Page 41 of Irish Vice

I laugh, because something swells in my throat. If I don’tpretend to be amused, I might burst into tears. “I just don’t know if I can do what he wants me to do,” I say.

She stiffens. “Does he hurt you?”

I don’t answer right away, because I’m ashamed of my reply.

“Sam,” Alix says. “This is important. Does he make you do things you don’t want to do?”

I shake my head. It’s easier to answer with my eyes closed. “I want it. All of it. He’s never forced me to do anything.”

Her exhale is long and low and tells me more about her past than I think even she realizes. “What are you afraid of?” she finally asks.

I’m afraid Braiden’s life and my life are too tangled to ever pull straight. His marriage to Birte. His responsibility to watch over Aiofe. His running the Fishtown Boys, and whatever pull Fiona has over him, and Madden’s fucking lies.

I’m afraid he’ll find someone braver than I am to wear his collar.

I’m afraid he’ll get tired of me.

But I say out loud: “I’m afraid he doesn’t need me as much as I need him.”

Alix’s smile is soft. “What can you do for him that no other woman can do? That no otherpersoncan do?”

The question takes me by surprise.

Braiden has all the money in the world. He has loyal men who’ll put their lives on the line without question. He has power and glory and prestige. There is literally nothing he can’t buy.

That leaves my body.

The only thing I have that Braiden might want is my physical body. The one he puts in a collar. The one he uses until I ache, in my heart and in my flesh. The one I give to him, over and over and over again, because I can’t imagine a life without the release he gives me in exchange.

I don’t know if Alix reads my answer on my face. But sheputs her hand over mine and says, “Think about it.” Squeezing my fingers, she climbs to her feet. “And if you need another place to make out, be sure to reserve the room on the master calendar.”

My laugh is only a little shaky as I follow her out of the conference room.

16

SAMANTHA

Since my talk with Alix, I’ve been in the strangest mood.

Alix’s question—what can you do for him that no other woman can do?—drives me more than a little wild. A pulse beats between my thighs, reminding me of every orgasm Braiden has ever delivered.

It’s devastating to think I have no currency other than my own flesh. My worth is sculpted down to a single bare essential.

But I have to admit, it’s exciting too. As Braiden drives us home from the freeport, I want to grab the steering wheel. I want to jam his foot down on the gas pedal. I want to drive to Thornfield, blow past the gate, and fuck Braiden on the hood of his car.

I’m drunk on the mere thought of sex.

This drive is so different from my trip to the freeport this morning. Then, I took the call from Detective Tarrant. Then, Sonja told me I needed more legal counsel. Then, I learned my life will be splayed for the public on Mousetrap.

But right now, in the midst of my madness, all those complications seem like a distant nightmare. No. Not a nightmare. Nightmares aren’t real.

The police investigation and the ethics hearing—even the paparazzi who will swarm the Thornfield gate when we get home—none of them matter in the confines of this car tonight. They’re waiting for me. I can’t avoid them. But I can pick them up in the morning, after Braiden quenches the crazy drunkenness inside me.

The April air smells sweeter than it ever has before. Colors are brighter. I can hear individual blades of grass growing.

When we finally arrive at Thornfield, Braiden heads for his office. I know he’s reaching out to Patrick Moran, making final arrangements for the transport of the illuminated manuscript. He’s applying all the facts I gave him today. He’s working. He’s a machine.

I go to the pool house.