Page 16 of Pretty Little Threats

“You’d be surprised,” Analise says. “Gregory won’t even let us go dancing.”

“You know why.”

There’s a pause. Two heavy sighs. Silence. They want the normal lives of twenty-one-year-olds. They want to dance and laugh and drink. But they can’t.

“I’m sorry,” I tell them.

“It’s fine,” Analise lies. “It’s been years, though, Dare. No one would recognize us.”

We don’t know that. It would be easy to run pictures of them through facial recognition software. With some of the latest technological advancements, all it would take is one picture from some party or club to make its way onto the internet, and someone could easily hunt them down.

“I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Dare Bear,” Emmie murmurs. “Has anything exciting happened? Are you dating anyone?”

Rose’s face flashes through my mind.“Maybe you’re afraid of love.”

“No.” In a way, Rose was right. There’s no point in dating when nothing will ever come of it. I’m not so heartless I’d find a girlfriend and give my enemies a target. Even my friends, like Remy, Crue, and Mace, have to remain at a distance. Though Remy might be the only one who understands what it’s like to live a life you can’t share with anyone.

“At least you’re miserable too,” Analise mutters.

I laugh. “It won’t always be like this.”

They don’t respond. We’ve had this conversation a million times. They hate that I get to live my life in New York City, mistaking my mission for freedom. There’s no freedom in uncovering the truth.

Maybe it would have been better to sell our shares toJoseph Miller when he approached me while I awaited trial. We could have fled the country and carved out a life for ourselves together, but as soon as he got on the witness stand and pointed a finger at me, my fate was sealed.

He was lying.

The lack of proof to support what he said didn’t stop him. Joseph Miller wanted me locked away for a crime I didn’t commit.

Every instinct tells me he killed my parents. I’ve spent years trying to figure out why. The conglomerate he’s chair of already had a small stake in Vista Holdings. It doesn’t make sense that he’d come after my parents for something as simple as their start-up company. Aside from uncovering some petty white-collar crime he and his former wife engaged in, I haven’t found anything that will put him away for good.

White-collar criminals get it easy, and I want him to suffer for what he’s done.

The only real proof I have that he’s responsible are the confessions from mercenaries Gregory tortured, but what jury would believe me—the man accused of slaughtering his parents—over an upstanding businessman like Joseph?

So, while he gets to live in luxury, my life and my sisters’ lives changed forever. They’re hidden away, and I’m here, a seemingly easy target for any asshole dumb enough to go up against Frank and Remy.

Joseph wants me gone, and one day, I’ll figure out why, but until then, my sisters have to stay in Italy under Gregory’s protection.

“Can you come visit?” Emmie asks, her voice soft and already defeated.

We both know that’s not possible.

My grip on the burner phone tightens. “I’ll see yousoon,” I lie again, and they both let me, because we’re desperate for those words to be true.

Dressed in a sinfully tight dress, Rose stands at the edge of the balcony, facing me, with her hands lightly braced on the railing. She tips her chin as I step toward her. My gaze travels over her exposed neck, that delicate skin begging for marks.

Her chest rises as she inhales, the V-cut of the fabric teasing the promise of two full breasts. The slit up the leg of the gown reveals itself when she shifts positions. Those thick thighs are every man’s wet dream. All that tantalizing skin. Lightly bronzed. Soft.

Stopping in front of her, I watch with amusement as her tongue dashes out to wet her plump lips. My hand wraps around her throat, and she sucks in a quick breath.

“Dare.” Her voice is seductive, husky and rich with need.

“What did I tell you about saying my name like that?” I ask, leaning close enough our mouths brush.

“Dare,” she murmurs again, palms pressing against my pecs.

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