What if I had been pregnant? Would the contraceptive have hurt the baby?
How could Jethro do something so terrible?
I hate it here.
I positivelyhateit here.
I’dalwayshated it here.
How could I return with such stupid plans? How did I think I could save Jethro and kill Cut? What an idiot!
Jethro doesn’t even want saving.
Not after what they’d done to him.
“Ms. Weaver? Are you quite well?”
I shook my head, sniffing back unshed tears and doing my best to focus.
Gay Reporter’s assistant smiled, her purple fluffy pen tapping her chin in concern. “Can we get you a glass of water or something?”
“She’s fine,” Jethro murmured in his signature soft voice. I’d forgotten how smooth and precise he was. Forgotten how rigid he held himself, how restrained and contained and arctically frigid.
I shot him a look full of venom. “Actually, I would love a glass of water.”
Jethro pursed his lips as the blonde-haired woman who looked like a delicious cupcake in her pale pink dress and curves sprang from her chair.
She giggled. “I can’t believe I get to play hostess in this place.” Moving to the sideboard where an array of drinks and hors d'oeuvres had been set byinvisible staff, she poured me a glass and came back. “Truly, it’s an incredible home you have here, Mr. Hawk.”
I smiled in thanks, taking the offered water.
Jethro shifted on the settee beside me, his temper gathering a tempest. “I’m so glad you like it.” Clasping his hands, he glowered at the reporter. “Are we quite ready to begin? I have a few other appointments that demand my attention.”
Gay Reporter nodded, sitting higher on the mirroring settee opposite us. “Yes, of course.” Revealing tic-tac perfect teeth, he began his well-rehearsed speech. “First, we want to say what an honour it is to be chosen for the exclusive interview. I have no doubt that our readers atVanity Fairwill highly enjoy such an intriguing piece. My name is George, and this is Sylvie.”
His eyes bounced between Jethro and me. “I predict the interview will go on for about thirty minutes, followed by a short tour of the grounds and anything else you wish to share with us for the article. Does that sound satisfactory?”
Sylvie scooped out a voice recorder, iPhone, and notepad and arranged her arsenal on the coffee table.
“Fine,” Jethro murmured, playing with a diamond cufflink. He looked resplendent in a grey cashmere suit and open-necked white shirt. His salt and pepper hair caught the light with distinguished old-world wealth and his shiny Gucci shoes were pristine.
The sun streamed in through the windows, stencilling the carpet with happiness I didn’t feel.
I was cold. Aching. Confused.
Once again, my fingers returned to the bruise on my arm. I flinched, remembering the pain of the needle piercing my flesh. The skin still stung from the contraceptive as if he’d only just done it—not a few hours ago.
How could hedothat?
How could he obey Cut and dismiss me from his heart?
He’d shattered my dreams so damn quickly.
Why oh why did I come back here?
You know why.
To save Jethro, kill the Hawk bastards, and end this.
