She wastes no time selecting a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, grabbing a lingerie set almost as an afterthought.To my disappointment, she disappears in the bathroom to change.
I make use of the moment of privacy to receive my morning report from my AI assistant.Stock prices, corporate negotiations, and, more importantly, the results of the forensic testing Hamish ran on the letters sent to Inara.So far, there’s no DNA or fingerprint evidence linking the Bondage Killer to the letters, but if there is, we’ll find it.
By the time Inara emerges, I’ve dressed for the day.She’s sleekly groomed and gorgeous in the casual clothes she favors for work.Her expression is closed off, a little wary.Her hand is at her throat, playing with the silver collar I placed around her neck.
She must have a lot on her mind, but she’s acting strange around me.Almost...shy.
I want her to be comfortable, but I savor her uncertainty.It says something about the monster I am that I enjoy having her off balance.
Even her trepidation is delicious.
“Are you sore?”I ask.
“Not really.”She’s still guarded.“Rex, we need to talk.”
“Of course.”I hold out my hand.“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Breakfast.”
She glances at the window.“It’s late.”
“Brunch then.”She’s acting like she has somewhere to be.I need to have patience.Yesterday, she insisted on going to work.Now that a killer is stalking her, things have changed, and she’s probably adjusting.
I can take her mind off of everything for a little while.
“Let me show you what Roy Manor has to offer.”I’ve already ordered a full brunch spread, but I take the long way to the breakfast room, guiding her through two ballrooms and a gallery or two.She lets me lead, holding my hand and taking everything in with wide eyes and a solemn expression.
Only once does she tug my hand for me to stop.She stalls in front of a portrait of my family.Me, as a boy with my parents.Back when they were still alive.
She studies it but says nothing.I brace myself for the sight of my dead parents and force myself to look up at the painting as if it’s a bland landscape that means nothing to me.
The faces look the same, and I wonder how many of my memories have shifted to match this painting versus the reality of how they actually looked.Have I forgotten them?
But no, when I remember them, I hear their soft voices, the sound of their laughter.There was so much love saturating each moment we spent together.It doesn’t matter what they looked like.All that matters is the love.
That’s what I lost.
And now I stand before them with the woman I’ve chosen.I know what they’d think of her.But what would they think of me?I’ve become someone they wouldn’t recognize.Certainly not the sort of man they raised me to be.My father was a doctor, my mother a philanthropist, both focused on saving lives, not destroying them.They wouldn’t approve of my intense focus on keeping the city safe at all costs.They wouldn’t condone the lines I’ve crossed.The lives I’ve taken.They might mourn the man I’ve become.
But they would approve of Inara.
“I was seven when this was painted,” I tell her because I need to break the silence between us.I need her to know me in a way I haven’t allowed anyone else to know me since my parents died.“They hired the same master who did their wedding portrait.Family tradition.”
She looks down the long hall full of oil portraits on the wood-paneled walls.Generations of Roys stretching back to before my ancestors came to New Rome.“Ah.”
“After my parents died, I avoided this hall for years.Something about the way they’re smiling.They look like they’re looking forward to something.”I swallow, and it feels like razors are lining my throat.
She steps closer to me, and that makes the pain of talking about my parents worth it.“Like what?”
“Nothing.Everything.Life, I guess.”I stare at the gilt frame, unable to look even the decades-old visage of my father or mother in the eye.They had so much life to look forward to.
She leans in, pressing against my arm.She might be moving closer to see better, not to comfort me, but I feel comforted all the same.“You’re not smiling.”She points out the blank expression on young Rex Roy’s face.
“No.I wasn’t.”
Looking at the portrait has lost its appeal, so I look at her instead.Her profile is lovely.Enchanting, even though she’s withdrawn from me this morning.She’s possibly more enticing because of that.I always did love the chase.
