Page 30 of Chain Me

“T-Tinkles?” Panic clenched my lungs, making each breath a struggle. “Where is he?”

“Safe,” Dublin replied before I could assume the worst. “I will return him to you, of course.Afterwe finish our discussion.”

“Or?” Despite my feelings toward him, there were some lines even I had never envisioned him crossing. Then again, I’d never owned a piece of his soul before.

“Or I’ll keep him,” he warned. “We both know he won’t mourn your company.”

I bit my lip in anguish. In some ways, it was a far worse bluff than threatening his life. I would be the only one disenfranchised in this equation.

“What do you want?”

“I suggest we revert to our usual method of communication.” He placed something onto the bedside table, beside the food: a rectangular, leather-bound book flipped open to a blank page. When my gaze returned to Dublin, he crossed his arms, transforming into his businessman persona. “We negotiate.”

“Via a contract?” I backed away near the wall, keeping him in full view.

“Yes. I will apologize for last night if that’s what you want.”

“And what doyouwant?” I whispered.

He cocked his head and shrugged, smoothing his hands along the front of his suit. “I think it’s best if you stay with me.”

I didn’t miss the marked shift in his tone. Cautious. As though I were a simpleton best communicated with via slow, careful wording.

“For your protection,” he said. “You need proper medical care. I will make all the arrangements—”

“Don’t pretend like you care,” I warned. His words still hurt, smarting on my psyche like invisible scratches. “Just cut to the chase and tell me what youreallywant.”

His eyes narrowed. “Should I come out and say it, then? I want my contract, of course.”

Ah. It was a game of hide-and-seek I’d planned over two months ago. Back when bitterness had driven me to hide the leather bookwhere no one would ever find it,or so the childish part of me had claimed.

Knowing Dublin, everything I had was probably in the gloved hands of one of his agents, being ruthlessly inspected as we spoke. Or he’d searched for it himself. Hell, maybe that was the reason his hair was slicked, damp in a way that eerily coincided with the rain lashing at the window beyond him.

But one obvious fact diminished my glee at the prospect.

“You didn’t know I had it. Did you?” Suddenly drained, I crept forward and sat on the edge of the mattress, as far from him as possible.

“No.” He glared through the window. “Raphael doesn’t part with his trophies easily.”

“So, what happens if I tell you? I wind up shackled to another bed? Or is this the part where you threaten me for real?” I squared my chin, fighting to sound brave. Even before I saw his jaw clench, I knew I’d failed.

“To kill you? How about we bargain instead, like I suggested? You want to stay at Gray Manor? Fine. You want to live in denial? Fine. As long as you remain under my protection, you can set whatever terms you wish.”

“And as long as I return your contract,” I added.

He nodded after a second’s pause. “That as well.”

I bit my lip. To relinquish the one morsel of power I held over him or not?Knowledge is king, my father used to say, during one of the rare moments when he wasn’t heralding the importance of money.Never surrender it willingly.

“I’d like to know it’s secure,” Dublin insisted. “However, telling me its location won’t invalidate your ownership.”

I noted how reluctantly he added that last tidbit of information.

“Even if I tell you, it will change nothing,” I felt compelled to say. “I still don’t forgive you for insulting me—”

“And I don’t expect you to. As for our agreement, shall we put it in writing?” he asked. “You agree to stay with me as well as reveal the location of my contract. In return, you set your own terms.”

I attempted to meet his gaze and found no hostility in it. No real emotion, either. Just endless burnished silver. “Fine. I want… François gets to remain as my driver.”