Page 92 of Arrogant and Merciless

"Cupcakes by the hospital lake."

"What?"

"The day you went to the bookstore, you wanted a cupcake but never got the chance. I took you to dinner instead, and then . . .”

Her face flushes even more. "I remember."

"I had a picnic set up for us by the lake."

"In the middle of your workday?"

"I have nothing scheduled for today."

"You really just want to go out for a cupcake?"

"I want to be with you. And I’ll use whatever means necessary to convince you.”

* * *

We’re lying on a blanket spread over the grass, watching the birds by the lake.

She still hasn’t touched her cupcake. Instead, she rests her head on my chest while I run my fingers through her hair.

"Once, you asked me how we met."

"Yes, and you told me. No need to remind me."

"But I need to."

She lifts her head and props it up on her hands. "What more is there to say?"

"My father was always a cheater. For as long as I can remember, he betrayed my mother."

"I don’t want to talk about him."

"But we have to."

"Fine. Go on."

What I don’t tell her is that, at this very moment, a team of mercenaries is hunting him down. My father has been missing since our last phone call, but if he thinks he’ll escape justice, he’s mistaken.

The police have restrictions when searching for him—but bounty hunters don’t. Sooner or later, he will be caught.

"He cheated on my mother with girls even younger than you. One of them, inside my grandmother’s house."

"Oh, my God!"

"Yes. The day I saw you in the library’s bathroom, the exact second I laid eyes on you, I wanted you. You looked like a mirage—beautiful, naked, and with an innocent face. I’m a cynic, Taylor. I never believed in goodness. After forcing myself to think rationally, I assumed you were one of my father’s mistresses, and the thought drove me insane."

"You thought your father and I . . .”

"Yes. But it wasn’t just the anger at him for possibly once again bringing a woman to my grandmother’s house that made me lose it."

"Then what?"

"There’s no logical explanation for it," I say, for the first time breaking eye contact, staring at the cloudless sky instead.

"I can handle a lack of logic. Tell me."

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