many sexual partners she’d had. Goddammit, I did not want to go down that line of questioning. Already, anger scalded my veins at the memory of walking in on that rutting motherfucking bastard Lefebvre raping her.
My hands curled. Shooting him had been too kind—no sense of justice for what he’d done. He’d gone after Tess because of my f**king father and his empire of trading women. My own flesh and blood used them worse than possessions—carelessly killing them when they were no longer tradable, f**kable. Goddammit, don’t think about him either.
Family.
I knew nothing about Tess’s family. That might be a good line of questioning.
Why have you never mentioned your parents?
The pain in my heart made me physically wince.
Nope, couldn’t go that way either. The moment I pried in that area of her life, she’d turn it around and ask me. Family was strictly out of bounds.
Christ, what else was there?
I’m exhausted, and we haven’t even begun.
Would Tess really want to know I lost my virginity to a slave who I’d saved before sending her home to her father? Did she really want to know the sick and awful thoughts plaguing me on a daily basis?
Shit, I should stop this right now, before any harm could be done. It was ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous.
Tess took a large gulp of her drink.
I paused. The panic in my system faded a little; I narrowed my eyes. Tess’s cheeks were flushed, her body not as effortlessly poised.
A smile spread over my lips. I had to stay sober, but this entire game would play right into my hands if I got her drunk. If she lost all inhibitions any question was answerable, and anything I wanted to do to her when we got back to the hotel would be welcome. If she wasn’t sober my anxiety of being in public and the horrible feeling of dread would go unnoticed.
If I got her drunk—I was free.
I grabbed my tumbler of whiskey, saluting her. “Cheers. Here’s to Truth or Dare.”
She smiled, clinked glasses, then took a large sip. False courage already. I wanted to laugh. This would work. Then I frowned—why was she so nervous? What the hell was she so afraid to tell me?
A plate smashed in the kitchen, ratcheting my heartbeat as every muscle prepared to wrench my knife free and kill. Kill them before they could kill me.
Because that’s what they wanted. That’s what I refused to think about and never wanted Tess to guess.
Silence stretched between us; I threw a large mouthful of the fiery liquid down my throat. Curling my hand around my glass, I muttered, “I’ll go first.”
Tess looked up, her eyes popping wide. “Oh…okay.” Her fingers played with the stem of the martini glass, trying to hide her apprehension. She couldn’t hide it—not from me.
“I know you have an older brother. Why don’t you ever mention him?”
Go hard or f**king go home. I wanted to know about her family—hopefully she’d be too drunk to remember to repay the question to me.
She gasped, leaning forward. “How do you know I have a brother? I never mentioned him.”
Silly girl. I’d sent her back to Australia. But I never stopped watching. How could I when I knew I’d fallen head over f**king heels that night she gave me everything? I’d taken her pain virginity—I’d welcomed her into my clutches, then released her—knowing I’d ruined her but unable to keep her against her will any longer.
I raised my eyebrow. “I’ve put a tracker in your wedding ring—did you honestly think I wouldn’t check on you from time to time in Melbourne?” Time to time—meaning every f**king minute. I’d been an obsessed creep.
“You spied on me?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “Spied…kept you safe. Same difference.”
She laughed. “Hardly. But okay—if that’s your first question. I’ll answer it.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yes, I have an older brother. His name is Samuel, and he’s twenty years older than me. He wanted a younger sister about as much as my parents wanted another child.”