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A girl’s scream.
No concern of mine.
Except out of the corner of my eye, the cause for her scream becomes clear—she’s been picked up by pig-faced Brett Gannon and is seconds away from being chucked in the pool. Judging by how desperately she twists in his arms, this is the last thing she wants. She probably can’t swim.
Again, no concern of mine.
Except I notice who it is—the daughter of my second arch nemesis on this planet, Ernest Adams.
Little Delphine struggles in Gannon’s arms; she puts up one hell of a fight given their size difference.
But she’s no match for him. His sheep followers egg him on, guffawing and whooping at the air. They want him to toss her in.
I should mind my fucking business—
I choose confrontation. Gannon gapes at me like a dumb oaf. One intimidating glare and threat, and he’s releasing her. She’s stumbling, disoriented by the turn of events. Her top’s torn. I grab her hand without thinking on it.
She has no business here.
Though other thoughts fill my head. Ways Ernest Adams’s precious baby girl can actually serve a purpose. As she lets me tug her along, I make a split-second decision.
She changes into one of my shirts, wanders out onto the balcony connected to my bedroom, wearing such an innocent look I can’t help grinning. Despite the little tough act she puts up, she’s just a lost lamb; a silly girl with no clue what she’s gotten herself into.
I invade her space. I make her shift and suck in some air. Her hand comes up to my chest as I peer into her eyes, getting close like I’m about to kiss her—it’s not the worst idea, considering she’s a cute girl with nice, full lips.
“Am I making you nervous?” I ask her.
She bites the bottom lip I’m thinking about tasting for myself. “Yes…”
“Why?”
“Because… because you’re not supposed to be this close,” she whispers.
So this really will be fun. The bad kind. Fucking with her to get to Ernest Adams. The girl won’t know what hit her by the time I’m through…
Ice-cold water pours over me, jolting me awake. My body aches and my lungs shake. I’m squinting up at a fuzzy figure looming over me with a bucket.
“Get the fuck up,” snarls one of the soldiers. One I beat up who knows how long ago. He’s sporting a busted lip and black-and-blue bruises elsewhere. I’m in far worse condition, but it’s satisfying seeing the damage I caused on these minions.
He must read my mind, picking up on my pleasure at his injuries, because he kicks me hard in the ribs.
Ribs I’m certain are already broken. I cough and curl up as sharp pain seizes me in my side. It spreads to my chest, making it that much harder to breathe.
I’ve never been in worse shape; every part of me hurts. My injuries are so extensive they cover a mile-long inventory list. I lost track sometime after the severe beating I took following what happened with Delphine.
By the time they exacted their revenge on me, I was numb. I didn’t feel a thing as they took turns swinging, kicking, electrocuting me. They suffocated me during another waterboarding session, and then I was flogged ’til my back was torn open (again). Afterward, they dumped me back in my cell, where I’ve been laying for who knows how long.
You’d think I’d beg for death.
But I’ve been dead silent since they took her away. Too lost in my head.
Lucius ruined my ability to escape into fantasy. Thegoodkind of fantasies like before. Instead, I’ve just been replaying moments from the past.Notthe good kind, but the ones I wish I could change.
The night I entered Delphine’s life; the night I decided I’d use her and make her fall in love with me.
It’s my fault. Everything she’s been through. If I’d just left her alone…
You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.
