Say the Word(105)

His grin widened in response to the challenge my words had presented. “Even if it meant you could pay off your family’s debt? Even if it meant James would have the best care?” He paused to guarantee that his words would have the ultimate impact. “How much is your brother’s life worth, Lux? Is one, short-lived, high school romance that, in all likelihood, won’t even last, worth your brother dying before he turns twenty? Face it – men like my son might f*ck girls like you, but they certainly don’t marry them.”

I pressed my eyes closed. As much as I hated to admit it, as much as I wished it weren’t true, his words had their intended effect. They rattled around my mind like loose marbles in a jar, jumbling everything I thought I knew — turning immovable morals and ethical codes into adjustable, ever-shifting margins. I had to consider his offer. The stakes were too high to disregard it without a thought.

Money could change things for my family — for Jamie, especially. He could have the best treatment, at a state-of-the-art facility in the city rather than a small, regional hospital in Jackson County. He could afford to apply for a place in clinical trials and have a private nurse to help him with rehab for his leg. He’d have the best doctors, surgeons, and medical staff at his disposal. A custom-fitted prosthetic. A unique treatment plan specifically tailored for his condition. A house with more than four rooms — somewhere that he could walk and exercise his atrophied muscles until his strength was fully recovered.

But could I give up the love of my life? My heart began to tear at just the thought.

“I can’t,” I whispered, seeing the beautiful future I’d painted for Jamie in my mind dissipate and fade to black. “I won’t.”

I’d find another way to give Jamie that life — this bribe wasn’t the right path for us. No one made a deal with a devil and walked away wholly unscathed.

“Tough girl.” Andrew chuckled, his Cheshire Cat smile only widening. “I thought you might say that. Thankfully, the first rule of political negotiation…” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another thin envelope. “Never put all your cards on the table in the first round, dear.”

He slid a thick, off-white document from the package, his fingers tracing the county clerk’s green stamp by the signature line with reverence.

“This, my dear, is a very special piece of paper. Do you see what it says here?” His index finger pointed to a line at the top of the sheet.





Deed of Sale


When I saw the property address and the name Andrew Covington listed as the new lot owner, I knew, with absolute clarity, that he’d backed me neatly into a corner. I’d been outmanned, outplayed — he held all the cards in this game, and I’d never even had a shot at beating him. There was the date of sale, in clear black and white — signed and stamped last week, by officials at the bank. My home, in the hands of a monster. My life, my family’s life, at his mercy.

“This is the deed to your house, dear.” Andrew turned fully in his seat to face me. “So, you see, I’m not just holding a document — I’m holding your fate in my hands. I thought you might need a little extra incentive to see things my way.”

I swallowed roughly.

“What, no brave words? Where did all that honor and courage go?”

I bit my lip to contain my scream.

Andrew chuckled. “I’m really doing you a favor by teaching you this lesson early on in life. See, honor only gets you so far.” He leaned in closer and I shied as far away from him as possible in the confined space, my side pressed firmly against the cool glass of the window. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: people who fight with honor are the ones who lose their battles. The winners write the history books — and winners rarely let things like integrity get in their way, dear.”

I took a deep breath. “What do you want?” I forced the quiet words from my lips, feeling like the worst kind of traitor.

“There’s my good girl! I knew you’d come around,” he crowed, tasting victory. “Tell me, Lux… Do you know what a non-disclosure agreement is?”





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Now


“Are you sure I have to do this?”

“Yes,” Fae said.

“It’s the only way,” Simon agreed.

I sighed. We’d been going back and forth about this for hours, discussing options and strategies for getting inside Labyrinth. Despite the absolutely feasible alternative plans I’d suggested — bribing a bouncer, finding a back-alley entrance or window, locating and utilizing Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak — they were resolute: I had to ask Sebastian to get me inside.

“But he’ll think this means he’s won,” I appealed, hoping they’d see reason. “He’ll think I’m conceding to tell him about our past. He’ll think I want to sleep with him!”

“You do want to sleep with him,” Simon pointed out.

“And you should tell him about your past,” Fae added.

“You know I can’t do that,” I muttered. “Plus, I called out sick from work today! If I call him, he’ll know I was lying. I could get in trouble.”

“Love, chances are he already knows you weren’t sick. You’re a terrible liar, so it’s doubtful Andrea or Angela or whatever her name is even bought your story.” Fae laughed lightly. “He probably thinks you’re just avoiding him — which is partly true. He just doesn’t know the rest of your reasoning.”