word?”
“Ubiquitous,” she whispered.
I burst out laughing. “With secrets like those, you definitely need a blood covenant.”
“Now that I’ve told you my darkest secret, you have to tell me one. An eye for an eye.”
“Eye for an eye?” I mocked, purposely changing the direction of the conversation. Unlike Langley, I had too many dark secrets.
“As long as we’re on the theme of blood covenants, I thought I’d throw in some more biblical references.” She shrugged. “Now stop procrastinating and share something.”
“Something?”
She rolled her eyes. “Anything.”
“Fine.” I tapped my fingers on the table as I considered my options. Notably, my thoughts kept circling back to the one secret I couldn’t share. Was that an indication of a guilty conscience? Because as I stared into her glowing green eyes and soaked in her supple smile, I felt a twinge of discomfort ripple down my spine.
When I decided to pull Langley into my plans, she was just a name on a piece of paper. With each passing second I spent with her, she showed me she was so much more. She was quickly getting under my skin, which wasn’t a good thing. I needed to figure out a way for her to trust me while keeping her at an arm’s length.
“Knox and I used to pocket money from the fountain at the mall,” I finally revealed.
“Hey.” She smacked my hand lightly. “You stole people’s dreams for the future.”
My gut twisted. Things hadn’t changed much.
“We didn’t have a choice. We needed to eat.” I chuckled, angling to lighten the moment.
Sadness flashed across her face, further entrenching the remorse and guilt simmering inside of me. “Then, you’re forgiven.”
I smiled faintly. If only she’d offer those same words when I finished destroying Senator Wharton.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Langley
“Just one more set of ten. You’re almost done.” I loved helping my patients get their life back, and Mr. Wright wasn’t an exception. Three months ago, he fell off a ladder cleaning the leaves out of his gutters. Two bulging discs that pressed on his root nerve made him a candidate for surgery, or at the very least, shots. He decided to try physical therapy first. Now, he was back at work and almost as good as new. He probably had one or two weeks left before I would release him from my care.
“You’re a slave driver,” Mr. Wright said as he started another set of sit-ups on the silver exercise ball.
“You need to improve your core strength to support your lower back,” I said, adjusting the angle of his head to minimize any neck strain.
I counted down his final reps. “Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and you’re done.”
“Thank God,” Mr. Wright said, rolling off the ball onto his back before standing up. “How much longer until I’m done with rehab?”
I shook my finger at him. “One week. Maybe two, but that doesn’t mean you can stop doing your exercises, or you’ll end up back here or in surgery.”
He groaned as he lifted his gym bag. “I know. I’ll see you on Friday.”
I barely had time to finish my paperwork before Winnie peeked inside the front door of my office. “Hey,” she said, lifting her hand in greeting. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“Yes, but I only have forty-five minutes before my next appointment, so it has to be quick.”
Winnie held up a white paper bag. “I figured as much. You’re always overscheduled, but never fear, I brought take out.”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re amazing?”
“No, but don’t let that stop you from singing my praises now.” Winnie dropped the bag of food on the desk and plopped down on the small black side chair. My office wasn’t impressive. It barely qualified as an office. It was more of a glorified cubicle with a door.
“So what’s for lunch?” I unrolled the top of the bag and peeked inside.
“Kale salads and cold-pressed juice, but there’s a surprise at the bottom, so wipe that
“Ubiquitous,” she whispered.
I burst out laughing. “With secrets like those, you definitely need a blood covenant.”
“Now that I’ve told you my darkest secret, you have to tell me one. An eye for an eye.”
“Eye for an eye?” I mocked, purposely changing the direction of the conversation. Unlike Langley, I had too many dark secrets.
“As long as we’re on the theme of blood covenants, I thought I’d throw in some more biblical references.” She shrugged. “Now stop procrastinating and share something.”
“Something?”
She rolled her eyes. “Anything.”
“Fine.” I tapped my fingers on the table as I considered my options. Notably, my thoughts kept circling back to the one secret I couldn’t share. Was that an indication of a guilty conscience? Because as I stared into her glowing green eyes and soaked in her supple smile, I felt a twinge of discomfort ripple down my spine.
When I decided to pull Langley into my plans, she was just a name on a piece of paper. With each passing second I spent with her, she showed me she was so much more. She was quickly getting under my skin, which wasn’t a good thing. I needed to figure out a way for her to trust me while keeping her at an arm’s length.
“Knox and I used to pocket money from the fountain at the mall,” I finally revealed.
“Hey.” She smacked my hand lightly. “You stole people’s dreams for the future.”
My gut twisted. Things hadn’t changed much.
“We didn’t have a choice. We needed to eat.” I chuckled, angling to lighten the moment.
Sadness flashed across her face, further entrenching the remorse and guilt simmering inside of me. “Then, you’re forgiven.”
I smiled faintly. If only she’d offer those same words when I finished destroying Senator Wharton.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Langley
“Just one more set of ten. You’re almost done.” I loved helping my patients get their life back, and Mr. Wright wasn’t an exception. Three months ago, he fell off a ladder cleaning the leaves out of his gutters. Two bulging discs that pressed on his root nerve made him a candidate for surgery, or at the very least, shots. He decided to try physical therapy first. Now, he was back at work and almost as good as new. He probably had one or two weeks left before I would release him from my care.
“You’re a slave driver,” Mr. Wright said as he started another set of sit-ups on the silver exercise ball.
“You need to improve your core strength to support your lower back,” I said, adjusting the angle of his head to minimize any neck strain.
I counted down his final reps. “Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and you’re done.”
“Thank God,” Mr. Wright said, rolling off the ball onto his back before standing up. “How much longer until I’m done with rehab?”
I shook my finger at him. “One week. Maybe two, but that doesn’t mean you can stop doing your exercises, or you’ll end up back here or in surgery.”
He groaned as he lifted his gym bag. “I know. I’ll see you on Friday.”
I barely had time to finish my paperwork before Winnie peeked inside the front door of my office. “Hey,” she said, lifting her hand in greeting. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“Yes, but I only have forty-five minutes before my next appointment, so it has to be quick.”
Winnie held up a white paper bag. “I figured as much. You’re always overscheduled, but never fear, I brought take out.”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re amazing?”
“No, but don’t let that stop you from singing my praises now.” Winnie dropped the bag of food on the desk and plopped down on the small black side chair. My office wasn’t impressive. It barely qualified as an office. It was more of a glorified cubicle with a door.
“So what’s for lunch?” I unrolled the top of the bag and peeked inside.
“Kale salads and cold-pressed juice, but there’s a surprise at the bottom, so wipe that
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