The Pawn (Endgame #1)(57)

I blink, but there’s no fighting these tears. They fill my eyes and fall in shameful drops down my cheeks. He lets go of my hair with a rough sound.

“We got too close,” I say, my voice uneven. “You’re scared, because—”

“Make excuses for me. Because Daddy kept a whorehouse, I never learned how to love, is that it? Tell me, little virgin. Did you imagine you could fix me? Did you think if you beat me at chess, I’d learn my lesson? But I won the game, didn’t I? You lost.”

Through the tears I see the beige pawn lying on the carpet. Discarded. Its usefulness over. That’s what I am here—my father’s daughter, bought to send a message. Fucked to drive that message home. He’s nothing if not thorough. And now my usefulness? It’s over.

I stare at his back as he walks into the bedroom, dismissing me.

He picks up the half-empty bottle of moonshine from the table.

How could I have cared about him? But it doesn’t matter. I still care about him, even now that I know he’s every bit the monster I feared. The heart is the cruelest enemy of all.

With my heart in my throat, I move to leave. I’m standing with my hand on the knob, trying to make sense of it. I spent so long thinking about defeating the Minotaur that I didn’t consider he might just let me go.

I didn’t consider that I would have liked to stay.

Part of me wants to go to him, to demand that he explain why he’s kicking me out, to make him see we have something deeper. Except I barely know that myself. It’s a shock to realize I’ve come to care for him, this man of precious metal and revenge, of carved wood and heartache.

I’m supposed to hate him.

From across the room comes a terrible crash, making me jump. I turn to see the thick moonshine bottle in shards against the iron grate in the fireplace, a ship against jagged rocks, embattled by the storm.

Gabriel destroyed it, that last memento from his father.

How had I forgotten his violence? Why had I been so sure he wouldn’t use it against me? Fear runs through my veins, cold and thin. I may not hate Gabriel Miller, but I’m still afraid of him. Then I’m running through the halls, trying to remember my way back, trying to find the way out.





Chapter Thirty-One





I’d like to slink away in silent disgrace, but I don’t have a car. I also don’t have the address to call a cab. I consider using my phone’s location to request an Uber, but I’m pretty sure there’s a fence around the property. I don’t need another confrontation like the one with Justin.

So in a humiliating walk of shame, I head downstairs.

The kitchen is empty, but I find Mrs. Burchett in a room off to the side, reading a book. She stands as soon as she sees me. “Oh, hello, dear. Are you hungry? I can heat up…” Then her shrewd eyes take in my expression. She makes a tsk sound. “What do you need, dear?”

“I think…a cab.” I flush, ashamed because surely my hair and rumpled clothes give away what I’ve just done. I probably even smell like sex. “He said I should go.”

She shakes her head as if admonishing Gabriel. “I’ll call a car around.”

“No, just a cab—”

Her lips purse together. “He’ll want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” I mutter.

She types something into her phone, clearly as proficient with an iPhone as she is with a rolling pin. “I know he can be a bear, but he does care about you.”

I flinch. He’s just made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t, but I have no desire to spell it out for Mrs. Burchett. That’s a pretty magical cunt you must have. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, but it does,” she insists. “He made sure your father was taken care of. It damn near killed him to wait until that night to send someone to help you.”

“He had to. The auction—”

“Gabriel Miller doesn’t have to do anything. He set the terms because he knew you needed help. That’s why he sent someone to watch over you, once he heard there was someone watching you.” She casts a worried glance into the dark night. “Imagine he’ll do the same now that you’re going back.”

“You’re wrong. That guard was from Damon, protecting his investment.”

She clearly doesn’t believe me. “Well, you be careful regardless. The world is full of dangerous people, Ms. James.”

Headlights flash from the drive.

That’s the story of how I end up in a limo two hours after I lost my virginity.

The driver doesn’t ask any questions, for which I’m grateful. I cross my arms in front of me, holding tight as if I can keep myself from breaking into a thousand different pieces.

I’m not sure what I thought I’d be returning to when I left for the auction. Some chance at a normal life? College? Marriage? It all feels so far removed. Impossible words. I’ve lost the ball of string somewhere along the way. I might be going home, but I’m still in the maze.

All I have with me is my purse. Mrs. Burchett assured me that my clothes and things would be delivered tomorrow. He’ll want to make sure you have everything right away. Or maybe he’d just throw it all into the fire like his father’s moonshine.