Page 50 of Total Exposure

It makes him hard. His cock throbs for hidden things. He comes on the face of your privacy.

That’s his price and everyone pays it.

Looking back, I have to say, I got nothing out of that game. Not a single win. Yeah, I knew the truth. That’s what Jordan kept telling me. “You’re getting to the bottom of things. Solving the mystery of your family.”

But since when is that a victory? Don’t all families have secrets? Shouldn’t most of those stay in that dark closet where we put them?

I lost a part of myself getting to the bottom of things. And the sad part is… I don’t care anymore. I’m like him now. I want it. I crave it. He knows this. He paired us up for a reason and your doctor, good intentions notwithstanding, has nothing to do with what’s happening right now.

I want to own those things inside you. All those sick, bloody fears that make you afraid to leave your house. I want your memories. I want your stories. I want your secrets.

If you stay here with me and we play his game together, we’re gonna take them, Evangeline. We’re gonna take everything you’ve got bottled up in that messed-up head and shake it out of you. And if you think that little tease of a show you put on for me this morning can compete with the mind fuck we’ll be subjecting you to… think again.

His game is my game.

His rules are my rules.

I am Jordan’s sick obsession.

So stay and play if your prize is so precious.

We’ll deliver what you need, we always do.

I’ll go one step further and give you me in return.

Take me. I’m yours.

But know going in… you’re mine right back. And you will never be the same.

If your answer is yes, then start writing. I want to know why you’re here and I want the truth.

And yes. I’ll know if it’s a lie.

That story had better be good or I’ll walk out. Leave you here. And you’ll be right back where you started. Alone. Afraid. The loser.

So write for me, Evangeline. Leave it on the kitchen counter, go outside, wait thirty minutes, and then come back inside for your next command.

X

Chapter Seventeen - Evangeline

Stunned silence is my reaction to what he just wrote. In fact, I have to read it several times over to make sure I’m getting this right.

But I am, in fact, getting this right.

He’s an asshole.

No. He’s a psychopath.

I look up at the nearest camera and shake my head. “Total exposure,” I whisper. “Well, you’re not getting that. I’m getting exactly what I need from you and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna tell you anything. I don’t even know you. And what kind of name is X anyway?” I huff out some air. “X.” I toss the notebook on the counter. It goes sliding across the smooth stone surface, stopping just short of falling off the edge.

I turn away, walk into another hallway and follow it to the ballroom. There’s a nice view of the tree with the swing. I sit on the couch facing the window and imagine him in here, watching me out there.

“Are you sure that’s how you want this to go?”

The voice is gruff and crackly, coming through an intercom positioned on the wall that looks like it’s decades old. Masculine behind the static. Hard-edged and deep underneath the distortion.

“Not knowing might kill you,” the voice continues. At least that’s what I think he said. One or two words are half missing from the bad connection.