Page 85 of Bed of Thorns

My hands were shaking as I wrapped the picture, but I refused to allow the man to intimidate me. I kept a smile on my face as I returned to the showroom. Once I handed him the package, I did everything I could not to back away.

“This is a very special gift, Mercedes. Thank you.” He walked toward the door, stopping the moment he placed his hand on the glass surface. When he spoke, he issued the statement without turning around. “I’ve taken the liberty of handling certain difficult situations that have caused you great pain. You have Edmond to thank for that. He loves you dearly. I hope you know that and respect the decisions he’s made.”

When he walked out, I found myself spiraling, my mind shifting into various horrors of what he might be talking about.

And I knew. He’d had Joseph killed.

As the information settled in my brain, I began to shake. Then I raced into the back, dumping my purse until I located my phone. I’d programmed Sheila’s number in, longing for a connection with my past life.

When I dialed her number, I cringed, falling against the counter. How many others had he killed?

Or had Edmond been required to pass another test?

CHAPTER18

Edmond

“There’s no escaping here. It’s like Alice in Wonderland except you don’t ever wake up. And the rabbit hole you fell down through? There’s no easy landing.”

—Aesha

The rabbit hole. I’d already spiraled down into the pitch blackness of infinity. At this point, I knew there would be no ladder, no rope tossed in order to help me become freed. I’d lost my soul as well as my humanity somewhere along the way while gaining everything I’d thought had mattered.

Money.

Power.

Influence.

I was on the cusp of becoming important. Now I laughed at the thought. One person really wasn’t any more important than the next except in their own arrogant minds.

I stood with my hands in my pockets in front of the reflective glass of my office, staring out at the beautiful waters of the ocean. They were turbulent on the warm afternoon, just like my psyche had become. While the glare on the window was significant, the reflection staring back at me was full of anger.

Gone was the joyous look I’d experienced in being with Mercedes again. In its place was the cold, calculating look of a…

Killer.

It was apparent I hadn’t killed Damian Ryker, or the Prism Group wouldn’t have accepted me into their disturbing fold. Or would they? I chuckled as I took a deep breath. What was the saying about keeping your enemies closer? They’d used me as much as I’d allowed myself to become used. They’d lured me in with the thought of unending money and the chance at ruling the world.

What man wouldn’t want to become that powerful?

In the end, I’d betrayed the single person who mattered, the only one who could save me from the blackness of losing my soul.

Mercedes.

It was impossible to determine whether or not I’d broken the last tie, one that I thought would withstand anything. I’d seen the look in her eyes. I’d felt the agonizing pain she’d been experiencing over the last few weeks while I spiraled out of control. I’d believed that in the end, I could balance good versus evil, and after only five weeks, I’d come to realize that was impossible.

The lure was in so deep that eventually it would bring me to my knees or worse.

Be the force behind destroying the goodness inside of Mercedes.

I couldn’t allow that to happen. This had to end.

Money meant nothing without her.

Fuck. She was right about the house. It wasn’t us. There wasn’t a single thing inside that house that meant something to either one of us.

The painting.

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