Page 16 of Rake

“No. Making it a job would take the joy out of it. My father wanted me to be a politician.”

“That’d be handy for him, wouldn’t it?”

“You can imagine his disappointment when I decided not to pursue that particular path.”

She eats more of the soup and then puts the spoon down, propping her chin up on her hand. “Whatdidyou want, then? Not that harassing people who intrude on your shady business dealings isn’t fulfilling and all, but it can’t be what you dreamed of doing when you were a kid.”

I top off our wine glasses.

“Not a lot of room for dreaming in my childhood,” I say, gesturing with the glass. “I just knew I didn’t want to be a politician.”

It’s a balance to give her enough to be disarmed and share her secrets, but not enough to think she knows me in any discernable way.

“Hmm.” Her cheeks are a little flushed from the wine now. It looks good on her. She hasn’t eaten much. Normally I’d be offended, but she’ll get tipsy much faster this way.

“My brother’s a senior in high school. Nine years younger. My mom wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids at all because of her condition, let alone a second one after the complications from her pregnancy with me. He’s a brilliant pain in the ass. Going to school for engineering in the fall, hopefully.”

“MIT bound?”

She stiffens for a minute. “No. Stanford or Cal Tech, we hope.”

“Far from home, but I’m guessing that’s the point?”

“My father’s a loser, Finn. Is this what you’re waiting to hear? He was a big-shot hockey player when he was young, but he blew all his money. He got injured and didn’t bother finding more work and lived off my mother and grandmother, and now that they’re both gone, he lives off me. He’s a shit-ass drunk and I’ll be damned if I let my brother end up like him. I promised my mother I’d get him out, and I never break my promises.”

The color’s rising from her collarbone to her delicate throat. I notice some bruising there.

Her eyes shine with rage. “Never, Finn. I’m not going to give up on Trinity’s staff. If we can come to an agreement that allows me to help them, I’m all for it. Otherwise, you’d better just kill me and get it over with.”

The wine’s done its job. I lean forward at her confession. “But then who will take care of your brother? Are the casino workers more important than your own flesh and blood? Surely another family trauma would keep him from getting to Stanford?”

She blinks several times, holding back tears. It’s so satisfying to watch her walk into my trap and see the self-righteous rage drain from her face. She pushes away from the table.

“I can’t do this. I’ll take my chances out there.” She steps down on her good foot and winces when she puts weight on the bad one.

I watch her with amusement for a few moments before following as she limps toward the bedroom. She’s grabbing her damp slacks from the bathroom, and I lean against the doorframe. My body fills the entire doorway.

She spins to look at me, tears streaking down her oval face. “Finn, please, just let me go.”

I shrug. “I can’t let you go, Sasha. I can deal with my father’s ire.” I’d prefer not to, though. “But I’m not so sure if you can. You’re tired. It’s been one hell of a stressful day, and you’re hurt. Why don’t you just rest here tonight, and tomorrow we can try again to find some middle ground? If you leave now, P.J. will find you and it’s over. I won’t be responsible for that.”

She’s wrestling with what she wants to do, and what she knows is the smart thing to do.

“Besides, not to read too much into what you’ve told me, but your father may be angry if you disturb him now.”

She flinches. It’s cruel, but I’m not wrong. Sasha raises her chin, trying to project a strength that’s left her.

“You’re just as bad as he is,” she squeezes out.

Does she mean her father or mine? Doesn’t matter I suppose. But before I can rebuild Sasha, I have to break her down. It’s part of the process.

“Maybe. I don’t sugarcoat situations. But you’re in a lot of trouble, and I’m someone who can help you out of it, hopefully in a mutually beneficial way.” There’s an offer in there, but one she seems to miss.

How sexually experienced is this woman? She’s in her mid-twenties, but she hasn’t had much time to be young, between taking care of her mother and her brother. Her life’s been exactly the kind of drudgery I’ve worked hard to avoid.

She’s clutching the pedestal sink for support, pain evident from the tension in her body. Her sense of duty is going to be hard to overcome.

Another reason to fuck her senseless.

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