Page 113 of A Taste like Sin

The answer is obvious. Painfully so, even. But one man may have seen it differently.

He may have felt so protective of one little girl, so involved in her trauma, that the mere hope of

putting a monster away might not outweigh the damage of forcing her to stand alone. Forcing her to

relive the same night over and over. Forcing her to face that man without true certainty her words

would matter.

Such a man might grow overly protective of said little girl. Not because she was a pawn to use at his

disposal, but because he loved her more than anything. Even his cherished version of justice.

“I’m sorry, Juliana.” Harrison waves something white beneath my nose. A handkerchief. “I didn’t

mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t,” I insist. But I accept the handkerchief regardless, swiping at my eyes with the delicate

fabric. “It’s been a stressful few days. That’s all.”

“I can imagine,” he agrees. “Your father was awake. It would be rude of me to pry, but I can only

assume that he didn’t mention anything that may help to track down his attacker?”

“No,” I say. “He… He just told me to be careful of who I trust. In this world, who can you really?”

“So cynical,” Harrison scolds. “Your father was always a cautious man. Cautious, pragmatic, but

sometimes to his detriment.”

Something in how he said that phrase resonates in my bones, lingering even as he steps away from

me, heading in the direction of his men.

“I’ll let you rest in peace,” he says. “But I’ll be waiting for a call from you. Oh, and, Juliana?” He

pauses, his head tilted expectantly, demanding a reply.

“Yes?”

“Heyworth and I may have had our differences, but I’m sure there is one point we both would agree

upon: your safety.” Again, he waits, almost as if daring me to question.

“My safety?”

“Yes. I’ve taken the liberty of stationing my men near your suite at the Lariat as well as here at the

hospital. Any visitors will be logged and searched, and any move you make, even if it’s a quick trip

to the bathroom, you will be accompanied by one of my men. I want you to feel protected—”

“That’s not necessary,” I start to say, but he raises his hand, cutting me off.

“Oh, I believe it is entirely necessary. After all, you are Heyworth’s most prized possession. I’d like

him to know, if and when he recovers, that your life was in my hands. Have a good day, Juliana.”