The Knight (Endgame #2)(18)
“Go to hell.”
“Maybe I should ask for your father’s permission to marry your sweet pussy.”
“Stop it.” I’m infuriated, almost out of breath with the force of my anger.
“Mr. St. James, I know that you and I have many differences, but I hope we can come together over our mutual enjoyment of a good fuck.”
“Don’t you dare talk about him. You don’t know anything about him.”
“I think you’re the one in the dark where your father is concerned.”
A scoffing sound escapes me. “And I should believe anything you say? You already gave fake evidence to the prosecutor so that you could get your revenge. You ruined him.”
“He cheated me.”
“That excuse is getting old. So what? He cheated you. You have more than enough money, and he has nothing. Don’t you care that he’s suffering? Don’t you see that he’s lost everything?”
“Not his loyal daughter. You rushed to his side as soon as you left me.”
“He had a heart attack!”
“And what if I’m sick,” he says, mocking. “Will you rush to my bedside?”
“Yes,” I say, words sharp with venom. “I’ll be there to watch your pain. And I’ll enjoy it.”
A chuckle. “Something to look forward to.”
I stalk away, trying to clear my head. Mind games. He’s only doing this to mess with me. He doesn’t care about the diary—and he doesn’t care about me, either. It’s about winning for him.
Turning to face him, I force myself to lower my eyes, to speak in deference. “Please, Gabriel. There must be some way I can convince you to give me the diary.”
His surprise ripples through the air, almost tangible. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you would like this,” I say, keeping my chin lowered, my voice soft.
If he wants me to beg, I’ll do it. If he needs this to feel like he won, I’ll give that to him. The diary is worth everything to me. More than the house. It has the answers to my mother.
The key to unlock my family’s past.
His stillness echoes louder than any command, settling around me like vines.
There’s something dark about being with Gabriel here—in the house where I grew up. In the legacy he took from me. In the place he might help me get back.
My voice is low. “What do you want?”
“Everything.”
“I’ve already given you that.”
“Not even close.” He stalks around me, circling like a predator. “I want you bent over and broken. I want you bleeding at my feet, little virgin.”
I shiver despite my determination. “You’re depraved.”
“That’s right.” He stands behind me, large hands clasped gently on my waist. It would be a tender embrace if I didn’t know his intentions. “And you’re the object of my depravity, the target of every dark wish, the canvas I want to paint. I won’t be satisfied until I’ve marked every inch of you, inside and out.”
A hard swallow. “Then why did you let me go?”
“Ah, little virgin,” he says gently. “So that I could chase you.”
Chapter Twelve
I knew where my mother was going based on the jewels she wore. Pearls for charity luncheons. Diamonds for society balls. That night she wore a large ruby pendant, a necklace I’d never seen before.
Where are you going, Mama?
A party, she said absently.
Can I come?
Her laugh was a strange sound. You’re too young, Avery. And thank God for that.
When will I be old enough?
She looked at me, her eyes softening. I don’t know, but it’s nothing to rush. Stay here, sweetheart. Stay small. That’s when you’re safe. Stay safe.
She left that night and never came home.
A drunk driver hit her. She died on the way to the hospital.
Daddy told me what happened in a rough voice, eyes red from crying. My eight-year-old brain didn’t want to believe it. I searched the house for her, convinced she was playing hide-and-seek, hoping that it was all a bad dream.
When I finally accepted she was gone, I crawled into bed and stayed there for two weeks. Both Daddy and Rosita begged me to eat, but I could only curl up beneath the covers, huddled in the dark as if the cramped, airless space wasn’t in the world without my mother.
As if it would keep me safe.
Gabriel reaches for me, and I react on instinct.
I whirl, dashing for the metal stairs. A low ottoman catches my foot, and I land hard on my knees. I can feel Gabriel behind me—his breath, his excitement. And then his hand on my wrist.
Something wild rattles inside me, and I let it free.
Without looking I kick backward, pulling a grunt from him. His grip loosens enough for me to twist away, and then I’m flying down the metal steps, dashing through the hallway.
I know this house better than him, but without furniture there’s nowhere to hide. Instinct alone propels me down the hall, hair flying behind me, breath shallow.
On some level I know it’s useless to run. He’ll only enjoy it. But the deeper animal side of me recognized the danger in his eyes. The sharpness of his teeth.