Reveal

by Bromberg, K.

  “Every woman does, right?” His head startles, and surprise fills his eyes at my baited lie. “The question is, What would she be submitting to?”

  Is this about me? About him exacting some sick revenge because I’m representing his wife? Or is this strictly about Vaughn? About what she has on him? Or is it something else entirely?

  And of course the something else I fear he wants has me rising from my barstool so I can pour myself another glass. I’m definitely going to need some more alcohol to calm my temper down.

  “She has things of mine she needs to give back.” His smile is strained, his eyes unforgiving.

  “Like what?”

  He shrugs. “Let’s hope she returns them, or else I’ll have to air all her dirty little secrets . . . and there are so many, Ryker, a judge would have a fucking field day. I’m thinking the ladies in lockup would love to sample her sweet pussy.” He nudges me. “It is sweet, isn’t it, Lockhart?”

  “Carter.” It’s a warning. A caution that my restraint is being tested. A slip in showing him I care for her.

  Fuck. Saying that is like throwing chum in the water to a shark.

  “What’s wrong? You getting feelings for the hired help?” He shakes his head in disgust. “It’s wrong of you to let your guard down.” He steps in closer to me. “Use the sex. Get the fear. Gain the power. Understood?”

  “Mmm.” Fuck if I’m walking into a trap willingly.

  “So this is the part where you tell me if you’re with me or against me.”

  His words make no sense to me. I’m representing his wife, and yet he’s talking to me about wanting to screw another woman.

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, she obviously has things we both want. It would be best if we worked together to get them.” He angles his head to the side and stares. “So are you just fucking her, or are you out to make an honest woman of her? One makes you a man; the other makes you a pussy.”

  “Fuck off.” I laugh the words out as my head swims trying to figure out why his words make my stomach churn.

  “So I can’t trust you, then?” His eyes narrow, his cigar smoke a hazy swirl in front of his face.

  They say fight fire with fire. For some reason with the senator I doubt that will play in my favor. I’ll fight his fire with gasoline. Add some accelerant, light the match, and see just how big it will explode before it snuffs itself out.

  “Think what you will,” I say with a nonchalant shrug that could play either way for me before tilting my drink up. The burn of the alcohol doesn’t do shit to abate how much I hate this man. I nod and decide to wing it. It’s the only chance I have of figuring out what exactly it is he has on her. “I only have Vaughn around because of the sex. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “Well, you’ve gone to the right place if it’s sex. Lucky bastard,” Carter says and pulls my attention to his smug smile and bullshit bravado. “Vaughn’s a madam and a whore all tied into one neat little bow you get to open up one thigh at a time.”

  Rage simmers. My fists clench. All I can think about is bashing in that perfectly straight nose of his.

  But the challenge in his eyes tells me that’s what he wants. The man wants a fight, while I want to nail him to a goddamn wall. First with my fist to his face for being a prick and second in the courtroom if I can get proof that he’s willing to cheat—with an escort, no less. The senator who pays for sex. Getting him to admit it outright on my cell phone’s recorder will benefit my case, but hell if this isn’t fucked up. Throw Vaughn to the wolves—figuratively—to gain an advantage. The only redeeming prospect in this whole conversation is that hopefully he’ll spill what he has on her.

  He quirks an eyebrow, and a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he weighs the situation.

  I do too.

  Time to play.

  “You can have her if you want her, Preston. Fuck, I’ll even pay for your time with her.”

  Come on, fucker. Take the bait.

  I should choke on the lie, but I don’t. It comes out smooth and seamless, and for a brief second I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Vaughn’s perfume still lingers on my skin, and yet I have no qualms about saying shit like that?

  Maybe I’m not cut out for this kind of thing. A relationship. Love.

  Fuck.

  As I struggle with my own desires, I watch the emotions play over his face. Caution. Curiosity. Bravado. They range from wondering whether I’m playing him to being so damn arrogant he actually thinks he has me under his thumb.

  “You’d pay for me, Lockhart? Why the generosity all of a sudden?”

  “Senator, even I know when it’s time to share the wealth. Besides, aren’t you the one who has the most to gain here?”

  “You let me down, and then you try to soothe me with pussy.” Carter’s chuckle rumbles through the air. “A man after my own heart.”

  Stroke a man’s ego, offer him easy sex, and he’ll believe any fucking thing you say. It’s a sad fact that we’re such simple creatures.

  “I wasn’t aware you had one,” I say, selling the lie by clinking the edge of my glass against his in a toast.

  His smile widens. “What I don’t get is how’d you manage to corral her? She needs a real man to put her in her place. Show her who’s boss . . . no offense.”

  “None taken.” I speak the words, but every part of me hates myself right now.

  Oh shit.

  Am I really having this conversation?

  Did I really just offer Vaughn to this fucker?

  What did I do?

  What the fuck am I actually doing?

  But when I look up at Carter and see the smug smile on his lips and his posture relaxed, I think he’ll actually fall for it. More ammo for me with Bianca . . . and maybe if I play it right, I can find out what the fuck it is he has on Vaughn.

  “What’d you do? Fool her into believing that she means more to you than a good lay?”

  I think of last night on the kitchen counter—cookie dough and Vaughn—and earlier in the bedroom—pure need and greed—and I hate myself even more for feeding him this bullshit.

  I don’t trust my own words not to betray me right now, so I just shrug and give an unapologetic smile.

  “You’re a cruel and brilliant fucking bastard.”

  “So they say.”

  He waves his cigar at me. “You better not be playing me, Lockhart.”

  “Playing you?” Sell the lie, Lockhart. “Not you, Preston. You’d see right through it. Everybody else, though? Definitely.”

  Your justification is bullshit.

  “It looks like you might need the shit I dug up on her for yourself. You’ve played her well enough that I think she’s seeing forevers when all you’re seeing is what you want between her thighs. She’s going to be pissed when you stop calling.”

  “True. I could definitely use the dirt you have on her. Two people knowing something is always better than just one. That way we’d both be protected.” I sit back down and force a laugh to play it all up when I’d rather down another goddamn drink in misery. “Since we’re looking out for each other and all.”

  “And that’s why you’re offering her to me?”

  “Like I said, it’s the least I can do, given the circumstances.”

  “Pass the pussy, please.” The senator laughs, and I join in as my stomach churns at the thought of his fucking hands on her. At knowing everything she’s been through at the whim of her uncle and how men like them think it’s their right to take regardless of consent. “How do you know she’ll go along with it?”

  “Tell me the time and place, and I’ll have her ready and willing for you,” I offer, ignoring the senator’s question and making his eyes light up. Now it’s time to tell him I want the info on Vaughn beforehand. Tit for fucking tat. “But first you’ll need to give me—”

  “Just make sure she’s defiant. I love it when they fight.”

  “Not going to happen.” I hear Vaughn’s voice bef
ore I see her, and every single part of me dies a miserable and painful death at the sound.

  NO!

  How much did she hear?

  This is bad.

  Fuck.

  So goddamn bad.

  Fuck.

  She has to know that I’m lying.

  Fuck!

  Beside me, Carter turns to face her. He more than likes what he sees—his dick already dipping into her before he’s even touched her—and I force my hands to release the fists they’ve curled into.

  “I fucking want her,” Preston murmurs beneath his breath so only I can hear it, his fingers fidgeting as if they’re itching to touch her.

  What the hell am I going to do now? I take a beat as my mind spins and my thoughts tumble out of control.

  I fucked up big time. Played the game, and now I’m so fucking far into it, I can’t back out. There’s nothing I can do but make sure Carter thinks it’s true. All of it. That I’d offer her up to him. That I buy his bullshit sex, power, and fear theory. That I need to know what he has on her to save us both from her later.

  Sell the goddamn lie, Lockhart.

  But at what cost?

  I take a sip of my drink and set it down with a clink on the bar top before swiveling on my barstool to face her.

  And I know the cost. It’s all right there in front of me, and it takes every goddamn thing I have to meet her eyes.

  But so is protecting her. So is making sure Carter can never hurt her.

  Sell the lie.

  Make Carter believe you. Make him think he holds the power. Make him believe you’re going to help him get back what’s his.

  But fuck if it’s not going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, as she stands there with hurt, shame, defeat, and defiance written all over every part of her.

  Asking forgiveness is my only option now since it’s way too fucking late to ask her for her permission to do this.

  At least that’s what I’ll tell myself to get through this. To ignore the tears welling in those aqua eyes and the trembling of her bottom lip.

  Sell the fucking lie.

  “Vaughn.” Look at me, Vaughn. Look at me and see the truth. That I’m playing him. That I’m . . . fuck, just look at me. “Perfect timing. Were your ears burning, babe?”

  “Make it happen.” Another murmur by Preston. I stare at Vaughn but nod ever so slightly to let him know I will.

  “Babe?” she says, her voice colder than the goddamn polar ice cap. “Babe?”

  “Yeah.” The word feels like acid on my tongue.

  “I’m not yours to share.”

  “You took the money, so technically, you’re mine to do with as I please,” I say, more than aware that Carter’s paying attention to my every word while each one she hears sounds like a bullet hitting her. Goddammit, Vaughn. Look at me. See me. I would never . . . but there’s a little quiver of her bottom lip that all but makes me want to throw in the towel on this charade. But he has something on her.

  Think, Lockhart.

  Bring her back.

  Let her know.

  “It’s not like you’d say no to me,” I say, waiting for her to hear the words, for her to remember our battle of wills when we first started this thing between us, for her to see that I’m trying to tell her this is not what it seems. All the while letting Carter think I’m pulling his put-a-woman-in-her-place bullshit.

  “I don’t—I can’t—how . . .” She fumbles over her words, much like her expression morphs from one emotion to the next.

  “Did you really think I had changed this much for you?” I ask as Carter chuckles with a college-frat-boy arrogance that says he’s enjoying this. And fuck if I don’t die inside a little when the first tear slips down her cheek. I scramble to figure out how to bring her back to the us she knows. To realize the me she knows would never do this. “Did you really think I want something permanent? Something that can be defined? That you were the exception?”

  There’s a glimmer of lucidity in her eyes. For the briefest of seconds, I think she hears me. I think she sees through this bullshit situation and takes it for what it’s worth . . . but then she says my name.

  “Ryker?” It’s a goddamn plea full of hurt and confusion and you’re such a fucking asshole.

  What makes it almost worse is the senator at my side, groaning like my hurting her is making him fucking hard. I force a swallow down my dry throat and know there’s no turning back now. I’ll sell the damn lie, and then I’ll do everything in my power to bury the motherfucker.

  “You did, didn’t you?” I say and nudge Carter. But this time she doesn’t respond. She just stares at me with doe eyes and parted lips as her spine straightens some. “Vaughn?”

  “No!” She yells the lone word, but there is so much sewn into her tone that I know she believes all this.

  I sold the lie so damn well I hurt the one person I care about the most.

  Our eyes lock, and the devastation in hers all but kills me. When she runs out of the pool house, it takes everything I have not to chase after her and explain.

  I stand from my stool, my moral compass way off the charts as I realize what I just did to her.

  To us.

  “I was right.” Carter’s low rumble of a chuckle fills the room. “The poor thing really thought you loved her,” he mocks.

  “Mmm.”

  “C’mon, Lockhart. You’ve already got the sex and now the power. It’s my turn, and fucking hell, I’ll create the fear you’re too soft to add.”

  If I clench my glass any tighter, it might break. My cigar is still lit but sits untouched on the edge of the ashtray, its smell suddenly making me want to throw up.

  Sell the lie.

  “I think I’m going to need that dirt you dug up on her about now. By the way she just bolted out of here, I wouldn’t be surprised if she takes out a full-page ad in the New York Times telling everyone I pay for sex.”

  His laugh is longer than it should be, and his sudden lack of a response unnerves me.

  “That would damage her ability to make money. She’s smarter than that.”

  “If she’s so smart, then what makes you think she’ll fall for your fear tactics?”

  Carter’s expression turns to stone as he takes a step toward me. “She’ll fall for it all right,” he murmurs with an intensity that bugs the fuck out of me. “I won’t give up until I get everything I want from her. The dirt she has on me and her fucking pussy as an interest payment for how long I have to wait to get it.” He leans in closer, making me more than uncomfortable. “I don’t like being played, Lockhart. By anyone.” He lifts his eyebrows as if to ask me if I understand his unspoken threat. A moment passes, and then his laugh rings out like the true sociopath he’s proving himself to be.

  “What?” I ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor and desperate to chase after Vaughn, apologize to her, and then make it up to her every possible way I can.

  “You’re so cute how you’re worried she’s gone for good.” He pats me on the shoulder. “Get over it. Man the fuck up. She’s the hired help. She’ll come back as soon as you snap your fingers. A girl’s gotta make a living, after all.”

  My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth, and I roll my shoulders. “Good to know,” I murmur as my eyes drift to the party outside, and I wonder where the fuck she is right now.

  “Besides, she needs to come back because there’s nothing I love more than sexually harassing the help.” He downs the rest of his drink in one swallow. “It’s one hell of a party you’ve got going on here.”

  “You should go enjoy it.” Get the fuck out.

  “I will.” He grins and strolls to the doorway before turning back to face me. “All’s fair in paid sex, Lockhart.” He shrugs. “Oh, and if you bring up this conversation or my recreational engagement with escorts against me in your settlement requests for Bianca, I’ll use Roxanne and every other fucking made-up thing I can against you. While ethics aren’t valuable in politics these days, they
’re still in high demand in the legal world.”

  Without another word, he turns back around and heads toward the party.

  I stare at the empty doorway for a few moments as I fight the urge to run to find Vaughn. That might be a little noticeable, and I’m more than certain Carter is out there watching to see if I do just that.

  Jesus Christ, I’m sorry, Vaughn. So fucking sorry.

  And then it hits me.

  I was so caught up in selling the lie that Carter never told me what it is he has on Vaughn.

  Fucking hell.

  Please tell me this wasn’t all for nothing.

  Please tell me I didn’t just mess up the best thing I have going for me.

  Fuck you, Lockhart.

  Fuck. You.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Vaughn

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  I pull Lucy tightly against me and breathe her in, but all I can think about is earlier today.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Tangled plays on the television, and Rapunzel and Finn own her attention, but mine? Mine is on her.

  It’s the only place it can be as every emotion ebbs and flows through me.

  Drowning me.

  Consuming me.

  Happily ever afters exist only in the fictional world.

  Never in mine.

  All I can hear is Ryker’s incessant banging on the door at two in the morning. His pleas for me to open up so he can explain. Turning up the music in my earbuds to block him out. Lying in my bed with my pillow over my face, my tears staining the fabric, until he came to the conclusion I wasn’t home and finally left about two hours later.

  Lucy’s giggles pull me back to the present as she looks up at me, her smile wide, her eyes alive, yet I feel broken. That was all I’d ever needed before—her—to fix a bad anything. And now it’s like her smile is a bandage on a gash that needs stitches.

  Ryker made me feel when I’d never felt before. He made me want to feel. He made me want to want.

  I should have known better.

  Last night plays through my mind like snapshots of time.