Page 38 of Deception

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Big Ben asks Tomasz’s driver as they exchange an envelope for a briefcase. “Shouldn’t she be dead already?”

I feel sick. This man…I trusted him. He was my handler. A family friend. I’ve known him all my life, and when he looks at me, we are strangers. He’s standing in front of me, flanked by security, as though he didn’t take an oath to serve his country. Like it wasn’t his job to make sure I made it back to my life.

“You set me up.” The words burst from my mouth as realisation dawns on me. “You son of a bitch! You fucking set me up!”

My grandma was right all along.

Trust no one, she told me. I should’ve listened.

“You fucked me over!” Pulling Tomasz’s gun from the top of his trousers, I aim it straight at the bastard.

“Easy, Red…” Tomasz rests his hand on top of the pistol, slipping it down to my wrists to divert my aim.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I bark at him, nudging his hand away. “I thought…I…I thought…”

What did I think?I’ve known all along who Tomasz is. It’s the other man that has my tears burgeoning in my eyes. My heart sticks in my throat, pounding and pounding.

This is why no one has come for me.

I’ve fought and fought. Even when I was drained of my strength, I pushed through, hoping I would live another day. I did what it took to stay alive and finish what I was sent to him for. I let him fuck me. I…I…

“Red…” Tomasz steps in front of me, hands bracketing mine on either side of his gun as he moves flush to the muzzle and cocks his head to the side.

The smirk that lives on his face when he’s taunting me falls to a stern line. This is exactly what he wanted. The mind games were nothing but foreplay.

“What does it say about you?” I sob quietly, still trying to push through because all I can hear is my grandma telling me to bolster up and keep at it.

Do what it takes to live another day.

“Huh, Tomasz? What does it say about you that the only way you can break me is by using others?”

His wordless reply is nothing but a narrowed scowl, slowly morphing into a whisper of a smile.

“So powerful,” I growl. “So strong…huh? But you needed to use them to fuck me completely. So come on, oh master of the fucking underworld…” A maniacal laugh escapes me. All logic and sanity have evaporated. The whir of my thoughts is a deranged keen that I can’t silence. “Come on, tell me! What does it say about you?”

The faint smile grows as I sidestep, and he mirrors my action. We spin around in slow circles, a dance I had no clue I’d be doing today. The world around me fades to black. Present, past, and future cease to matter in the moment. It’s just me and him and our personal warfare.

“It says that we are enemies, and in battle, everything is fair game, Lucy Stanton.”

I can’t breathe. The vice around my heart tightens with the sound of my name on his lips, making it impossible to hear anything else. It’s just my name in his part-Russian, part-American twang. It’s a song that tugs at all the anguish roiling inside me. It’s simply the lick of his tongue over his lip. The mere flutter of his dark lashes while we spin and circle under the glare of the sun. The flare of his nose as we cross-step and edge closer, as though he’s physically breathing me in. Until the gun squared to his chest is the only thing keeping us apart.

When my stare flits down to it, he urges me, “Go on. Do it.”

My pulse hiccups with my inhale before it kick-starts again, so fast that my thumbs tremble as I stroke them either side of the firearm in my grasp. His touch is so hot, and when I look up at him, there’s no smugness in his eyes. For a moment, I’m incapable of doing anything other than watching him, and for that instant, my racing heart calms.

“No more empty threats, Red. Remember?”

“Yes.” My hiss does nothing to disguise my tears as they break free and skitter down my face, fogging my vision through his sunglasses.

You’re going to want them. His remark comes back to me. Tomasz knew he was going in for the kill with this move, and yet he tried to spare me some of my pride.

I don’t understand him. I don’t understand his actions or his games. Worst of all, I can’t fathom why I’m thawing at the flicker of concern in his eyes or the warmth of his touch. The fact that he gave me something to hide my tears or that he’s keeping me on my feet when my entire being is crumbling to the ground shouldn’t matter. I should do what I promised. I should kill him. Put a bullet through his chest and physically shatter his heart the way he’s proverbially obliterated mine.

So why are you hesitating?

Confusion muddles my steps, and when I almost stumble, his hands slip down from my wrists to my elbows, gripping them hard while pressing them to my sides. It’s the only thing that stops me from toppling. He’s holding me up instead of disarming me.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, so low that it’s a secret bringing us closer, tying us together. “You’re mine, Red. I’m inside you like you’re inside me.”

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