Page 14

Mitch glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and I could see the gratitude in his eyes.
“Maybe. I thought you were sick? You’re doing a lot of talking for a sick child.” His father shot him a look as he turned the car into the next street.
Denzel had slumped back into the seat, but those innocent brown eyes eventually drifted back to me. I let him watch me for a long moment, feeling the weight of his curiosity.
When I turned to meet his gaze, his face lit up and his smile crashed through the barrier around my heart. I hadn’t beenaround children much as an adult, and the pure innocence took my breath away.
I smiled back.
That was all he wanted. A fucking smile.
Satisfied with his success, Denzel snuggled back into his seat and sighed happily.
I shook my head, envious of his little life, and was somehow changed by the experience. He’d softened a little spot on my heart and made me want more. Like he’d given me a little glimpse of the good that was available in life, if I only opened to it.
From that moment on, I was determined to make sure he had everything he always needed.
That Christmas, Mitch got an enormous bonus, which took me about an hour to insist he take, and he bought his ex-wife a house.
Idiot.
I was expecting him to buy the house for himself.
“Denzel lives with his mom eighty percent of the time. It’s better for him to have a safe home to live in.”
Jesus Christ.
Now I was going to have to give him another big bonus, and it would take another year.
I knew he wouldn’t accept a handout. The hour in my office forcing the money down his throat proved that. The man has honor and pride. I respected that.
Don’t go thinking I’m a good guy.
I’m not.
If I could, I would have my father strung up in a dungeon and peel pieces of his skin from his body every day. Waiting for it to scab up, then taking a knife and peeling it away just before it healed once more.
Oh, the things I’ve fantasized about. Between the nightmares. After all, Pierce taught me to be a monster.
Denzel just feels like my redemption.
Kyra won’t be so lucky.
I transfer the money and send an encrypted message with the address.
Then at the end of the day, I get a message.
Package is ready for delivery.
I stride through my office, ripping my Armani jacket off the hook on the door, and walk out the door. “Have a good night, Janice.” I tell my secretary.
“Goodnight, Mr. Sterling,” she replies. “I’ll have that report from finance to you by ten tomorrow, as promised.”
Nodding, I reach the elevators and press the button, my heart thumping.
I’ve just kidnapped a woman.
There’s no coming back from this now.