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Bennett leans forward and pulls me to him at the same time. Everything within me screams for me to get away, to gain some distance, but like a flightless bird, I can’t do anything except stare at him. Now he’s so close I can see the flecks of ice in his eyes, the blue so hypnotizing I momentarily get lost in his gaze.
“Call it morbid curiosity, or blame it on my ego,” he says, his voice dark, laced with an uncharacteristic urgency, “but I need to uncover the mystery surrounding you.” He clears his throat. “I mean, your family. I’m willing to do this free of charge. All you have to do is answer a few questions.”
I yank my wrist from his hold, unable to think with his fingers on my skin. Then I plop the cake pop into my mouth in order to give myself a brief reprieve, a few seconds to gather my thoughts before I answer him. I twirl the stick, and the sweet dessert glides over my tongue as my blood sugar spikes and my mind spins.
If I let him help me, I’ll have to converse with a man I dislike intensely. And divulge some personal information. While I’ve already done that with the private investigator, it feels different with Bennett. I can’t explain why giving him access to my life unsettles me in a way that goes beyond mere nervousness. The idea leaves me feeling empty and vulnerable, as if I’ve sold my soul to the devil.
On the other hand, I can’t afford to hire Calvin anymore, and having the lawyer work on my case for free is very appealing. Plus, Bennett has money and contacts that the P.I. doesn’t. If anything, the man in front of me is a better choice overall.
Then why can’t I bring myself to accept his help?
Because I don’t believe him.
He’s lying to me. I don’t know in what way, or why, but he is. I’ve always relied on my intuition, even when I was comfortable and safe back in my old life. However, now that I’m constantly fighting to survive, I rely on my gut more than I ever did.
It’s the reason I can sense danger in Bennett. The expensive suit and beautiful face are meant to distract, to lure unsuspecting prey. I might be in a precarious situation, but I can’t let this man completely destroy me.
And he would.
I swallow the sugar coating my tongue in preparation to speak. Bennett’s focus, riveted on my mouth, never wavers. My throat seizes at the glimmer in his eyes, the blue like fresh snow, bright and sparkling. I lower the cake pop, and it grazes my lips, leaving behind a trail of stickiness.
He follows my every movement with his gaze. His nostrils flare once, and he slides his hands from the table’s surface to place them in his coat pockets. Then he stiffens, his entire demeanor morphing into that of a marble statue, hard and cold yet still beautiful to look at.
A masterpiece.
“What is your answer, Miss Green?” His tone is harsh, like a slap to the face. “My patience has come to an end.”
“No.”
He narrows his eyes, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from changing my response. “Are you certain?” he asks.
I nod and point at the door with the cake pop, the white outer layer nearly gone. “Thank you for your time.”
He gets to his feet and adjusts his coat, bringing the ends together with a harsh snap of the material. “Should you change your mind, here’s my information.” He slaps a business card on the table. The letters and ink on it are like him: bold, harsh, and pristine.
I slide the card in his direction. “I won’t change my mind.”
He doesn’t move to pick up the item, nor does he look away from me. Inside, I’m wilting under his intense stare. The man doesn’t say a word, but it’s like he’s threatening me with his stance and his facial expression. That only hardens my resolve to be done with him.
I get to my feet, ignoring the shaking of my legs, and place the cake pop inside my mouth, a sign that this conversation is over. Somehow—which I highly suspect has to do with a sugar rush combined with adrenaline—I make it back to the register without tripping and falling. When I look up, Bennett is gone.
So why am I not relieved?
Chapter9
Calista
Even though it’sbeen several hours, I’m still not able to put my conversation with Bennett behind me. However, as I stare at the door leading into the T&A, my trepidation rises, giving me something to think about other than the infuriating lawyer.
Like the fact that I’m about to wear an outfit so skimpy I might as well be naked.
But, I’d rather work in this seedy bar than accept Bennett’s help.
With that resolve firmly planted in my brain, I pull on the door handle and step inside. Just like it did the first time I walked in here, the place and its customers have my skin prickling with unease, and I nearly do an about-face. The music pounds through the speakers, and the numerous male voices make up the rest of the place’s soundtrack along with the clinking of glass behind the bar. The lighting is dim, dark enough to hide the grime.
And hopefully, my disgust.
Gripping the strap of my backpack, I walk straight up to the bar and lean on the counter. The bartender does a double-take when he sees me, but then his mouth spreads into a licentious grin.
