fect on her? Because I feel the same way—I
don’t want her here. She raises her head and looks
Christian squarely in the eye.
“I’m being blackmailed.”
Holy shit. Not what I expected out of her mouth.
Christian stiffens. Has someone found out about her
Christian stiffens. Has someone found out about her
penchant for beating and fucking underage boys? I
suppress my revulsion, and a fleeting thought about
chickens coming home to roost crosses my mind. My
subconscious rubs her hands together with ill-disguised
glee. Good.
“How?” Christian asks, his horror clear in his voice.
She reaches into her oversized, patent-leather,
designer purse, pulls out a note, and hands it to him.
“Put it down, lay it out.” Christian points to the
breakfast bar counter with his chin.
“You don’t want to touch it?’
“No. Fingerprints.”
“Christian, you know I can’t go to the police with this.”
Why am I listening to this? Is she fucking some other
poor boy?
She lays the note out for him, and he bends to read it.
“They’re only asking for five thousand dollars,” he says
almost absentmindedly. “Any idea who it might be?
Someone in the community?”
“No,” she says in her soft sweet voice.
“Linc?”
Linc? Who’s that?
“What—after all this time? I don’t think so,” she
grumbles.
“Does Isaac know?”
“I ha一ven’t told him.”
Who’s Isaac?
“I think he needs to know,” Christian says. She shakes
her head, and now I feel I’m intruding. I want none of this.
her head, and now I feel I’m intruding. I want none of this.
I try to retrieve my hand from Christian’s grasp, but he just
tightens his hold and turns to gaze at me.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
His eyes search mine, looking for what? Censure?
Acceptance? Hostility? I keep my expression as bland as
possible.
“Okay,” he says. “I won’t be long.”
He releases me and I stand. Elena watches me warily.
I stay tightlipped and return her gaze, giving nothing away.
“Goodnight, Anastasia.” She gives me a small smile.
“Goodnight,” I mutter, my voice soun
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