Page 15 of Lamb

“My daughter is at the top—” my father started to answer for me, only to be cut off by a wave of that same trembling, condescending hand.

“I didn’t ask you, Henry. I askedher.” The man’s penetrating glare flicked across the table before landing on me again. And I had to stifle my laughter. For two reasons.

My father hated being called Henry. More than that,though, he hated to be talked over and corrected. This stranger had done both.

I straightened my spine, meeting the wrinkly old bastard at eye level even as he tried to puff out his chest and rise higher in his seat. “Besides the incompetence of my classmates, they are going just fine.” I lifted a shoulder into a half shrug. “Then again, it isn’t difficult to maintain your marks when everyone else is below the curve. So maybe I should be grateful they’ve made things so easy for me.”

I could feel the heat of my father’s wrath boring into the side of my head. I didn’t bother acknowledging it as I awaited the shitstorm I could feel headed my way.

The man’s lip curled into a snarl, his nostrils flaring and the veins in his neck pulsing in a way that suggested if an aneurism didn’t get him, a heart attack might. Then he slapped a heavy palm on the table and bellowed out a laugh. The sound so unsettling and manic I jumped in my chair before I could stop myself.

“She’s perfect.” He continued chuckling as he set his napkin on his plate and shoved it aside. “Tate never did like the quiet ones. No, the boy needs a challenge. Someone who will…” The man paused, as if considering his words for a moment. “…keep things interesting. In the bedroom. If you know what I mean.” He turned and cocked an eyebrow at my father, who was still shooting daggers at me.

“Of course. If only we could all be so lucky,” my father grunted, his leg dancing under the table as he tried to calm his tone enough to address me without yelling. I could feel the subtle knocking three chairs down. “Mari, this is Mr.Prescott. He wanted to meet you in person before we discussed the details of your betrothal to his son.”

I forced down the bile quickly rising in my throat and plastered on another smile. Why? Because all my sass seemed to get me was a wedding band weighing down my finger. And I didn’t even want to consider whatother thingsmy future husbandliked in the bedroom. Though I was pretty certain consent wasn’t one of them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prescott,” I croaked out.

“Please, call meTate.” He grinned. And there was that look again. The one that stressed his choice of daughter-in-law was as much forhimas it was forhis boy. Who, judging by the age of the man in front of me, wasn’t much of a boy at all but closer to a creep in his thirties. “Unless you find it uncomfortable, dear. I can only imagine what it must feel like to yell out for the son and have the father come running.”

I didn’t reply, offering another tight smile instead as I excused myself from the dining table and rushed back up the stairs to my room.

I knew this day was coming. I’d been prepared for it long before I had any concept of what getting engaged to a stranger meant. But that didn’t make the realization any easier to digest than that piece of flavorless meat my father had just tried to force me to swallow. It didn’t make me any more willing to choke it down either.

21

ADRIAN

Ipositioned myself in the chair in the corner, the darkest thing to enter the sea of pastel that made up this room, and waited. I saw the irony in me being here. In seeking her out when the plan had been to turn things around. I just didn’t care to acknowledge it.

I didn’t need to.

It was much easier to accept your fate than to fight against it. And my fate was linked to this girl. She was a speeding train that sent everything I thought I knew veering off course. And this was me… adapting. Clearing out another path before we both went up in flames. Which wasn’t out of the question just yet.

I knew who her father was. I’d looked him up after I’d found her name in the registrar’s office. I also knew what sorts of things he had his hands in and why he was so protective of her. Marisela was his safety net, a bargainingchip he dangled in front of his political backers.Do this for me, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to her.

We shared that in common. She and I. Loose morals and shit fathers.

I felt closer to her somehow because of it. In an odd way, it took hiding myself to feel more seen than I ever had before. Because she shared my darkness. She was attracted to it, and I was attracted to the way she looked at me without ever having to see me.

And that was exactly why I was here. Sitting in the blackness of her bedroom. Risking one of her father’s men busting in and finding me.

It wasn’t long before I heard the familiar sound of her footsteps padding up the stairs. Turning down the hall and heading this way. I recognized the rhythm, how she walked and held herself. The creaking of the floorboards and the twisting of the knob.

This wasn’t the first time I was in this room. It was just the first time I was letting her catch me.

The door cracked open, and Marisela slipped inside without bothering to switch on the light. Not that it mattered, because as soon as she went to turn around, I’d closed the distance. Crept up behind her. One hand clamped over her mouth, the other locked around her waist, pulling her back against me.

I couldn’t help but breathe her in. That floral scent triggering the memory of her sprawled out beneath me less than a few hours ago.

I felt her spine stiffen, the huff of air against my skin asshe sucked in on a gasp, and then the sharp sting of teeth sinking into the meat of my palm through thick leather at the same time a grin spread across my face. My little wandering lamb forgot how much I liked a bit of broken flesh. She also didn’t seem to realize how muchmoreI liked it when she was the one doing the breaking.

I leaned forward, lowering the mouthpiece of my mask to just under her ear and whispered, “If I let you go, do you promise not to scream?”

She nodded once, but I could feel her smirking beneath my gloved hand. She wasn’t even trying to hide it.

I stepped back. Crossing my arms over my chest, as she spun around and quickly flicked on the light.

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