Page 81 of His Trick

He looked me over again, his molten eyes sharp, and for a second I thought he smirked. Instead, he nodded once and nearly knocked me over with a beautiful, toothy grin. He radiated light in that smile.

“There’s my Good Boy. You don’t fold, Shiloh. Not for anyone.”

A bitter laugh slipped out. “Except you, you evil, asshole.”

His jaw tightened, but then he leaned in, close enough that I felt his breath on my lips. “You didn’t fold, Sunshine. You fucking fought me. Hard. That’s what I wanted to see. You’re stronger than you think, Shiloh, even when you’re scared. You held back zero punches and made me fucking work for my prize.”

The word scared hit deep. My chest twisted because he knew. He knew what was waiting. And maybe that is why he did this.

My father.

Carrington saw it in my silence. His hand came up, gripping the back of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly under my jaw until I looked at him. His eyes were dark and unflinching.

“You think he’s some monster you can’t stand up to.” His voice was low and steady, like the iron around us. “But you just proved you can stand up to me. You took everything I threw at you, and you’re still breathing. Still standing. You hear me?”

My throat worked, words caught somewhere between fear and the strange comfort of his certainty.

He leaned even closer, his forehead pressing against mine. “Your old man bleeds just like everyone else. He doesn’t get to own you, Sunshine. Not anymore. Not with me here.”

The conviction in his tone startled me. He sounded like it wasn’t just a promise, but a fact already carved in skin, and etched eternally.

“Now you’ll face him,” Carrington said. “And you’ll win because you’re mine now. And you earned that right.”

Something broke in me with that statement. Something small and trembling that had clung to the idea that I’d always be the boy under my father’s boot, waiting for him to kill me, or worse, finally…I’d become him, and he’d win more than my body. He’d take my soul.

For the first time, I wondered if Carrington was right.

I drew a shaky breath. “And what if I fail, Care Bear?”

“You won’t. I got you. If you start to fall, I will be there to stand your ass back up.” His grip tightened, almost painful, as he dragged my gaze back to his and pressed his lips hard into mine until I couldn’t breathe again.

I should’ve laughed. Should’ve called him arrogant, hell, even delusional. But instead, I believed him. His belief in me was heavier than my own doubt. His strength and confidence in me were pressing the shame and fear down until it cracked.

My father’s smoke made me think of Carrington now. That Turkish tang brought me to the rain-soaked ground where he kissed me. Everything I used to fear about my father seemed small, or was replaced by a memory of the crazy asshole I belonged to, and for the absolute first time in my life, the thought of facing my father didn’t make me want to run.

It made me want to fight.

Knowing Carrington was by my side.

And I wasn’t alone.

“Visitation’s in one hour,” a new guard said flatly, giving us and our disheveled appearances a once-over before he rapped on the door. The monitor attached to the heavy steel buzzed, then groaned open.

Inside, there were rows of bolted tables and chain-linked chairs. Voices that were low and tense, carrying just enough to make my skin crawl. I scanned the room, my pulse climbing as I searched for him. Not knowing what the man looked like after all this time. Did he still have my dirty blond hair? Were his eyes still void of fucking emotion?

Carrington leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. “Last chance. You want to walk out, we do it now. Say the word.”

I forced my feet forward. “No, I need this.”

“Then own it,” he growled. “He’s the one in chains, not you. Don’t forget that.”

I nodded, even though the knot in my stomach said otherwise.

Then I saw him.

Edmund Anderson. My father.

He was sitting at the far table, his posture regal despite the prison blue outfit, like he wasn’t a prisoner at all. Like the whole damn room bowed to him if he demanded it. His eyes locked on mine instantly, with a slow, serpentine smile curling his mouth.