Page 62 of Crossed
He towers over me, and Ihatehow tall he is and how, even if I lift my chin, it only puts me further at his mercy.
“And can I expect to see you at Mass this Sunday, Miss Paquette?”
His voice curls around me like rope, and I imagine taking a knife and sawing through the threads.
“As long as Parker’s there,” I reply, a little too sweetly.
It’s petty, and I’m one hundred percent doing it to make him jealous. Or maybe to get the point across that what happened yesterday meansnothing. Less than.
His eyes flare, but then he smiles and nods. “I’ll be looking for you then, petite pécheresse.”
My chest pulls when he leaves, wanting to follow him and demand an apology for what he’s said, but I spin toward where Parker is instead.
Parker leans against the lip of his desk, his ankles crossed and blond hair slicked back as he stares at me. He doesn’t speak, just waits patiently.
So I take a deep breath and exhale it slowly, coming to terms with the fact that from this moment forward, my life will change. It’s a risk, what I’m about to do. Dangerous, and maybe I’ll look back on this moment as the second I fucked everything up for good.
But he’s my best bet at making sure nothing happens to me. If I’m safe, then so is Quinten, and I’d rather die a thousand deaths than let anything bad ever happen to him.
Closing my eyes, I enjoy the last few moments of my freedom before opening my lids and staring Parker directly in the eyes, telling him everything.
Admitting that I’ve been working at the Chapel.
That a regular got too bold and ended up dead.
And then I say the one thing I never have.
I say yes to marrying him.
Chapter23
Amaya
“YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, SWEETHEART. Jason is the best defense attorney in the state, not that I think you’ll actually need him beyond this preliminary stage. You couldn’t have possibly had the strength to do the things that happened to that idiot, and you’re not a suspect, just a person of interest. He’ll make it go away,” Parker assures, his hand touching the back of my neck.
He’s been doing that since I became “his” yesterday. Always touching me. A hand on the knee, fingers on the back of my neck, an arm wrapped possessively around my waist. His tongue down my throat.
And I accept it all, keeping Quinten’s face in the front of my mind. Hisfuture. One that I’ll be a part of and that may even be better than it was before.
At least that’s what I’m reassuring myself with. Parker’s a dangerous man, but he’s never hurt Quinten.
“Okay,” I reply, staying docile, even though everything in my nature is begging me to jerk away from his touch and tell him that this whole thing is bullshit. I’minnocent, for God’s sake.
“And you’ll never go back to that club, Amaya.” Parker’s voice is stern.
Sucking on my lips, I nod again, letting the bittersweet emotions pour over me. I’ll miss my outlet for pole, but to be honest, I didn’t want to go back there. Not after what happened.
It’s tainted now.
Right now, we’re in the back of Parker’s town car heading to my apartment. He wants me to move in with him immediately, but I’ve convinced him to give me time. I need to ease Quinten into things, and I also need to tell Dalia.
She’s going to be so fucking pissed.
Parker leans back in his seat, his legs spreading wide like he owns the world.
I suppose he does.
“I’m glad that fucker’s dead,” he states.
