Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Because every time I touch her, I lose a little more of myself to the darkness inside me. I should give her up, but I can’t. The thought of another man touching her, having her, brings about a violence inside me that burns so fucking hot its ferociousness scares even me.
We are what we are, all of us. No matter how we try to hide beneath what we show the world. And maybe it’s just a matter of time until we give in to the depravity of our true selves.
I arrive home in the afternoon on the day Mercedes is having her friends over for high tea. I wasn’t planning to return to the house, but Ezra called and insisted it was time to visit with my brother, and I decided perhaps I should go. I will need to deal with him at some point, and now is as good a time as any. So I’ve come to pack. At least I can use the excuse that she’ll be busy with her friends to not see her. It’s cowardice, I know, but I can’t trust myself around her.
I enter through the back door, greet Lois briefly in the kitchen, and let her know I’ll be out of town for the next two nights.
“You should say hello to Mercedes and her friends. They’re having tea. That way, you can let her know so she’s not disappointed.”
I make a point of checking the time. “I’ll miss my flight.”
“Judge—”
“She won’t be disappointed, Lois. She’ll be happy.”
“If you say so, Judge.” She returns to the work of preparing finger sandwiches.
I don’t overthink it. Instead, I walk quickly past the room they’re in, ignoring their laughter, and head upstairs to my bedroom, where I take a small bag out of my closet and set it on the bed, which hasn’t yet been made since Mercedes is sleeping in longer these days. I begin the task of packing the things I need. I’m just zipping the duffel when I see Mercedes’s phone tossed on the bed.
I have her phone linked to mine so I can see all the text messages she sends as well as know the numbers she dials. So far, it’s only been Georgie, Solana, and Santiago, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary. I’m about to set the phone on top of the nightstand so it doesn’t get lost in the mess of blankets when my thumb brushes the screen. There is no password. That was a requirement when I gave her this. And when I touch it, it lights up, and I see a message she is in the process of writing.
I really had a lovely time dancing with you at Vivien’s party. I’d love to see you again at the next dinner. Perhaps we can talk without interruption then. There is something I’d like to discuss but
That’s where it ends. Like she was interrupted.
My blood goes cold as I re-read the message. I check the phone number. It’s saved under C. I almost roll my eyes as I compare the number to the one I have for Clifton Phillips in my own contact list.
Did she think she’d do this behind my back? Arrange some meeting? There is a dinner in two weeks at the compound that she and I will both need to attend. What the hell does she think she’s going to discuss? Their date? I know he’d asked her out, but I thought I made it perfectly clear she’d go on a date with him over my dead body.
And Clifton Phillips. Like he’s man enough to handle her.
I force a deep breath in as my own phone dings with a message from Ezra telling me the private plane will be ready to take off in one hour. I type out a response that I need to delay by a few days.
The three dots start bouncing as Ezra types out his response, telling me I shouldn’t put it off much longer, that a brother is a brother, and that Theron is sorry, but that he’ll stand by for word from me to rebook the flight. I wonder if he’s so concerned about my relationship with Theron because he is estranged from his.
I ask about the thugs and the men they lead back to in Italy, and he tells me he’s working on an agreement with them. Money talks. Always.
I thank him, then scroll to Clifton Phillips and hit the call button to invite him for dinner that same night. It takes all I have to do it. To swallow down my own resistance. And I’m not even sure why I’m doing it.
No, that’s not true. It’s to show her how poor a match he’d make.
If only my intentions were good, though. If only it was for her sake and not my own need to possess her, knowing all along I can never truly have her.