by Scott, S. L.
He stands and walks to the window. With his hands clasped behind his back, he says, “I was drawn to your spirited side. You came to me as a spy trying to steal information for your family. Stealing from me is unforgivable, a punishable crime, even if I did fall under your spell for a time.”
Spell. The word makes me think of Bennett. I tense from the image of seeing him in my head—that smile, his engaging eyes. The way his touch makes me feel everything all at once.
“For a time?” I ask. Kurt has such a neat way of making years seem like two hours. That pretty much sums up what I should have realized long before I did. I was so desperate for validation that I turned to evil to earn a halo. Hindsight and all that . . .
Turning around, he sighs, his chest heavy under a blood red smoking jacket. “I played your games for too long—”
“Love was never a game to me. I just picked the wrong ally.”
“Ally,” he repeats, his bellowing laughter targeting my heart right after. “Your angry rebellion to prove your father wrong was cute at first, amusing even, but never attractive. Did you really think I could love you? Your family doesn’t love you, so why would I waste my time?”
Alone. Disparaged. Unappreciated.
“You wanted my name, Kurt. My connections. My inheritance—”
“I needed nothing from you. If I’d cared about any of that, I would have had you begging on your knees at the altar. Begging for my name.” There’s a growl to his tone, anger because I’ve hit a nerve.
“It doesn’t matter how much money the McCoy family has, it won’t change the trajectory of their legacy, or yours.”
He charges me, my back and head slamming against the wall and rattling the crystal sconces. After forcing a final breath from me, he drops me, leaving me to slide to the floor. He can’t kill me. Too many opportunities have passed him by. This isn’t about death. This is about revenge. This is about setting the world on fire in hopes of finding a new beginning.
The McCoy name has been destroyed, and nothing he does can change that fact—not a deal, not blackmail, not a wife. Sadly, he still believes he can, and I’ll pay the price, not with my life but with my family’s if I don’t handle him just the right way.
It churns my stomach, but I try my best to sound wistful while my back screams in pain. “You loved me. You did. It wasn’t words to you. You felt them.”
“And you were blind to the obvious.”
I was. He’s right. Under any other circumstances, I would have left the morning after we met and never looked back. It’s fun to believe the lies we tell ourselves. Protection in the form of a coat made of words that provide the warmth we need when it’s cold outside.
Using the wall as leverage, I hoist myself up, refusing to show him how weak I really am. My body becomes a traitor as one single drop of blood falls from my nose to my chest. I don’t realize it until his expression morphs, giving me a glimpse of the man who was easy to fall for when I was naïve.
“I hate when you hurt.”
“Then don’t hurt me.”
My snarky comment doesn’t faze him. He moves with less confidence and more humility when he approaches. Reaching his hand toward my face, he pauses, seeking permission. I’ll never give him that luxury again. But I’m also not in a position to argue. Stay strong. There’s more at stake here.
Holding me by the jaw, he scrapes the rough pad of his thumb across my face and under my nose. When he pulls back, blood covers it. With his eyes on mine, he licks it clean with two swipes of his tongue, a snake-like motion that warns of the evil inside.
And he’s gone again, devoured by the monster he’s become. How did I never see the sick side of this bastard before he turned on me? “You let another man touch you tonight,” he says
My breathing stops hard in my chest. Shit. Now it’s hard to breathe for another reason. I had become complacent, which must be the only reason Bennett got past my defenses. Don’t think about him. Show no weakness. “Why would you care? I’m nothing to you. Just a pawn in a twisted game.”
He angles back in fury, and I don’t see his palm approaching until my head smacks the wall and my cheekbone burns with pain. “You. Are. My. Property. That’s all you are.”
I hold back the tears desperate to fall. Show no weakness. “You don’t own me and you never will.”
“I will until the tables are turned.” And we’re back to business as if he didn’t just inflict more damage. “You haven’t asked why I’m here, Winter. How disappointing.”
“I’m not dead, so I can assume that you came back to bat me around some more, toy with your plaything while inflicting deadly wounds in the form of words.”
Sly gives him too much credit, though. Sinister. Definitely. “You shouldn’t be afraid of my words.”
He leaves the door open, so I peek inside his dark mind. “What should I be afraid of?”
“Me. Love extends beyond death.”
“Love? You’re not capable of the emotion.”
“True,” he says with a detached expression. The man is despicable. “But you believed I was at one point. So gullible, ma princesse ténébreuse.”
I tuck my hands behind my back, trying to stop them from shaking. “Why are you here?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see me. Your mission is almost complete.”
“What?” I give him too much power. He’s dangling not only my future from his hands but my hopes along with it. I reach for the unattainable. “When?”
“Let’s just be clear. This isn’t over until I say it is.” I stare at him as the freedom I crave remains firmly in his hands. His cold, angry eyes remain on me. “Winter, tell me you understand?”
“I understand,” I reply, hope all but gone again.
“Good.” He claps his hands together and then rubs them with the plan coming together for him. “You’ve done a fine job.”
“I’ve done nothing.”
His smile tilts toward genuine. “You’ve done more than you know. It’s almost time for us—”
“Us?”
“The plan is in motion, thanks to you, but it’s time to tie up loose ends.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And most of that is for the best. Trust me,” he says, nodding like a pool shark about to take my money. “One last task and then you can return to your life again. You’ll still owe me your life, but that’s not a debt I’m collecting today.”
“Then what are you collecting?”
“Everests.”
15
Winter
As dirty as Kurt likes to play, he’s struggling with the aftermath. The bruising. The bleeding. The pain he’s inflicted on me.
With a stiff upper lip, though swollen, I remain awake despite his best efforts to knock me out. Hovering over me, he presses his erection against me. He gets off on power in the cruelest ways, and I was too blind to see until it was too late.
I never hated my father. I should have, but I didn’t. That was a mistake. What I’ve endured for him is proof of that. Everything I’ve done is for his company, for him and my brother, to survive. That was the deal Kurt made with me, though being kidnapped and forced to agree put us on an uneven playing field.
A threat to my father’s life was thrown in for good measure, and Kurt laughed that I could still shed tears for the man who basically abandoned me.
I’m strong. Stronger than Kurt ever thought I could be. I die a little inside every day. One day, it won’t be my body, but my soul that slips away, and until that day, I’ll play by his rules and live this isolated life like he made me promise.
Bait. That’s what he called me, but the term never made sense.
Until tonight.
Everests. He’s after the Everest brothers, which means he’s after Bennett.
I may not know what to think about Bennett’s involvement with my father, but I still don’t want him mixed up with Kurt.
So I’ll take a hit and then another i
f it protects him. Bennett and I spent enough time together for me to see the real man. And with him, I was me again. I don’t know why he lied, but I had no problem filling in the blanks before he could tell the truth. If I had only listened to my heart and his words, things would have turned out so differently.
I know deep down he’s a good man. He’s shown me how he cares—he listens, he asks questions, and he wants to make me feel not just good but great. Not giving him a chance to speak is another regret I’ll add to my already long list.
If I had stayed, I’d be wrapped in his arms instead of bleeding on this bed in pain. I left because I felt betrayed, but the most unforgivable act of all is that I led Kurt right to him. I suck in a sob, knowing what this monster is capable of. Bennett’s life is in danger because of me.
Kurt’s hand touches my face, but I turn away, a sharp ache pulsing on my jaw. “Don’t be mad, Winter.”
Mad? I must have heard him wrong. “Should I be happy?” I still poke the bear. “Do you hit Chelsea?” I suspect he hasn’t. Her milky skin would reveal the monster he really is sooner than the yellow undertones of mine.
He punches the mattress next to my head in frustration. “Why must you bring her into our time together?” he asks.
I thought he loved me until I found out there was another woman. I read about it in a gossip column. When she became his fiancée, I became his whore. Not by choice, but his drunken violence stopped and made me hate myself as much as he did that night.
Leaning down, he smells my hair, and groans. “You’re my archangel, the one who will save me one day.”
“What about your fiancée? I think she’s more suited for the job.”
“You’re fire, and she’s ice.”
I’m dark. She’s light.
I’m pretty. She’s beautiful.
“She’s the misses, and you made me the mistress.”
“Don’t be bitter, Winter. You get parts of me she’ll never see.”
Bitter, I mentally scoff. “The abusive ones.” The evil.
Pushing off the bed, he tugs at his cuffs, but that won’t remove the wrinkles in his soul. He pulls my phone from my purse, and demands, “Give me the code.”
I struggle to sit up, the ribs on my right side hurting. Holding my hand over them to see if they’re broken, I reserve a comeback. My resistance to Kurt bothers him more anyway. “Why?”
His tone turns harsh as annoyance sets in. “Give me the code.”
“Why do you want to speak with him?”
The deadly stare of a shark has nothing on Kurt McCoy’s glare. “Code.”
My jaw aches, but I manage a solid, “Fuck you.”
The case breaks under the pressure of his crushing hand. The screen will be next, but he stops, and his eyes dart to mine. “I’m tired of playing games with you.” He stalks over with heavy footsteps that echo against the gilded walls of the room.
“I don’t think so. I think that’s why you started the game in the first place.”
“Do I need to remind you that you came to me?”
“To talk, to work something out, not to be chloroformed, kidnapped, and blackmailed.”
He shrugs dismissively and then holds the phone toward me. “It sounds so much worse when you put it like that. Now enter your code before I grow tired of you altogether.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “He’ll never meet with you.”
“He doesn’t have to.”
“What do you mean? What are you going to do to him?”
“Why do you assume the worst of me?” Really? He doesn’t understand why I would possibly think the worst of him? “As much fun as this has been, getting reacquainted, I must run. Maybe next time I can stay, and we can get reacquainted in a different way,” he says.
“Never.”
“I’m not asking, and I won’t then either.” He slips on his jacket and straightens his sleeves, making no efforts toward me. Thank God.
“What happens now?” I dare to ask.
“Your interactions and that pretty face are serving me well. Continue to do what you’ve been doing.”
I lean against the pillows, tracking him as he moves around the room. “What am I doing?”
“Enjoying Paris.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
He reaches into his pocket and drops three photos on the end of the bed. “The photos say otherwise.”
I peek to the foot of the bed, and my stomach drops to the floor. Bennett and me. “Why do you hurt me?”
“Because I like you, Winter, or I would have killed you already.”
He stares at his reflection in the mirror. Sweeping his hair back, his eyes catch mine. “How long are you going to make me stay here?” I ask. “Why are we in Paris?”
“So many questions. It won’t be much longer. And because Chel—look at me almost slipping. Let’s just say, singling one out from the herd works better. And you’ve done well, ma princesse ténébreuse.”
“What did I do?” He marches toward the door. “Tell me,” I yell.
He takes a fast step forward but then stops and takes a deep breath. Straightening his jacket, he exhales, and then says, “Don’t you ever raise your voice at me again. Do you understand?” I will not give him anything else of myself. “I’ll take your silence as agreement.” On a half-bow, he adds, “Bonsoir, Winter,” and then leaves, slamming the door.
I bolt from the bed to lock the door behind him. I can’t keep him out, but I won’t leave the door to my life wide open. My lungs fill with clear air for the first time since I walked in. I can breathe again.
The ache returns and a pulse in my face causes me to rush to the bathroom. Standing in front of the large mirror, I see the damage he’s done. It hurts worse than it looks, but maybe he meant it that way.
Blood is smeared from my nose to my ear, and the shape of his hand is still imprinted in the heat of my cheek. I pull my shirt off over my head and take inventory. The upper arm bruise will be easy to hide under my clothes, but my face is a whole other situation. My ribs. I press my hand over them gently. I’m hurt, but fortunately, I think it’s only skin deep. My heart still pumps, and for that, I’m grateful to have another day.
I splash cool water on my face and dab a rag across it until I’m clean of blood and makeup. As I dry my skin, I think about Kurt’s words—singling one from the herd. Does he mean Bennett?
Bennett. What was I thinking? I thought he was different.
As I continue to look at my face, I realize that I’m the one who put everything in motion. If I had been stronger a few years ago, I would have never walked into McCoy Properties. I would have never said yes to a date with a man I knew my father hated. I wouldn’t be here now, trapped between my regrets and my will to live.
If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t do this again. I would go back and change my fate altogether. With a second chance, I’d walk into Everest Enterprises instead.
I don’t know why Kurt is collecting Everests—and I have no clue what that means—but I pray I diverted him. He’s always been distracted by shiny objects. First me, and then Chelsea. I’m an old toy he still enjoys playing with since he apparently can’t seem to leave me alone.
My palms go flat against the cool marble of the counter, and I lower my head, mentally and physically exhausted. I spy the time and sigh, finally finding the freedom to feel relieved. When I look into the mirror again, though, I know I need to put some ice on my cheek.
Kurt is always conscious about my eyes and not messing up my face. It’s a face he likes too much to ruin, but I’m already ruined on the inside. Tonight he slipped with his hands like he did with his words. He made sure to humiliate me enough that I lost who I was when I was with him. Maybe I should be grateful for Chelsea. Without her coming into the picture, I’d still be under his thumb.
Pushing off the marble, I’m angry I could have such a thought, momentarily forgetting that I’m right back where I was, under his control. This t
ime, I’m hidden in the shadows instead of the limelight of Manhattan’s high society.
He destroyed my friendships. My girlfriends were too afraid to be around him and, in turn, me. I didn’t believe them when they told me he threatened them, not even the day they walked away, leaving me in a hell I stupidly confused for heaven.
When I left him and his company, I began to rebuild my life, starting with a new job. The anonymous letter came not even a week after I started. HR cited concerns with my ties to Kurt. It didn’t matter how I pleaded the truth; I was let go, believed to be a part of some espionage scheme.
Ironic, since that’s why I applied for a job at his company.
Kurt McCoy was on a mission to rip me away from any life that didn’t include him. Paris makes a lot more sense now. Since the minute I stepped into his office, he’s been planning this all along.
Pulling a bottle of water from the small fridge, I hold it to my cheek. The icy cold is shocking, but I force myself to keep it there until my skin numbs.
I can’t stop worrying about Bennett and what I’ve done. Even worse, what Kurt will do if he gets to him? I acted juvenile, letting my head spin instead of listening. I close my eyes and see Bennett so clearly in my head. That’s the Bennett I know because he showed me who he really is. Gray days can’t hold a candle to his sun. His six-foot-three frame has solid gold insides.
I wanted to know what redemption tasted like. He was my reward for being good all this time. And now, I’ve put him in danger like I did myself.
There’s no debate about calling him. Kurt is probably tracking him down now, so I need to tell Bennett. I take the shortcut to try to fix things, to apologize, and then make sure he’s on his way back to the States. The hotel operator answers, and I ask for Bennett’s room. “Please take my call,” I silently pray.
On the third ring, he answers, “Hello?”
“Bennett?”
“Winter?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Are you all right?” he asks with the utmost care for me. “Where are you?”