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Biting the inside of my cheek to stop the tears of anger, I nod firmly.
This motherfucker loves to assert his power as if anyone could ever forget. “Yer here for one reason only. And what’s that?”
I stand tall, hating myself more than I already do as I stonily reply, “To…seduce Puck Kelly and make him fall in love with me.”
And there it is…the ugly truth. The reason I’ve helped Punky. The reason I can’t leave him be.
At first, he was merely a means to an end, but the moment we met, I realized he was something more. But regardless of my feelings, if Punky ever knew who I really was and why I was sent to him, he’d have no qualms killing me for my betrayal.
He nods happily, brushing over my trembling bottom lip. “And?”
“And to uncover everything I can about the Kellys.”
“And what does that make ya?”
A tear trickles down my cheek. “It makes me a liar.”
“Aye, and no one could ever love a liar,” he says, wiping away my tear. “Ya think yer meeting was by chance? None of this is by chance. Ye all played right into my hands.
“I knew dressin’ the way ya did would spark his interest. As would doing something which would have him lookin’ for ya. Stealing from him was perfect. I gave ye orders, and ya ran with them. None of this makes sense. But it will.”
I hate him, and he knows it.
“Yer nothing but a liar. And a good one at that. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Never forget that. I own ya.”
I’ll never forget because no one can hate me more than I do myself.
He walks toward his desk and picks up the phone. He dials and offers it to me.Thisis the reason I’m doing this. This is the reason I’ve sold my soul to the devil.
I quickly accept, and when I hear that voice, I know what I have to do. Puck Kelly will hate me, but I’ll deal with the repercussions because nothing else matters…but this.
“Hello?” the voice says, heavy with burden.
I don’t speak. It’s been so long since I’ve heard that voice. I just want to absorb this rare moment in time because I’m happy. It soothes me, even this far away from home.
“Hi,” I finally reply, squeezing the phone tight, wishing it was them instead.
He’s watching me, so I can’t say what I want. I’m a prisoner—in every sense of the word.
“Oh, baby, I’ve missed you! Are you all right?”
He looks at me with a cocky grin, daring me to tell them otherwise.
“I’m fine. How are you, more importantly?”
“I’m okay. Just worried about you. Is it over?”
And that’s the million-pound question.
“Camilla?” the voice presses, reminding me this isn’t over…
Things have only just begun.
