Page 24 of Dead Bled Ringer

I was pretty sure she was the only woman in the world I could ever see myself loving.

But Henry didn’t really want a conversation.

“She’ll do I guess. Looks like a fucking milkmaid, doesn’t she, with those massive tits? Shareholders love that shit. And did you know her grandpa was like an inventor or some shit? Has some patents or something. He’s loaded.”

I said nothing, watching as Angelise moved from guest to guest, watched as that massive rock sparkled in the air, and how she looked at my brother with such perfect love and devotion in her eyes.

And I swallowed down my desire, like I’d done every day since then.

“I can’t tell you why I did it,” I said. “But Henry’s really sorry. I promise.”

Her lip curled up as she looked at me with disgust in her eyes. Then she dropped my tie and rolled off me.

“Don’t look me in the eyes and tell me bullshit, Hunter. I thought you were better than that.”

“Angel—”

But she was gone.

I watched from the shadows of the house as Henry and Angel argued. It wasn’t even much of an argument. Angel just dragged all her blankets down to the couch and turned on the TV. It was obvious she intended to stay there all night.

It was wrong to stay here and stalk her silently from the shadows, but I couldn’t pry myself away.

I had to make sure Henry wasn't rough with her, didn’t take outmyfailure on her.

My twin paced back and forth in his office, but not once did he call me.

That made me feel very uneasy.

Had he given up?

Why hadn’t he told me what his next move was?

He knew I was utterly trapped by the blackmail. That I would have to do whatever he asked.

Was it possible he had decided to let her go?

I really should leave, head back to my trailer, but something kept me there.

What a fucking creep I was, but I couldn’t stop staring at Angel as she slept curled up in that big blanket on the couch.

Maybe this time it was finally over between them.

But.

It didn’t mean anything for me.

Even if I could ever beg for forgiveness and convince her I’d had good reasons for licking her pussy under false pretenses, why would she ever want to see my face again? I looked exactly like her husband.

Bleak depression seized me, and I brought my knife up to my face, dragging the tip down one cheek and across my jaw.

Maybe if I mangled this stupid fucking face and didn’t look so much like my twin, there would be a chance. Maybe if she didn’t see him every time she looked at me. . .

Blood dripped down my chin as I clutched the knife tighter in my fingers.

How deep would I need to go? Because I’d flay that much skin from my body to even have achanceto possess her.

But just as I pressed the tip in again, I saw a movement.