Page 126 of Grace

I kneel in front of him. I’ve never tasted him. He moans, tangles his fingers in my hair, then strokes my face gently.

“Grace,” he whispers in a deep, throaty voice. “You don’t have to do it.”

“But I want to do it,” I reply and look up to him. Then I take his throbbing manhood in my mouth.

Shame is eating me up tonight.

Tonight, we “make peace”, gently.

After lovemaking, I lie in his arms, crying. He is stroking my hair and back.

I don’t feel empty. I don’t feel like it meant nothing. Being with him touched something deep inside me.

Chase Baker can still manipulate me.

That’s why I hate him.

Chapter 14

Grace

I wake up to a nightmare.

I’m staring straight into the eyes of my sister’s killer.

Lucas Baker.

I’m too afraid to blink or move. I breathe slowly. Fear burrows into my bones as my heart hammers against my ribs, and my whole body tenses with rage. I’m trembling. When I look into his eyes, I remember the day he had Jamie killed—my scream, his icy smile, all superiority and polished arrogance. The pain and grief that seized me, the desperation right behind it. I remember dragging my dead brother behind the house and… not asking for help.

Lucas isn’t smiling now. He’s serious, measured. I’m afraid of him, but I don’t look away. In his flat, cold eyes, I see Chase.

They don’t look much alike, except for their eyes—whirlpools of endless darkness, the kind that scare people to death. They’re both silent monsters who play with people’s minds: threatening, manipulating.

Lucas’s skin is darker. He’s wearing an expensive suit and watch. I can barely see him breathe. It’s like a predator is watching me. My eyes fill with tears, my lungs with an icy ache, my stomach clenching with fear. I dig my nails into the worn, filthy couch. I never would’ve thought I’d wake up here again—here, where I was a prisoner for five years.

I sit up slowly and take a quick, thorough look around. I search for something I could use as a weapon if he came at me. But the living room is as bare as it was years ago—nothing’s changed. I doubt I could take him on. The odds are stacked in his favor—still, I can’t just accept death with open arms. Although… he could’ve killed me already if he wanted to, right?

Lucas stands and towers over me. I press my trembling lips together. A tear slides down my cheek. He’s handsome in a dark, terrifying way—taller than Chase. His legs are longer, more muscular. He is well-muscled, but looks different from Cyrus—his proportions are more balanced. His soul, though… a deadly coldness radiates from him, his presence coiling around my throat like a snake.

I stare straight ahead as he walks past me. His trousers rustle, and pebbles crunch under his expensive shoes.

I draw a deep breath and stumble to my feet, then cross the short distance between us on shaking legs. I wipe away my tears with a quick swipe. I must be strong, no matter what happens to me.

Will he hurt me, or kill me because I know too much?

The plain lightbulb hanging from the ceiling fills the room with warm light, making him a little less terrifying. But he still doesn’t look like pleasant company.

“You want some?” His voice is deep, strong, commanding.

I shake my head slightly.

He pours himself a glass of amber-colored, bitter-smelling liquor, then takes a sip. Every movement is planned, measured.

He sets the glass on the table and turns it slightly. A drop runs down the side. He wipes it away with his thumb.

I grip the old wooden table with trembling hands. The stale, icy air in the unheated flat turns my stomach. It’s much colder than when we used to live here. And the furniture is in far worse shape.

“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I’ve always had a taste for it, I’m afraid. I’m the one who brought you here. I wanted to speak with you without interruption. To introduce myself properly, now that you’ve officially become a member of our family. I didn’t want my brother to take the blame—his only real sin was falling in love with you. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s innocent. He’s a criminal. But when he told me he’d kidnapped you, I was proud of him, deep down. So…”