by Ashley Jade
I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. “You live here?”
The smile I give him is as arrogant as he is. “Would you like to see the paperwork?”
Cain once told me people will believe anything you feed them if you sound convincing enough. Looking back, that should have been a red flag.
He rubs the dark stubble on his chin. “Yeah, actually, I would.” My stomach knots when his gaze darkens. “Given I’m the owner.”
My smug expression falls. It’s not so much his words—although that’s enough to make me want to piss myself, it’s the absolute possession behind them. Like he’s prepared to dismember and obliterate anyone who threatens to take what belongs to him.
I clutch the granite so hard my knuckles turn white. If I thought I was nervous before, it’s nothing compared to now.
I bite my lip until I taste blood. I’m too afraid to speak for fear I’ll say something to make it worse.
If agoraphobia is a chink in the armor I pretend to have—anxiety is my Achilles’ heel. The living, breathing succubus I live with day in and day out, and no matter how strong I try to be, or how many medications I try to numb myself with—it will always be my weakness. The root of nearly every issue I grapple with daily.
Unlike my mother, who was a force to be reckoned with, a weapon in and out of the courtroom, I’m like a defective gun. Because even though I act like I can hold my own and rise to any challenge when it’s time to battle—my bullets are the equivalent of cotton candy. Sweet sugar that dissolves into nothing.
Or as Cain would say, I’m all bark and no bite.
Cain—who’s downstairs with his fiancée.
Cain—who wanted me to finish him off after her mouth was on him.
Cain—who tricked me into coming here by getting my hopes up, just so he could hurt me.
Cain—who only told me he loved me when he realized I reached my breaking point.
Because you can only be tethered to someone for so long before the cord begins to strangle you.
They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. But mine’s so thick I can taste it.
And it tastes like nicotine and sin.
It happens so fast I don’t give him time to react…or myself time to think about the repercussions.
I maneuver myself on his lap and crush my mouth against his.
If the man is surprised by my assault, he doesn’t let on. If anything, he’s complacent—almost like he was expecting it.
As if he knows I need this.
Digging my nails into his shoulder, I lick the seam of his lips, urging him to part them for me. A rough sound escapes him, and a flash of heat settles between my legs when he opens his mouth and the tip of his tongue flicks mine…before he pulls away.
No doubt wondering why the girl he found on his balcony—the one who claimed to live in his home and then threatened to call the cops on him a moment ago—kissed him.
Oh, God. He must think I’m psychotic.
Embarrassed, I wipe my mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” I start to get off him, but his hand finds the small of my back, keeping me there.
“Yes, you do.”
I shake my head, but he holds my gaze, imploring me to tell him the truth.
I did it to get back at Cain.
“I had too much to drink.”
He drags his thumb down my spine, lowering the zipper of my dress. “Eden.”
“I’m not Eden.”
The fingers skimming my vertebra spasm. “Then take off your mask.”
“No.”
“Shame you’re so stubborn.” He traces a line from my neck to the swell of my breast with his free hand. “Good girls get rewarded.”
I’d laugh if he didn’t have that scary look in his eyes that makes it clear he’ll tear someone limb from limb if they cross him.
Hell, maybe I should let him. Cain already destroyed my heart…he can finish the job.
“Good girls, huh?” I smile coyly. “You clearly don’t know a thing about me.”
Because good girls don’t get labeled the town whore.
Good girls don’t fall in love with their stepfathers and then seduce them once their mothers are out of the picture.
And good girls most definitely don’t start writhing on a stranger’s lap to avoid answering his questions.
“You’re right, I don’t.” He stares at me for a long moment, his lips curling into a sly grin. “Well, I do know some things.”
I don’t want to give in to him, but curiosity is winning the battle. “Like what?”
Face impassive, he slips a digit inside the top of my dress. “I know today is your eighteenth birthday.”
“I told you—”
“I know your mother Carol Williams died in a car accident last year.”
“Congrats, you can Google.”
His fingers drum over my skin. “I know you think her death was a blessing.”
My retort stalls in my throat. I can’t deny or defend that statement because it’s the truth.
My mother didn’t treat me like normal mothers treat their children. I was a burden, and she made sure I knew it every single day.
She hated me because I was nothing like her. I didn’t look like her. I didn’t act like her. And I certainly wasn’t smart like she was. We were night and day. Complete opposites.
Given she never talked about him, she must have hated whoever my father was with the fire of a thousand suns.
It’s what made her hate me with the fire of a thousand and one. Because no matter how much I tried to earn her love…it never came.
Especially after the scandal with my teacher, Mr. Delany.
She loathed me for embarrassing her and almost ruining her reputation and career. Whatever glimmer of hope I had of ever winning her love vanished after that.
In turn, I ended up falling in love with her husband.
Cain’s the only one who ever cared about me. The only one who didn’t treat me like a walking fuck-up.
He gets me in ways no one else ever will.
The mystery man’s stubble scrapes my collarbone as he nips the edge of my jaw. “I know she kept you away from people. Locked you up in that house like some kind of animal.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, looking up at the stars to keep my emotions at bay. “Please stop.”
But he doesn’t. “I know you’re obsessed with a man who will never love you back.” He plants a soft kiss on my throat. “So tragic.”
“Go to hell.”
He catches my wrist a second before my hand connects with his cheek. “I vacation there, little lamb.”
“Maybe you should stay there permanently next time.”
His hands find my ass and I gasp when I feel how hard he is. “Maybe you should learn to tell the truth.” His lips quirk. “But we both know you won’t…because fighting with me turns you on.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I lie.
My thighs clench as his tongue slithers along my clavicle. He’s right. Provoking him stirs something in me. Something dark and provocative.
“You’re like a goddamn bomb waiting to explode. Looking for the right reason to detonate.” I open my mouth to argue, but sparks of pleasure race over my skin when he raises his hips, creating delicious friction against my pearls. I whimper, needing more, but he laughs darkly. “You’re ruining my pants, little liar.”
The damp spot beneath me makes me blush, but my pride forces me to give him a big smile. “Consider it payback for ruining my night.” I scramble to my feet. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, asshole.”
“Shame we’re not on the couch in your living room.” His lips twist into an evil smirk. “Perhaps you would have given me the same show you gave him.”
My blood runs cold. Up until now, every word out of his mouth was a rumor.
But there are only two people who know about that night. And he’s not one of them.
“Who are you?”
His expression is downright menacing as he stands up. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
I shake my head, not understanding. “You’re not a ghost.”
Anxiety swells in my chest as he walks forward, pinning me against the railing. “You’re right. Ghosts have souls.” Panic works its way up my throat as he fastens his hands on my hips and lifts me off the ground. “I don’t.”
My stomach churns with fear. What could I have possibly done that would warrant a man I don’t know to terrorize me like this?
“What—why are you doing this?”
Silence is my only response.
I eye the balcony doors. They’re less than twenty feet away. Not far at all.
I could kick him in the balls and make a run for it.
The second I move my leg, he tsks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Help,” I scream, praying someone below can hear me. “Hel—”
Horror surges up my spine when he slams a hand over my mouth, causing half my body to slip over the railing.
One wrong move and I’ll fall. He’s got me right where he wants me.
Something he’s taking pleasure in judging by the look on his face.
God, he’s like a cat teasing a mouse. Drawing out the inevitable.
Nausea barrels into me when I make the mistake of turning my head to the side and looking down. The flowers in the garden are tiny specks and the pool is merely a puddle. There’s no way I’d survive.
He’s going to kill me on my birthday. The thought sends a ripple of anger through me. I’ve barely led what would constitute a life and he’s going to take it.
Hot tears roll down the sides of my face. Cain.
My life is flashing before my eyes and he’s all I can think about. Everything that ever mattered to me has revolved around him, and the very last memory I have of us…is him breaking my heart.
“Eden—”
“I hate you.”
My anger rises, and I claw at his face until his mask falls off. If I’m going to die unjustly, I deserve to know who’s responsible for it.
How can someone so beautiful be so vicious?
I barely have time to process the thought because I’m hoisted into his arms.
“No, you don’t.” In the blink of an eye, he dangles me face first over the iron barrier separating me from my death. “You hate him.”
Head whirling, I try to kick my legs, but it only makes my shoes slide off my feet.
“Cain.” It sounds like a plea. “Cain.”
“He can’t rescue you,” the man rasps, his hold on my legs growing slack. “He’s too busy with his fiancée.”
White hot pain slams into the center of my chest and I choke on a fresh batch of tears.
“I bet he’s pulling down her panties...burying his face between her legs.”
“Stop,” I plead because the truth hurts too much.
“Or maybe he’s got her bent over a desk and he’s fucking her brains out.”
“Why are you doing this?” I choke out as my mask slides off my face and into the darkness.
“Maybe he’s dancing with her in a room full of people, showing off his soon-to-be bride to the world. Something he’ll never do with you.”
I close my eyes as agony slashes through me, chipping away at the remainder of my heart.
He’s right. It’s a sobering realization. Like a child finding out Santa doesn’t exist or a believer finding out there is no God.
“Please.” My voice comes out frail, the last thread unraveling. “Kill me.”
Chapter 6
Damien
“Kill me,” she repeats. Her voice is weak. Desperate. Like a wounded animal suffering and begging to be put out of its misery.
Hell, maybe I should. It’s what I came here to do. What I’m supposed to do.
Lord knows a mercy killing would be less painful than the truth.
But murder’s always been Cain’s easy way out.
She squirms, attempting to wiggle out of my grip. “Please.”
My cock twitches. My fallen angel isn’t the type to give up without a fight. She can be quite feisty and stubborn when she wants something.
Unfortunately, what she really wants is something Cain will never give her.
He’s not capable of it.
Because people like me and Cain are flawed. There’s a crack in our code. A vacancy in our chest that we fill with wrath for those who have hurt us.
Just as darkness is the absence of light…we too are missing something. Something that prevents us from being righteous.
Because that’s all evil really is. It’s not the boogeyman or the monster under the bed. It’s not demons or hellfire.
Evil is merely the absence of good.
People can condemn the wicked all they want. But deep down, we’re all evil.
Some are just better at hiding it.
And others…offer deals for our services.
“I won’t kill you.” I loosen my grip. “If you agree to my proposition.”
“Not interest—” she screams, slipping from my grasp.
Leaning over the railing, I latch onto her ankle. “Care to reconsider?” My muscles contract and I wrap my other hand around her calf. “Decide quickly, little lamb. As much as I enjoy your company, I’m not sure we can hang out much longer.”
When she doesn’t respond, I try a different approach. “Statistics prove most people who commit suicide regret their decision seconds before they die.”
“I didn’t push myself over this railing, psycho. You did.”
I smile down at her through clenched teeth. “And now I’m offering to help you.”
“If you really wanted to help me, you’d let me go.”
Obstinate girl. “We both know you don’t want to die, Eden.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“You’re wrong.” Before she can protest, I haul her back over the edge. When she struggles, I slam her wrists against the railing and press my body against hers. “He’ll only keep using and hurting you until there’s nothing left. He’ll keep destroying you until his high from the pedestal you keep him on wears off and you’re completely useless to him.”
Running my nose along the side of her neck, I inhale her sweet apple scent. “But you already know that…it’s why you asked me to kill you.” My cock thickens against her pert ass. Her smell is addictive. Like virtue and sin. As if heaven and hell had one dirty, corrupt night together and she’s the tantalizing vestige. “Cain’s little lamb finally realized death is the only way out of the hell he’s keeping her in.”
She trembles, and I know my words ring true. “But it doesn’t have to be. There’s another way. One that will make him pay for all the pain he’s caused.”
Her voice is broken glass when she finally speaks. “I love him.”
Eden’s loyalty to Cain is impressive.
Unfortunately, it means she’ll have to learn the hard way.
You can’t always save a person from drowning.
Sometimes it’s best to throw them a life preserver so they can learn how to save themselves.
I trace a finger up her arm. Her skin is warm, despite the cool October air. “Will you still love him after he marries Margaret?” Not waiting for a response, I nip the delicate flesh of her shoulder. “How about after he gets her pregnant with his child?”
I don’t have to see her face to know there are tears in her eyes. But tears aren’t enough.
I need her to break.
“Will you still love him when he gets everything he ever wanted…while you’re left with nothing but a broken heart?”
When all his lies come out and his sins are revealed?
She lets out a shaky breath when I press the blade of my knife against her spine. “I don’t have all night, little lamb. Are you in or out?”
Her body tenses. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Right now, I’m your worst nig
htmare.” I slice through the fabric of her dress, revealing her pearl G-string and supple bare ass. “But I don’t have to be.” When she flinches, I flick her earlobe. “Nice pearls.”
The pulse in her neck jolts. “What exactly is it that you want from me?”
“Your cooperation.”
“And if I don’t?”
I dig the point of my knife into her back, just enough to pierce her skin. “You’ll wish you begged me harder to kill you.”
If she’s under the impression I’m going to grant her mercy, she’s dead wrong.
Despite how he uses her, there are strings connected to the black thing in Cain’s chest, and Eden’s the only one who can control them.
Which officially makes her the best weapon in my arsenal.
I need her.
“Time’s up.”
“Wait,” she shouts. “You can’t seriously expect me to go along with whatever it is you want when I don’t even know your name.”
I put my knife away. “You’re right.”
She relaxes, drawing in a deep breath. “Thank—”
My hand finds her throat. “You no longer have a choice.”
Eden belongs to me…whether she likes it or not.
Chapter 7
Eden
“I kissed you because I’m mad at Cain,” I admit, attempting to reason with him.
“What?”
“You wanted the truth, right?” I swallow thickly against his palm. “Well, the truth is—you’re right about everything. My name is Eden and I’m Cain’s stepdaughter. And as you already know, I’m in love with him.” Turning my head, I study him out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t have to tell me who you are. I figured it out. It all makes sense now.”
Not only does this man know too much about my relationship with Cain, he obviously wants to harm me.
And there's only one person I can think of who would want me gone.
Margaret.
“You know who I am?”
I nod. “Margaret is the governor’s daughter. It’s why Cain’s marrying her…and how you know so much about me.” I close my eyes as I recall the lipstick mark on Cain's collar the night we hooked up in the living room.
It was only three weeks ago. Cain had to have been seeing Margaret by then. He might have even proposed to her.