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“I’m not sure I want to know,” I say.
She sits on her ass, crossing her legs. I realize then that my ankles and legs are burning from being crouched down for so long, so I follow her lead, sitting beside her. We don’t talk for a moment, and then Wryn’s hand tickles my skin as she tries to wedge her fingers between mine, clutching me. I don’t hate it.
“What do you think the combination is?” Wryn asks.
I ponder her question.What would a man like Bertrand use as a combination? Would it be someone’s birthday? Sylvia’s? Mine or Lilliana’s? Or would it be a random combination of numbers?
The latter is most likely. He wasn’t a sentimental man, I don’t think. I could open this safe and find out the complete opposite.
What could he have that would require such secrecy that I don’t already have access to?
The question makes my stomach churn. I have a sinking dread that I might already know the answer. I think this safe might hold the full sum of his sins. The proof I need of things he never spoke about, but I always wondered.
The urgent need to have it open, to know, shoots through me, and I lean forward, dragging in a breath. I pull my hand from Wryn’s and rub it down my face. This office seems so small and suffocating right now. I want to get out, and I don’t want to leave at the same time.
“Are you okay?” Wryn asks.
I nod. Of course I’m okay. I have to be okay. There’s no room for weakness here. I think she sees through the act, but she doesn’t say anything.
She rises and walks across the room to stand behind my desk, and then I hear her open and close drawers. She rifles through things, then moves on when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but she doesn’t stop.
“Looking for a combination.”
“He wouldn’t have kept it written down inside a drawer. Not for a safe he had hidden in his floor beneath a rug.”
“He must have left it somewhere for you.”
“I’m not sure he ever intended for me to find this.”
“Oh.” She shuts the drawer she had open and then places her hands on her hips. She worries her bottom lip. At this rate, she won’t have one anymore once she bites it off.
I look back down. It’s a small safe, maybe one foot wide and tall. It’s black, and the dial is silver. Nondescript. Hiding God only knows what.
“Well, how do we open a safe without the combination?” she finally asks.
I lean forward, wedging my fingers between the floorboards and the sides and lifting. It’s not as heavy as I thought it would be, and soon, it’s sitting beside me as I place the floor back together and smooth the rug down and put the table back into place.
“We could drill into it.”
“Where are the drills?”
She starts walking toward the door, and I bend down to grab the safe and walk over to my desk, setting it down. The lock is a traditional dial, where you spin it and line it up for the correct code. I rack my brain, trying to think if I’ve seen anything resembling a string of numbers located in the files my father left behind. But I come up empty.
“I’ll get one later. I want to see if I can find a combination first.”
“Don’t you want to know what’s inside sooner rather than later?”
Do I?Yes. But I also think that it will change things for me. Whatever Bertrand deemed important enough to put in here wasn’t for my eyes—wasn’t for anyone’s eyes—to see and opening it will be like opening Pandora’s box. Things I’ve only wondered will probably become truths.
I’ll have to be okay with that.
“Yes. Just not tonight,” I say, turning and wrapping one hand around her neck, pulling her to me. “I’ve got other plans.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “What kind of plans?”
“I plan to fuck you in every position.”
