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“Does it fit okay?” Pierce asked. There was no way to detect how he was feeling. Still transfixed by the rock on my finger, I nodded.
“Do you like it?”
“Well, it wasn’t the proposal of my dreams, but the ring is gorgeous.”
“Make sure you reflect on how much you like it when we see your father.”
His tone was matter of fact, as if this was no big deal, like it was not something that I should have been warned about days in advance.
“My…father?” I had to have misheard him. He could not seriously be taking me to the home of the man he stole me from.
“Yes, your father.”
“We can’t go to my dad’s house, Pierce! Are you insane? Did you forget how you got me here?”
“I fucked you, choked you, and then kidnapped you,” he responded without an ounce of sorrow or shame.
I gave him a completely unimpressed look. The man truly didn’t give a shit how crude or offensive he was. “So, you have a plan, right? I mean, we can’t just walk in hand in hand like we’re a happy couple getting back from a vacation.”
“For starters, this isn’t at your father’s house. It’s at an acquaintance of ours. Secondly, don’t insult my intelligence. There’s always a plan.”
I was torn between launching myself at him or jumping out of the car. He had to have been plotting this for quite some time.
“And then what? You think he’ll just sit and clap his hands for us? Throw some confetti?”
“Oh, he’ll be angry. He’ll probably want to kill me. He’s nothing but a fly that can be easily swatted. Why would you defend him after what he did to your sister?”
I looked out the window, unable to answer him. A range of emotions warred in my chest. I didn’t believe Seth had killed Cassie. However, I did believe she had been screwing both of them. My junkie sister was ruining my life from her grave. It was wrong to think of her that way, but we didn’t really have a bunch of happy memories together.
Her mistakes constantly reminded me of what I was: a game piece placed on a warped, twisted board. There were no wrong moves to be made when the man at my side knew exactly where to place me.
It was the consolidation prize that remained a mystery.
Whoever’s house we had just arrived at was, of course, loaded. There were cars parked in a line wrapping around the circular drive. Pierce came around to get my door for me, holding a hand out to help me from the car. I stood and hastily tugged down the dress, keeping my gaze trained on his shoes.
I had never really been self-conscious about the scars that marked my flesh but being around him made me view them with a level of loathing that was stronger than ever before. Pierce lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him.
As if he had read my mind, he repeated his words from earlier with a little more force. “You’re perfect.”
I searched his eyes, hoping to gain some kind of hint about what he was feeling or thinking. As per usual, I got nothing, knowing his steel wall would always keep a barrier between us. I couldn’t figure him out. Sometimes—like now—he was unbelievably sweet. Usually the man was cold, cruel, and hateful. Especially towards me.
“Let’s go.” He dropped his hand and stepped back, his demeanor changing before my eyes.
Men were moving about in suits, touching earpieces and speaking quietly.
I was used to seeing things like this. My father had a similar setup.
Shit, my father.
I’d momentarily forgotten what the hell was going on. I didn’t know how to pull off whatever I was supposed to be doing. Fuck, Pierce hadn’t even told me what I was supposed to be doing. I faltered, drawing the attention of the men guarding the front doors.
Pierce gripped my lower elbow, pulling me against him and turning so his back was blocking me from their view.
“You need to keep your shit together,” he hissed.
“I’m nervous; don’t snap at me,” I hissed right back.
He wrapped his arms around my waist. Do you want me to fuck you in the backseat before we go in? Maybe then you’ll relax.” His voice was low, taunting.
“What if I did?” I stared into his eyes, challenging him.
“We would never make it to the car. I’d fuck you in the middle of the driveway.”
“Liar. You would never let the guards see me.” I smiled, and he smirked. God, we were dysfunctional.
“You’re right. Because this,” he grabbed my ass and squeezed, “is mine and exclusive for my eyes.” Before I could register his words, he pivoted, grabbing my hand and moving forward.
I mentally berated myself for the thousandth time. I hated that I wanted him in the most animalistic way. He’d kidnapped me, had a thing for my dead sister, killed his father, and now wanted to kill mine.
