Prologue
Oliver
The air is cold; damn near freezing, but that’s not the only reason my body is shaking. I’d recognize Robbie’s grunt just about anywhere, and while that sound used to be a source of familiarity, dare I even say comfort, now it cuts through me like the knife I know he’s carrying.
I try my best to keep quiet, so he doesn’t know I’m awake, but it’s impossible. Combined with the arctic chill, his voice, and the darkness clouding me because I can’t see shit, I whimper involuntarily, cursing my own stupidity.
I should’ve said no.
So many times, I should have put a stop to this, all of it.
But I’d become my own Icarus, flying too close to a sun that was never mine in the first place. I fell for my own disguise, my own lies, and I believed his, too.
Sloane.
No,Mr. Pierce.
The job was simple, and I thought I knew what I was doing. After all, I had the best teacher, and I always was a good student. Robbie knew that. It’s what he was counting on.
But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. Lies became truths and truths became vicious lies, and now here I am. God knows where, with a man I thought I knew and a man I love—who will never hear me say it—with a knife pressed to my back.Mr. Piercewill never know that it wasn’t all a lie. Because I’ll be dead before that happens. I’m sure of it.
Robbie presses his knife against me as he leans in close.
“Rise and shine, Oliver,” he purrs. “It’s showtime.”
Chapter One
Oliver
“Fuck him,” Robbie bites as he takes a swig of his beer. “Fuck that motherfucker and his thieving ass to hell.”
I stare at the television inside Rum Rocks,the dive bar by his apartment that he loves to hang out at most of the time these days.
The young blonde news anchor goes on and on about Sloane’s rise to fortune and how his innovative approach to security will change the world.
But then again, I guess that’s par for the course when you’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company likeVeil Technologies.
“There he goes again,” Harrold, the surly old bartender who runs the Rocks, notes as he polishes his beer stein.
I give Harrold a knowing look as I stroke my boyfriend’s back.
“Shut the fuck up, Harry,” Robbie snaps.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you home,” I say with a sigh.
I wish I could say this was the first time he’s called me to pick his ass up, drunk and pissed off, but it’s not.
Lately, it’s happening more and more. I’m a little worried my boyfriend is on some sort of downward spiral, but I’m not sure how to stop it.
“Oliver, come on, stay a while…” Robbie says, pleading with his deep brown eyes. “It’s not like you have a job to go to.” His words aren’t meant to be harsh, but I still feel the impact. I loved my liaison job at the library. Truly, I did, but due to budget cuts and lack of funding, they had decided my job wasn’t necessary and that the clerks could do it instead. It’s not their fault, or mine, but it still sucks. I’ve put out several applications to other libraries, but every single one has been rejected. I need to find a job soon, or we’re both going to be screwed.
“Seriously, you talk about the asshole so much, it’s like you’re obsessed,” Harrold says, setting his glass down. “Am I right, Oliver?” Harry chuckles.
Before I can say anything, Robbie slams his beer down.
“He stole my fucking algorithm, you ass hat!” Robbie yells so loud a couple of the other guys at the end of the bar turn our way.
“Robbie—” I move to grab him, but he shoves me off. “Come on.”
