Page 98 of Spock’s Snare

“The lady asked you a question.” His voice is low and terrifyingly calm. “You’re going to answer her, or I’m going to keep hitting you until you do.”

Blackwood spits blood onto the floorboard.

Spock draws back his fist again.

“Yes!” Blackwood blurts. “It was me. All of it.”

The confession punches the air from my lungs, even though some part of me already knew.

“You sabotaged the site?”

“Yes.”

“You hurt my father?”

Blackwood looks away. “He got in the way.”

Rage burns through the last remnants of my fear. “You could’ve killed him.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“And the message?”

His gaze crawls back to me. “I left it.”

“Why?” My voice cracks. “Why would you do any of that?”

His face twists as if I’m the one being unreasonable.

“Because you were meant to be mine.”

A chill snakes down my spine.

“I asked you out first,” he continues. “Before him. Before that dirty biker started following you around and filling your head with lies.” His eyes shift to Spock, and his mouth curls into a sneer. “I was going to make you understand that you needed me. The problems at the site, the threats—I was going to protect you from them. You would’ve turned to me eventually.”

“You created the danger so I’d ask you to save me?”

“You wouldn’t give me a chance!”

The sudden shout makes me recoil, but Spock shifts between us, shielding me with his body.

Blackwood glares past him. “You chose some filthy criminal over a man who could’ve taken care of you.”

Spock looks at him for a long second before belting out a laugh.

It isn’t a warm sound. There’s no humor in it. Just cold certainty that strips Blackwood’s insult of whatever power he thought it possessed.

“You thought terrorizing her would make her love you?” Spock shakes his head. “And you think I’m the sick bastard?”

“I love her!”

“No,” I say.

Both men look at me.

I step around Spock far enough to meet Blackwood’s gaze one final time. “You don’t love me. You wanted to own me. There’s a difference.”

“Chloe—”