Page 72 of Reckless Kiss

Chapter 23

Esme

Revenge.

That’s all it is. Plain and simple revenge.

I may look like a sweet, quiet, young academic. People may prefer casting me in the role of innocent, but they’d be wrong. At my core I’m the exact opposite. My true nature is one of deviant. Rebel. Manipulator.

It took me approximately two seconds to decide I was in love with Leo. It was the night I ran into him at the party my father threw at the stadium. The night I pretended I didn’t know him. Most men were assholes so behaving as bizarrely as I was that night would have typically sent them packing. Or, what I really expected, for him to call me a bitch.

But he didn’t.

Instead he was hurt. And worried. It was the look in his eyes I fell in love with that night. I was addicted to him the instant I met him but in that moment I knew I’d never be the same.

Doing nothing about it nearly broke me. But letting him in? That was a thousand times worse. Every damn day I fell harder and lost more of myself. Who was I without his love? I didn’t know anymore. The thought I might lose him terrified me but the idea he was in love with me without actually knowing everything was worse.

He needed to know.

So I showed him. I showed him everything. What I’d done and the monster I seemingly created from it. How the more I tried to fix it the bigger it got. I swear I was living in Pandora’s Box.

The only way out was to tell him (and I wasn’t so sure that was going to work either.)

He stood in the middle of the room with his hand over his handsome mouth. I loved Leo’s mouth. It did wicked things to my body and said the sweetest words.

“This is what they want?” He cocked an eyebrow as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

“They don’t even know they want this.” No one really knew everything. They had bits and pieces. I was the only one who had the full picture because I was the one who painted it.

One wall was covered from top to bottom in information. File cabinets full of papers stood against a different wall. In the middle of the room stood two giant white boards covered in marks. It was my secret bunker. I bought it in cash. No one knew it existed. It was where I kept all the data.

“So you’re not a spy.”

What?“No.”

He shrugged. “It was one of many possibilities.” He moved with such grace across the room, studying—really studying—the information. “I have to be honest...this exact scenario never crossed my mind.”

“I told you I rebelled.”

His eyes drifted and he cocked his head. “This isn’t rebellion, Esme. It’s war.”

I wanted to shrink inside myself. The level of shame I felt for my actions was bone deep. I didn’t have good motives when I started. I was blind to the consequences of my decisions. All I saw was red. A desperate need to hurt the man who wouldn’t let me go. I was young and stupid.

“Now you know the truth.” I couldn’t read him. I had no idea if he was going to walk out the door, turn me in, or hate me.

Those really were the only three possibilities.

He stared at the board some more then slowly turned. It was the slowest turn in all eternity. Yes, I’m being dramatic but seriously. Could he turn any slower?

He trained his unreadable eyes on me. They wandered over my body and up to my face, stopping on my lips and hair before finally landing on my eyes. “Yes, now I know the truth. This is everything?”

I nodded. All of it. Every sordid detail. I was mortified and relieved.

He strode closer. “I have one last question.”

“Shoot.” I made ridiculous guns with my fingers then, realizing it was incredibly awkward, put my hands behind my back.

Could he just tell me which level of hate he was feeling so I could spend the night crying? Tomorrow I’d get my stuff back from his place and eat a lot of brownies. Like, epic amounts of brownies. Then, and only then, I could get back to work on unfucking my fuckup.

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