was the perfect place.”
“I believe you,” I say quietly.
“But then my mom got sick. I had to stop painting for a while so I could take care of her. I thought I had enough money to make it through. But the bills kept piling on, and I couldn’t keep up.” She sniffles and wipes her nose. I don’t think this girl could do a single thing that isn’t beautiful. Even her crying face has the exotic angles that have been driving me crazy for a week.
“When Grady offered me the loan at first, I thought he was saving the day. I really did.” At the mention of his name, my stomach clenches. I know exactly what the bastard had done. He saw a pretty, naïve girl who had gotten trapped in an unlucky situation, and he just pounced, as if she was prey. It made me sick.
But that thought came with another: hadn’t I done the same? Didn’t I manipulate people? Didn’t I extort, pressure, rob? Didn’t I take?
I couldn’t deny it. How could I be so sure that I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I were in Grady’s position? I know I’m not the same as him. He’s a true monster. Me, I’m just an outlaw. But I’d be lying if I said that, even now, I’m not searching for an angle so I can squeeze what I want from this girl. My heart might feel one thing, and my dick might even agree. But my mind is the same relentless survivor it has always been, prowling for leverage, never stopping. It’s not a thought I enjoy entertaining.
“He’s from a rich family. He never needed the money. When he offered it to me, I thought it was a gift. He told me he’d take care of me.” Her knee bounced up and down frantically just inches from mine. Our eyes were locked together.
“But right before he gave me the check, he told me he needed something from me, too. He said he wanted a wife. He’d bought a ring and everything, and he was almost… nice , in a way. Nice enough that I never could have imagined all of this happening. I didn’t know what else to do. I said yes.”
Of course she did. Grady found her, pushed her into a corner, and then acted like he was the one showing her the way out. In reality, he was just blocking any hope of an escape. My fists curl.
“Everything went downhill from there. I couldn’t believe how fast it all fell apart. He made me move in with him. Then he said it was a loan, not a gift, and that I needed to start paying him back. I tried, I really did. But it just wasn’t enough. He wanted too much at once. I couldn’t make it happen.”
Something breaks loose and the tears begin to pour down her face. Her back shakes as she sobs into the heels of her hands. I pull her head on my lap and stroke her cheek. She’s limp, putty, Jell-O in my hands.
“Shh,” I murmur. “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re out.”
I don’t know how long we sit like that. It is a while until she calms down and starts to breathe again. I just keep stroking her cheek, over and over, trying to bring her back to reality. Soon, she sits up and looks at me. I see a clench in her jaw.
“I hate him. I hate him.”
The venom in her voice is surprising. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he hasn’t ruined her. Maybe Kendra still has some fire left, just a few sparks remaining. If I try, if I say the right things and touch her the right way, I just know that I could be the one to revive them.
I pull her into a hard kiss. It’s not quite angry, although there’s some edge to it, but it’s not soft, either. It’s somewhere in the middle, bouncing back and forth between a careful tenderness and the blazing passion that I know we both feel.
Our tongues lash together, separate, then spar again. I push back, lowering Kendra onto her back on the couch. I hear the twin thumps of her heels hitting the floor. She’s still in her wedding dress. The fabric is spread across the cushions.
I want to feel her skin. Pushing up her dress, I grip the outsides of her
“I believe you,” I say quietly.
“But then my mom got sick. I had to stop painting for a while so I could take care of her. I thought I had enough money to make it through. But the bills kept piling on, and I couldn’t keep up.” She sniffles and wipes her nose. I don’t think this girl could do a single thing that isn’t beautiful. Even her crying face has the exotic angles that have been driving me crazy for a week.
“When Grady offered me the loan at first, I thought he was saving the day. I really did.” At the mention of his name, my stomach clenches. I know exactly what the bastard had done. He saw a pretty, naïve girl who had gotten trapped in an unlucky situation, and he just pounced, as if she was prey. It made me sick.
But that thought came with another: hadn’t I done the same? Didn’t I manipulate people? Didn’t I extort, pressure, rob? Didn’t I take?
I couldn’t deny it. How could I be so sure that I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I were in Grady’s position? I know I’m not the same as him. He’s a true monster. Me, I’m just an outlaw. But I’d be lying if I said that, even now, I’m not searching for an angle so I can squeeze what I want from this girl. My heart might feel one thing, and my dick might even agree. But my mind is the same relentless survivor it has always been, prowling for leverage, never stopping. It’s not a thought I enjoy entertaining.
“He’s from a rich family. He never needed the money. When he offered it to me, I thought it was a gift. He told me he’d take care of me.” Her knee bounced up and down frantically just inches from mine. Our eyes were locked together.
“But right before he gave me the check, he told me he needed something from me, too. He said he wanted a wife. He’d bought a ring and everything, and he was almost… nice , in a way. Nice enough that I never could have imagined all of this happening. I didn’t know what else to do. I said yes.”
Of course she did. Grady found her, pushed her into a corner, and then acted like he was the one showing her the way out. In reality, he was just blocking any hope of an escape. My fists curl.
“Everything went downhill from there. I couldn’t believe how fast it all fell apart. He made me move in with him. Then he said it was a loan, not a gift, and that I needed to start paying him back. I tried, I really did. But it just wasn’t enough. He wanted too much at once. I couldn’t make it happen.”
Something breaks loose and the tears begin to pour down her face. Her back shakes as she sobs into the heels of her hands. I pull her head on my lap and stroke her cheek. She’s limp, putty, Jell-O in my hands.
“Shh,” I murmur. “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re out.”
I don’t know how long we sit like that. It is a while until she calms down and starts to breathe again. I just keep stroking her cheek, over and over, trying to bring her back to reality. Soon, she sits up and looks at me. I see a clench in her jaw.
“I hate him. I hate him.”
The venom in her voice is surprising. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he hasn’t ruined her. Maybe Kendra still has some fire left, just a few sparks remaining. If I try, if I say the right things and touch her the right way, I just know that I could be the one to revive them.
I pull her into a hard kiss. It’s not quite angry, although there’s some edge to it, but it’s not soft, either. It’s somewhere in the middle, bouncing back and forth between a careful tenderness and the blazing passion that I know we both feel.
Our tongues lash together, separate, then spar again. I push back, lowering Kendra onto her back on the couch. I hear the twin thumps of her heels hitting the floor. She’s still in her wedding dress. The fabric is spread across the cushions.
I want to feel her skin. Pushing up her dress, I grip the outsides of her
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