Few people in my life see me as anything more than a bloodthirsty boss bitch.
Finding a complete stranger unafraid to go toe-to-toe with me?
A stranger who recognized me at my best?
Who’s now making something flutter in my belly at the recognition that he has a little bit of a taste for revenge too, even if he’s not saying it out loud?
This could be fun.
As long as he doesn’t fuck up my plans. It’s taken me four years of meticulous planning to get this close to taking my father down.
God help the person who gets in my way.
No matter how much he might have once liked the person I want to be.
10
SPEAK EASY AND CARRY A BAG OF CHEX MIX
Rhys
She knows.
Margot knows what I’m not asking for.
My mom would be horrified—vengeance isn’t the answer, Rhys—butfuck, it feels good to let myself daydream about a world where everything goes right enough that I manage to destroy my stepfather.
To think about the man who gave the barest shit about me unless I was useful having a taste of his own medicine, yeah.
Yeah, it feels like claiming back some of who I am.
Like defending the teenage kid who needed a parent who still loved him but got stuck with fucking Xavier Yates instead.
But it’s not an idea without cost, which is why I haven’t asked for it.
Once I go there—I can’t take it back.
Revenge is messy. It comes with unexpected consequences. And I don’t know if that’s how I want to restart my life when I take my place back in the security world.
I rise from my spot on her bed, hand on the towel where it’s tucked in on itself. “Good talk. Don’t fuck me over.”
“I rarely fuck people over unless they deserve it. Don’t blow my cover.”
“Don’t make me have to.”
She’s standing just to the side of the open bedroom door, tracking my movements as I head out of the room.
I’m nearly past her when she reaches out and touches my stomach, which promptly breaks out in goosebumps like an asshole. “Did I do that?”
I look down at the round purplish bruise and ignore the visible shivers on my skin. “Yep.”
“I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were coming.”
I lift a brow at her. “Wouldn’t you?”
She smiles, her expression a mix of mischief and kindness, and I feel like I’ve been socked in the gut all over again.
This time, though, the sensation is accompanied by a distant, hazy memory of my first high school girlfriend.
