Page 117 of Keeping Kasey
“I won’t help you.”
Somehow, there’s still a spark of flame in her gaze.
I’m going to smother it.
“You may be a conniving traitor, but you aren’t stupid. Either you help me and go out with a bullet, or you fight me, and I’ll show you all the ways I’ve imagined making you suffer over the last four months. Both end with me getting the list and you dead.”
“Why would I make this software?” she asks.
I narrow my eyes but indulge her. “To buy your freedom from me.”
The steely resolve in her gaze grows. “Then why would I havedeletedthe list in the first place?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“The kind I want an answer to,” she snaps.
I dig the blade into her throat, effectively draining her confidence, even as I answer, “To fulfill another deal. To get dirt on my family. To undermine me. I can think of a million reasons.”
Her eyes search mine. “Do you really believe that?”
“I believe you’re a cold-hearted traitor.”
Despite everything—the knife at her throat and her life on the line—she squares her shoulders. “You always knew I was cold-hearted, but I never betrayed you.”
I move swiftly, slashing the blade across her left arm. It’s a shallow cut, thanks to her jacket, but she cries out, and I muffle the sound with my hand.
I return the knife to her throat as I release her mouth. “Now is not a good time to lie to me.”
“You never gave me the chance to explain,” she croaks, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall.
“Explain what? That you worked for my brother? That you lied about Brandon? That you took the job to delete the names I hired you to find? We’re past explanations, liar. I’m out for revenge.”
“I didn’t…”
Her words trail off as I gently run the tip of the blade back and forth across her lips.
I’ve had dreams about these lips—what I used to do to them, and what it would be like to taste them again. I’m tempted to take them now, but I don’t. I’m barely hanging on by a thread as it is, and if I taste her again, there is no telling what I’ll do next.
And I need to have control over this situation.
Over her.
“What was that, liar?” I ask, using the blade to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.
“I’m not—”
A voice comes through my earpiece, and I dig the blade into her throat again to shut her up.
“Sir, there’s a man approaching from the apartment next door, and he has flowers. Should we interfere or let him come?”
I narrow my eyes at Kasey, whose breaths are ragged as she blinks back tears.
Flowers?
Why would her neighbor be bringing her flowers? Is he another victim of her manipulation?
Or is it more?
