Page 5 of Sinful Chains

I nodded slowly in the dim light. Storm picked the perfect place. Entra is tucked into a quiet part of the city, the kind of spot where people weren’t likely to recognize a professor and an administrator dining together.

Not that anything iswrongwith that.

It was just…this was all brand new. Three men. One me. Sex. Debauchery. Scandal.

Could people tell when they looked at me?

Storm leaned back, sipping his bourbon, watching me over the rim of his glass. “You’re quiet.”

I twirled my wine glass between my fingers, watching the golden liquid spiral in silken ribbons. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous habit.”

I smiled, chuckling at that. “About Revere.”

His face fell, the amusement in his eyes slowly dimming. “What about him?”

I took a deep inhale, blowing it out slowly as my eyes dropped to the table. “I’mstruggling, Storm. Not just with losing him, but with…everything. His life. What he did. Whatyoudo.”

He set his glass down, studying my face. “What do you want me to say? You want me to explain it? Because I don’t know if I can do that for you.”

“Why not?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, shaking his head as his eyes dropped to the table.

I leaned in. “I wanna know why you do it.”

He rubbed his goatee, finally bringing his eyes back to mine. “I don’t have an answer that would satisfy you, San.”

That was fair.

How do you explain to someone else why you kill people? That there’s an aspect of it that you might even…enjoy?

It wasn’t proper dinner conversation.

Still, I said, “Try me.”

He pressed his lips together, a shadow flickering across his face. “Am I the only one you asked?”

I shook my head. "I know why Cruz does it."

"Then why areyou askingme?"

I shrugged. “You’re like me. You're cerebral. You think about things. You’re in your head. I guess I assumed you had your own reasons that aren't related to Cruz or Titan. I thought you'd be the one to break it all down for me. Was I wrong to think that?"

He looked up suddenly, throwing his hand up to signal the waiter. Lacy shuffled back to our table, eager to smile at him again.

“Another one,” he said, pointing at his empty glass. “You want more, San?”

I stared at my glass and shook my head. I was only halfway into my chardonnay.

After Lacy left, he cleared his throat, pulling out his phone for the first time since we got here.

Rude ass.

“So that’s a no on us talking about it,” I said.

He nodded. “Not a conversation for tonight.”

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