Page 19

BLAISE

T his woman is going to be the death of me.

One minute, I’m charging forward, doing what I set out to do, force her to tell me why she helped Ronan kill my family.

I’m rough and demanding, and fucking hell, she goes with it.

It’s hotter than fuck and short wires my brain until I feel sick from what an asshole I’m being.

The drink and disengaging to stare at nothing out the window aren’t helping.

Especially when she joins me, looking sweet and innocent and eager for more. Who the fuck is this woman?

But now she’s kneeling in front of me, her strawberry lips wrapped around my cock, and I’m gone.

Completely helpless. Powerless to resist her.

I should resign from my brothers’ plan because clearly, I’m ineffective.

If I’m not strong enough to resist Jenna, how can I possibly use her to take down the Keans?

She makes an “mmm” sound that reverberates along my cock, sending a shock of pleasure coursing in my blood.

“Take it deeper,” I demand, pushing my dick deeper into her mouth.

She looks a little surprised, but she doesn’t resist. Whatever I ask, she does.

Which takes me back to whatever Ronan asked, she did.

The arousal mixes with anger again. I rock, fucking her mouth.

Her eyes water, but she doesn’t move to stop.

She sucks and licks and in the end, she wins, bringing me to my knees as I come hard.

She stares at me, looking uncertain. “Was that okay?”

Good God, this woman… I can’t take it anymore. “It was great. I’m just going to clean up.”

Once again, I leave her side because I can’t deal with my conflicting emotions. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror wondering if this is how Flint felt as he fell for Lucy. But Lucy wasn’t a traitor. Lucy hadn’t hurt our family. So no, it couldn’t be the same.

When I return to the main room, Jenna is lying on the bed. “We still haven’t used this big bed.”

My dick perks up at that, the fucking traitor. “I’ll need a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and I feel like I’ve been pushed off a ledge and am free falling.

I lie next to her, and she nestles into my arms, her head resting on my chest.

"It feels like forever since I've been away from the estate," she says, curling closer to me. “I mean, we had dinner the other night, but this feels different. Like an escape. Between Mom and work, I barely leave the grounds anymore."

My fingers trace patterns on my arm. "You work too hard." And it’s true. She’s on twenty-four, seven between the Keans and her mom.

"Maybe." She lifts her head to look at him. "But the Keans have been good to us. Especially with Mom's medical bills. I owe them."

I fight the tension that wants to snap. Seems like they owed her for helping them destroy my family. "Still. Everyone needs a break sometimes."

"That's why I'm grateful for you." She presses a kiss to my jaw. "You make me feel normal again. Like there's more to life than just… surviving."

I resist the urge to tell her what real survival is like. How to escape a burning house fire. Dealing with the grief of losing your parents. Having people you thought were allies take everything from you. Had we not run and hidden, the Keans would have killed us too.

“Are you worried about the problems at the estate? I can't believe they're still having the party after everything that's happened.” She shudders. "What if something happens during the event?"

I’m planning on it. But I play my part. “"Hey. Nothing's going to happen. Security's been doubled."

"But why take the risk at all? Mr. and Mrs. Kean seem so determined to prove everything's fine when it's clearly not. I've never seen the estate like this. Everyone's on edge."

"The Keans know what they're doing." It’s so fucking hard to act like I’m on the Keans’ side. "They wouldn't put anyone in danger."

She bites her lip like she’s not convinced. "I just worry. About your being in the middle of it all. About Mom being so close to the main house." She looks down at our intertwined fingers. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to either of you."

“It will be okay.” I hold back on offering a promise.

"I just don't understand who'd want to hurt the Keans," she says, annoying me with her inability to let this go. "They've done so much good for the community. For me and Mom."

“Sometimes, people aren't what they seem."

"It's like history repeating itself. First the Ifrinns, now this. What kind of monsters would?—"

"The Ifrinns?" The invocation of my name makes my voice come out sharp.

"Sorry, I shouldn't… It's just bringing up old memories. But it’s so strange that these attacks are happening again.”

"Everything's under control. Trust me." I’m near my limit. I’m about to expose myself. But I can’t. Not yet.

"How can you be so sure? What if next time, someone gets hurt?”

"That won't happen."

"I feel so helpless.” Her green eyes hold mine, like she’s trying to make me understand her thoughts or like she thinks I can do anything about it. "Like we're just waiting for the next attack. And now this party… it feels reckless."

"The increased security?—"

"Isn't enough!" she snaps, surprising me with the outburst. "Sorry, I just… I'm scared, Blaise. And angry. Why us? Why now? Nothing makes sense anymore."

I’m beginning to wonder if she knows what the Keans do. They’ve actually been pretty lucky not to have more problems over the last ten years.

“The Keans have a way of doing business that sometimes upsets others.”

She purses her lips at me. “All businesses do sketchy things, but you don’t go around spreading rumors and blowing up their homes.”

Tell that to the Keans , I think but don’t say.

She sits up next to me. "I've been thinking that maybe we could help the Keans fight these rumors. I could talk to some reporters about all the good they've done for me and Mom."

My body goes cold. "What?"

"Well, they helped so many of us after the fire?—"

"No." Her words feel like a knife in my chest. Once again, she wants to help the people who killed my family.

She pulls back, her eyes wide. "But if people knew…"

The truth is sitting on the tip of my tongue. The Keans are murderers who stole everything from the Ifrinns, and you helped them. You’re complicit, Jenna. How does it feel to be a murderer?

I take a breath. "The press will twist anything you say. Or people will think the Keans paid you to say it. Plus, the Keans might not like a lowly staff person acting like they can save the family. It's better to stay out of it."

"I just want to help." She reaches for my hand, but I roll out of bed. It’s time to end this before I blow the mission altogether. "Blaise? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just drop it, okay?"

"I don't understand why you're so upset. If we could show people the real Keans?—"

"The real Keans?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You don't—" I stop myself.

"I don't what?" She rises from the bed, standing before me, arms crossed. "Why are you acting like this?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "The press is dangerous, Jenna. They'll dig into everything, everyone. Including you. Including your mom. Is that what you want?"

"No, but?—"

"Then leave it alone." I need to get this ship back on track. I soften my voice. "Please."

She studies my face like she’s trying to read my mind and figure me out. Before she can say anything, her phone rings. She pulls it from her purse and answers it. Immediately, her expression falls.

"What? But I just saw her… She was fine."

Shit. That doesn’t sound good.

"I'm coming. Tell her I'm coming." The words tumble out of her as she scrambles to find her clothes.

I catch her shoulders. "What happened?"

"Mom's in the hospital. I have to—I need to?—"

"I'll drive you.” I quickly dress, and we hurry to the hospital. I pull into the emergency entrance. "Go. I'll park and find you."

Jenna is out of the car before it fully stops.

I park and head to the emergency room. Jenna isn’t there, and I hope that means she’s able to see her mother. I’m worried sick. I’m worried for Mrs. Hart, who I don’t have any qualms with. And I’m worried for Jenna, who a few minutes ago, I wanted to hurt the way she made me and my brothers hurt.

What the hell am I doing? This isn't part of the plan. I'm getting tangled up in her life, feeling things I have no business feeling. But I can't shut it off, this need to protect her, comfort her, be there for her. Maybe I’m crazy.

I pace the hospital waiting room replaying Jenna’s earlier words about defending the Keans to the press. The family that murdered my parents. The family she helped.

The rage I need to follow through on my mission bubbles up. The Keans took everything from us, and here's Jenna, ready to sing their praises.

But then Jenna emerges, eyes red and puffy, and something in my chest constricts. She walks straight into my arms, burying her face in my chest. Her tears soak through my shirt.

"The doctors say she's stable," she whispers. "But her heart… it's getting worse."

I stroke her hair, hating how natural it feels to comfort her.

How right she fits against me. My brothers would be disgusted if they could see me holding the enemy close instead of crushing her.

But that's the problem, I realize. I don't see an enemy when I look at Jenna anymore.

I see a woman with a gentle soul and fierce love for her family.

Just like I loved mine.

Except… My parents are dead because of her. Because she helped Ronan Kean get to them. No amount of sweetness or vulnerability can erase that betrayal.

I tighten my hold on her, torn between wanting to protect her and wanting to make her pay. Between the mission I swore to complete and these unwanted feelings growing stronger by the day. Something is going to give, and I’m worried what will happen when it does.

Jenna returns to her mother’s side when I assure her that I’ll wait.

As the time passes slowly, I sit to rest, but I can't sleep.

The hospital chair digs into my back as memories of earlier tonight flood my mind.

Jenna's soft skin under my hands at the hotel, her breathy moans against my neck, the way she arched into me.

"I love you," she'd whispered.

I scrub my hands over my face, trying to erase the image of her trusting eyes, her complete surrender.

When I first seduced her, it was calculated, each touch designed to make her fall for me so I could destroy her later.

Now I crave touching her, not for revenge, but for the pure pleasure of being with her.

The way she gasps my name. How she clings to me afterward, pressing lazy kisses to my chest. The smile that lights up her whole face when I walk into a room.

Fuck. The guilt churns in my gut. Either I'm the world's biggest asshole for enjoying intimacy with someone I plan to destroy or I'm betraying my family by developing real feelings for the girl who helped kill our parents.

There's no winning here. No way this ends well for either of us.

A doctor walks by, and I hurriedly move to intercept him. “Mrs. Hart. What’s going on with her?”

“You are?”

“Her son. My sister is with her now.” The lie comes easily. If only I could lie to myself, I could tell myself that Jenna is a monster who needs to be destroyed and believe it.

The doctor glances at his chart, his expression grim. "Her heart is failing rapidly. The medications aren't working as effectively anymore."

"How long?" They’re not just waiting for her to die, are they?

The doctor's hesitation tells me everything. "Without a transplant… a few months. Her condition is deteriorating faster than we anticipated. She’s on the transplant list, but there are many in front of her.”

“How do we move her up?”

He arches a brow. “There’s no official way. Those before her get a heart or… some may pass, but?—”

"There has to be something else you can do."

"We're doing everything we can. I'm sorry." He turns to walk away, but I can’t let him go. I know what it’s like to lose parents. I want my revenge on Jenna, but not like this.

“What would it take to have something unofficial?”

“There is no unofficial route.”

“There’s always an unofficial route,” I say, leaning in closer. “I work for Hampton Kean, who’s fond of Mrs. Hart.”

“Wait, I thought you said you were?—”

“I have money, if that’s what it takes. But you’ll make this happen…” I let the threat hang. If this gets back to Hampton, I’m fucked. Maybe I should tell him who I really am, but the Ifrinns are all but forgotten. The name doesn’t carry the weight that it used to.

The fear in his eyes tells me he understands what I’m saying.

“Even if I could move her up the list, you never know when a heart will come available.”

"Mrs. Hart gets priority. You pull every string, call in every favor, I don't care what it takes." My fingers dig into his white coat. "Because if anything happens to her, if Jenna has to watch her mother die?—”

"I understand." He nods frantically.

"Good." I release him with a shove. "And Doctor? This conversation never happened.”

He straightens his coat with trembling hands. "Of course. Please let Mr. Kean know that I’ll take care of Mrs. Hart personally."

I watch him hurry away. I can’t deny it feels good to throw my weight around for a good cause. I hate that I had to use the Kean name to do it, though. But I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I can’t watch Jenna suffer through the same loss that broke me. Not even for revenge.