Chapter Eighteen #2
“I made your eyes roll back into your head, Addison. Have you ever cum that hard, hmm?” I trail a finger over her jaw, watching as a full-body shiver wracks her spine at my touch.
But she’s stubborn. Breaking her will be the greatest achievement I’ve ever set out to accomplish.
She regains a little bit of composure, pinning me with a look that could kill. “I’ve had better.”
I hum, nodding as I stand. I walk back to my station, then grab the broccoli and dice it. “When you’re ready to admit what we shared, I’ll be here.”
“Like hell,” she spits.
That fire is so intoxicating.
I never want her to lose that. No other has ever been able to put me in my place so quickly. If she wants to stretch this game thin, I’m all the more enticed to watch her burn up in my hands.
“Next question,” I muse silently to myself, unable to contain my smirk as I shield it from her.
“Why do you have a tongue ring?”
Her question causes me to shake my head in amusement. Of all the things I expect to come out of that mouth…
“Why do you think I have one?” I throw back at her.
“You don’t seem like the type to enjoy piercings.” She says, a hint of curiosity in her tone.
“And what type do I have to be to enjoy body modifications?” I lift a brow.
I can practically feel her eyes rolling. “Not an asshole.”
I hum. “There are plenty of people with piercings who are assholes. I lost a bet when Atlas and I were teenagers. I never found a reason to take it out, and it helps with oral pleasure. You of all people should know that.”
“Shut up,” she mutters, but I hear the breathlessness in her tone.
She’s thinking about what my piercing can do, and it’s making my cock respond at what could possibly be running through her head.
Is she remembering how it circled her clit?
How I memorized the motions she liked and kept doing them until she was a panting mess and rocking her hips against my face to chase her pleasure?
Fuck, I want to chase her—push her face to the Earth beneath her and rut her like a fucking animal.
I need to stop thinking about it before I do something stupid.
I clear my throat, shaking my head. “Next question.”
She’s silent for a moment, keeping me on the edge of my seat. Before, the quiet never bothered me. But now? I would fill my house with the sound of her voice if I could. Her idle conversation, her laughter, her screams. Anything to hear her surround me.
“Those guys called you the leader…” her voice trails.
“I’m the leader of the Midwestern branch. I manage the money, hits, and everything else my assassins need.”
“How are you the leader?” She’s growing curious and antsy, if her constant shifting is any indicator.
“It’s handed down through birthright. I’m the oldest Kingsley sibling, which means I inherited the title.
” It’s hard to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Anything that has to do with my old man is like stabbing into slowly healing wounds.
One minute, I think I’ve overcome everything he put me through.
The next, it’s like gouging open that scar and pulling the tissue straight from my body.
“Did you…” Addison shakes her head. “Never mind—”
“Ask me.” I press. “I’ll tell you.”
Her eyes linger on me, softening a fraction. “You said your dad was abusive…”
I nod. “He was. He trained us himself. My mom played a hand, but she was more subtle with her tactics. She mostly played the doting mother while my father took his anger out on us. In the end, she used it as life lessons.”
Addison gives a humorless snort. “She was just as horrible.”
“She never raised a hand to us.” I shrug.
It’s the same thing I told myself when I chose to keep her alive.
It’s the same thing I told my siblings when Thalia was frothing at the maw to make our mother pay for what she sat by and watched happen to us.
It’s a thin excuse, but I never could cut the tie.
I wanted a reminder that it was all real, and seeing my mother once a month after my father died was like the dose of reality I needed to keep me grounded.
“That doesn’t make it right,” Addison says in disbelief. “She may have never raised a hand to you, but she knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it.”
It’s like whiplash hearing her become angry on my behalf while still boiling with rage over what I’ve put her through.
It’s something I’m not used to. People are never angry for me.
I’m the leader of the Midwestern syndicate.
I’m meant to be impenetrable, but Addison Bright has just seen right to one of my deepest scars, and she’s enraged by it.
All these years…
I never had the time to dwell on the past. She really is unraveling me.
“It’s done,” I say. “Next question.”
“I’m not done,” she waves me off, unable to let this go. “Are they both—”
“Dead? No. My dad is, but Mom lives in a house on the compound. She isn’t on speaking terms with us.”
Her mouth falls open as her anger builds. “Seriously?! She watched you all go through hell, and isn’t speaking to you? How selfish can this woman be?”
Now I laugh bitterly. “You would be surprised.”
“She’s a grade A cunt, if you ask me. Does she know what a narcissist is? She’s like the textbook version!” She crosses her arms, settling back in her chair.
I chuckle. “I’ve been saying that for years.”
Her lips quirk before she catches herself. “Did you…kill…your dad?” She whispers it like it’s some big secret, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“No,” I whisper back. “But I did orchestrate it.”
“Good on you,” she praises. “I never thought I would agree with you on anything, but I’m glad it’s this.”
“Me too, Sunshine.” I turn on the stove and gather my ingredients.
“Don’t take this little moment as a sign that I’ve forgiven you!” she calls.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She taps on the table, taking in the kitchen as I flick on a few lights. “Those guys that were following us—”
“I handled them. Everything has been squared away, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try something.
When we take hits, other assassins can get in the way.
If they have major ties with their organization, family members, or spouses, could come after whoever harms them.
It’s common in my line of work, but you and Loxley are safe here. ”
“When will I get to see her?” She asks.
“Soon,” I promise. “I’m letting everything settle down first.”
She makes a sound. “If we’re safe here, then why can’t I see her right now? And where is my phone?”
“Your phone is put up until I trust that you won’t call the police on me.”
“Right,” she mutters. “Because I would be in the wrong for that. Still doesn’t answer why I can’t see Loxley.”
“She’s tied up with a lot. Once things have smoothed over, I’ll let you see her.” That guilt twists my gut, but I need time. I don’t know what I’m waiting on, but I have an opportunity I can’t pass up. There’s still so much I don’t know about this woman, and I can’t let her slip through my fingers.
“Can I at least text my mom?” She asks, her voice full of hope. “I told her I would reach out when I got to Columbus.”
This is the part I know she won’t like.
I saw the call log.
Imagine the reaction I got when I asked Alana to scramble the GPS signal. She and Connor thoroughly questioned me about why I had a random woman’s phone and why said random woman looked an awful lot like the woman in the photos they'd seen days ago.
I will never live that down.
“I already texted her.” I sigh, flipping the steaks.
“You texted my mom?!” Addison seethes.
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable!” She throws her hands up. “You can’t keep posing as me! She’s going to know something is up.”
“Which is why I told her who I am. I’m your boyfriend, and I helped you move up here. End of story.”
She gets a cocky expression on her face. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I tell that woman everything. If she went along with it, it’s because she knows you’re lying.”
I return her cocky look. “Really? Well, Morgan and I had a lovely conversation earlier. I can see where you get your headstrong will from.”
“You’re on a first-name basis with my mother?!” Addison’s face twists in horror.
“I am,” I turn my nose up at her.
“You suck.”
“Not as good as you, Sunshine.”
She makes a frustrated sound, and I know I’ve won this battle.
I pile our plates high with food before bringing them to the table. I slide Addison’s before her, and she lifts a brow. “Do I eat this with my hands?”
“Can I trust you with a fork and knife?”
“Caveman-style it is.” She mutters before picking at her broccoli with her nails.
“I have some work to finish after dinner, but feel free to explore.” Making small talk seems a little strange now that she knows most of my secrets, but it isn’t bad.
“Why am I locked in here?”
Her question throws me for a mental loop. “So you don’t run screaming for the hills.”
She frowns at her plate. “I have nothing to entertain myself with.”
I motion to the flatscreen over the fireplace. “Watch whatever you would like. I have every streaming service imaginable, thanks to Alana.”
Her eyes shift up to me, and I see a crack in the rigid ice wall. “Who’s Alana?”
Is that jealousy I hear in her voice?
It can’t be.
“Why do you want to know?” I shouldn’t push her, but I can’t help it. Poking at her is far too much fun.
“I’m just curious.” She quickly diverts.
Right. And I’m not thinking about how much better it would be to lay her out on this table and eat her as my meal instead.
“She’s the branch’s intel expert. She’s a genius who uses her tech skills to help erase footage and infiltrate businesses from the inside. You’ll meet her soon, too. She’s dating another assassin who lives on the compound.”
I notice the visible relaxation in her. Her shoulders sink as if a weight has been lifted, and it toys with that sick side of me that wants to own her.
She takes a bite, moaning at the flavor, and my cock responds to the sound. “This is so good. How did you learn to cook like this?”
I subtly adjust myself, attempting to eat with some poise despite the feral need this woman brings out of me. “I taught myself. I had to.”
“The most I can make is box Mac and Cheese,” she takes another generous bite.
“I can teach you,” I shrug. “If you would like?”
Her eyes connect with mine, and it’s like the whole world around us ceases to exist. All I can see is her.
“I think I would like that.” She answers before continuing to eat.
It isn’t much, but it seems we’ve established a fragile truce. It creates a flourish of hope in me, and I eat as a comfortable silence fills the dining room.