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“There are no refunds on innocence, Luc. It’s not a tree limb or an octopus tentacle. Once it’s gone, that’s it.”
“That’s not true if it’s not something you wanted to give up in the first place.”
I shake my head, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I just didn’t want to be like them.”
“How badly did these men hurt you? How badly do you want them to pay?”
My breathing scatters as I remember the catcalls, the whistling, the leers a fifteen-year-old shouldn’t have to fend off from men twice her age. Todd and Sheldon were the worst, with Todd constantly placing his hands on me whenever my father left the room, and Sheldon being the one to steal my virginity.
And the fact that I was seventeen when that happened didn’t even phase my father. He’d just smiled when he found out, said everything was going according to plan.
Dominic Harrison pimped me out to his friend, a man expected to uphold the values of this country, for clout and cash.
How badly do you want them to pay?
Glancing at the list, I reach over and mark out all but four names: the ones who destroyed me and the one who unwittingly put me back together again. The one avenging me.
Luca folds his hands and tucks them beneath his chin, elbows propped on the desk, cigarette burning. The butt flickers orange, enticing in the unwavering life it holds despite not being touched. “I’m going to help you, Care, but not if we half-ass this. These are men that deserve worse than what they did to you.”
“Ican’t very well kill two grown men in a packed club.”
“No,youcan’t.” Sucking on the cigarette again, he smiles on the exhale, smoke falling from behind his teeth. He looks at that last name and back at me. “You were never supposed to. There’s only one person who can.”
I suppose it should make me nervous when I leave Luca’s office building and am met by my husband, leaning against the door of a black SUV I’ve never seen before. The only cars parked in our driveway are expensive, luxury vehicles that no one ever takes out, almost like they’re just for show.
But it doesn’t. If anything, it sends a perverted tingle down my spine at his protectiveness, along with a shot of annoyance.
Technically, he’s just doing his duty as my partner, but still. I don’t need a fucking stalker.
He looks delicious standing there; thick arms crossed over the chest of his black suit, a practiced, bored expression on his face. His dark hair swoops over one eyebrow, obscuring the slight quirk there, the strands just begging to be tugged.
Fuck, no. Get a grip, Caroline. You’re on a mission, and this man is a target. You can’t allow your vagina to reduce you to a quivering puddle every time you see him.
There are plenty of attractive men in the world. Save yourself for one that doesn’t have a body count.
The glass door slams closed behind me, and the sunlight bounces off the frames of Elia’s Ray-bans, temporarily stunting my vision. Turning on my heel, I make a left and head down the dilapidated sidewalk, ignoring his presence entirely.
His footsteps thud on the sidewalk behind me, trailing close. We pass a few boutiques, trinket shops, and a couple of cafes; tourist traps meant to draw people in from Portland and Augusta, sometimes even Quebec. Folks with too much money and idle hands, itching for something to do.
That’s what my father was, decades ago, before he came in from Stonemore to settle down here. Just the heir to an old mining fortune, with a degree in public policy and a penchant for depravity. Underage girls, those whose daddies would do anything for association with a Harrison.
I don’t know what pushed my father to become one of those men, forcing me to do his networking and clean up messes I had no business even knowing about. But it’s the fuel to my internal fire—my need for revenge.
Elia keeps pace just behind me, a shadow I’m not in the mood for. “You know, you could throw your influence around town and ask the mayor to fix some of these sidewalks,” I grumble.
“It’s not my job to look after the city.” Catching up to my side, he falls into step with me, long legs dwarfing mine. “And anyway, I could say the same regarding your father, theactualbureaucrat. Giving his hometown a makeover seems like just the kind of publicity that could launch his campaign into the stratosphere.”
I snort. Fat chance of there even being a campaign, if I have my way. “Maybe you should mention that at the upcoming fundraiser.”
“Maybe we can bring it up together?”
I freeze mid-step, whirling to face him. He mimics my stance, eyes unreadable through his dark lenses. “I’m not going to that.”
“Caroline.” He inches closer, mouth turning down at the corners. His ridiculously plush, kissable mouth. My thighs tense of their own accord as he cups my jaw in his rough palm. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight after the other day, you can think again.”
Jerking away does me little good; he steps in again, barring my body against the storefront we’ve stopped in front of, gripping the other side of my face in his free hand. He cradles it like precious cargo, and I try to ignore the fluttering in my stomach, the way moisture slickens between my legs.
I don’twantto mean anything to this man.
