Page 25 of Nine Months to Love
Was there ever a time I found her attractive? I can’t remember anymore.
She closes her eyes. Her breath tickles my chin as she arches up toward me, and I can feel her trembling.
With want.
With hope.
With the certainty that she’s finally won.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I would have shoved the truth aside and done what she asked until she believed I cared, I wanted her. And once she felt secure in my performance, once she was soft and pliant and trusting, I would have gotten exactly what I needed from her.
And no, I wouldn’t have felt guilty.
Why would I? Mikayla never felt guilty all those times she seduced her way to sensitive information. It’s part of the job. Right now, my job is calling for the same thing. Demanding it, actually.
Except Olivia would never understand.
And as I look down at Mikayla’s expectant face, at her parted lips and closed eyes, I realize something that stops me cold. Even if Olivia did understand, even if she told me it was fine, I can’t fucking do it.
I shove Mikayla aside. She stumbles back, eyes snapping open. Betrayal floods her face, followed quickly by rage. “You asshole. You lied to me. You used me!”
I don’t look apologetic because I’m not. “I had to get her back somehow.”
The scream that tears out of her throat is inhuman. She grabs the poker from the fireplace and swings it at my head with enough force to crack my skull open. Her rage must be blinding her because she misses by several inches. Unusual for her.
I pivot and grab the poker by the handle, yanking it from her hands. She loses her balance and hits the floor hard.
Before I can toss the poker away, she’s already up and launching herself at me again. Nails out. Teeth bared. A feral she-wolf with nothing left to lose.
But I’m done playing nice. I grab her by the neck. Before she can claw my eyes out, I give her a headbutt that knocks her unconscious.
She crumples, and I have to catch her before she brains herself on the coffee table.
I drop her on the sofa and ping Taras. He shows up two minutes later, breathing hard, eyes wild. “What the fuck happened?” he asks as he takes in the chaotic scene.
I clear my throat and straighten my shirt. “I’ll explain later. Move her back to the basement cell. I want eyes on her twenty-four-seven.”
“Did she tell you anything else?” Taras looks at Mikayla’s unconscious body sprawled across the sofa, one arm dangling off the side. “About Natalia or Iakov?”
“Nothing yet. But she might still have information.”
Taras snorts. “After this, you have a better chance of her turning into a bat and flying out of the basement than telling you something useful. You might as well just kill her, brother.”
That would be easier. Cleaner. More practical. But my conscience won’t let me, and that’s new. That’s different.
Another thing to blame Olivia for.
“Just move her.”
Taras sighs and hoists Mikayla over his shoulder. “And then what?”
I pour myself another cup of cold coffee and down it in one gulp. “Then I find my mother and finish the fucking job.”
10
OLIVIA
The knock at my door makes me jump so hard the journal goes flying.
