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“You do.”
“So cocky.”
“I see no point in denying that.” Placing his now empty plate on the nightstand with his unoccupied hand, he shifts to face me a little, a subtle turn of hips that pushes those long, calloused fingers against my still-sensitive clit. “We both know who we are and where we stand; the only thing I need clarification on is the murder of Lane Dermot.”
“You swing without lubing me up first.”
His chuckle warms me even when I should be annoyed. “Always aim to please.”
“All right, dork. How much do you know?”
All traces of amusement die and he’s back to being the stone-faced killer I met weeks ago. “Nothing but what I told you. Please fill in the blanks.”
“Okay. But first…” I put my plate down and reach for the large afghan I keep on my bed at all times, pulling it over my naked body “…for distractions’ sake.”
“I’d rather you don’t.”
“I’d rather a few things as well, but they’re not conducive to this conversation.” Javi grunts but doesn’t pull my blanket away. Instead, he gives me his attention and waits with patience for me to begin. “Lane and I met years ago when I was still in high school, and we became friends. You know, the kids of affluent families that didn’t fully abide by the law and run in the same social circles, we bumped into each other a lot. He was older than me, a jerk to most and spoiled, but never disrespectful toward me.”
“How long did you date?”
“Two years, and no, I didn’t love him then or now.” For some reason, I’m ashamed to admit my faults to this man. To let him see me as anything but a smart, fierce, and independent woman. “My reality now isn’t what it was back then, Javi. I made bad choices. Let others dictate my life.”
“Malcolm?” There’s venom in his tone, and while I still don’t meet his eyes, I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers. Squeeze them. “Did he force you?”
“No. He hated Lane.”
“Then who?”
“My parents.”
“I haven’t met them.” Not a question, although his raised brow and pursed lips show displeasure. He’s demanding an explanation without uttering the words, but I read those warm brown eyes, and the anger in them isn’t directed at me.
“And you more than likely won’t for a long time.” Sighing, I reach over to the bedside table and pick up my bottle of water, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. It gives me a small reprieve, the moment needed to explain the dynamic he isn’t aware of. “They’ve been exiled to Europe for the foreseeable future by Malcolm for their role and the audacity to try and pin the incident on me.”
“Incident?”
“I killed Lane the night he attacked me in this apartment two years ago. A few days before our anniversary/engagement dinner was to be held.”
***
16
PRIDE SURGES THROUGH my chest at her words.
She put the dog down with mercy because had he still been alive today—breathing and walking this earth—I’d have hunted him down and left his entrails for Mildred to find.
“Do you threaten all the men you meet?” I say, and she giggles a bit, the tension in her shoulders dropping. Is she worried I’d think differently of her? Because if anything, I’m in awe of her and fuming at her parents.
How could they sell their child out this way?
“Are your parents active members on the Asher board?” Because if they are, I’ll talk to Malcolm and make the bounty on their heads worthy of his acquiesce. Not that it will stop me, but I don’t want Mariah to lose anyone she cares about.
“No.” A wayward curl glides across her shoulder and I bring my hand up to her face, turning to fully face her and push it back, tucking the loose strand behind her ear. She shivers, and I see the two hard little tips beneath the blanket. “After going behind Malcolm’s back and making a deal to expand territories—overthrow two other families that deal in the city in exchange for helping my father claim my cousin’s rightful place, everything was taken. Money, properties, and access to all Asher dealings and buildings around the globe. They’ve been left with a small monthly allowance to live off and that’s it.”
“Do you talk to them?” Sadness flashes in those seafoam eyes briefly, but just as fast it’s gone. “Miss them?”
“Not since my last birthday seven months ago.” Mariah pulls her hand from mine and stands, the blanket tightly wrapped around her lithe frame, and walks toward the bathroom. Her foot is over the threshold when she pauses and turns her head slightly, just enough for me to see the pain that lingers from their actions, and I vow at that moment to take it all away. To give her the life she deserves with a faithful man at her side. “That’s the day I buried them after being blamed for destroying their lives. They rather I’d died instead of the asshole who nearly choked me to death.”
