Page 15 of Mastered by Them (Rose and Dagger #2)

Troy

I didn’t think it would hurt so much. But three days away and I’m in just as much agony as I was when I left Edmund’s place.

For the past few days, Amber has been wearing her bubbly, friendly persona. All smiles, flirtatious jokes, light physical contact. If she saw me shudder when her fingertips grazed my forearm, she ignored it.

But she was a lot more careful about touching me after that.

“You’re going to love the venue, Troy.” She cranes her neck to look out the car window. “We should see it in just a few minutes. You’ve probably been there before—the Rosa Roja?”

“I’ve been there.” Blank voice. Dead eyes. I’m a stone, immovable and emotionless.

“Well, it’s gorgeous, and it’s the perfect place for the grand opening.”

I don’t respond. Three days ago, I told her I’d work for her, but we would never have a relationship. She laughed at that, like our break-up was some kind of old, funny mishap. “We kind of imploded at the end, didn’t we?”

That’s not how I would describe it, but she has always been an expert at rewriting history that doesn’t match her warped version of reality.

We get to the hotel and I help Amber out of the car. She pretends to need my hand, so I have to touch her. A faint smile plays on her pink-painted lips as we walk up the steps and through the double doors. She won.

I’m an idiot, because she always wins.

As she leads me through the plan for tomorrow, I wonder if her new clients know anything about how Pinton Environmental Consulting Solutions is run. Because it’s lies. Just a big fat company of lies.

The hotel lobby reeks of old money. This is money older than Edmund’s grandfather. Older than the Aseyevs’ wealth. This is colonial money, earned from colonial theft. Criminals never change, I guess. This isn’t the first time I’m ashamed to be one.

I wish Dani could see me like I really am. Amber ruined all that. She must have seen me with Dani at some point, or heard about her from one of her spies. She must have figured out we were close. Then she went in for the kill.

I haven’t let on that I know Amber contacted Dani. In the end, what the fuck does it matter? She did it, and I need a job.

So here I am, working for the enemy...who is also my ex.

You’re hurting me, Troy. Please, stop . Followed by wicked laughter over my confusion and dismay.

I shake away the memories.

“Here’s where the band will set up.” Amber points to one side of the big room. Olivia Santiago held a benefit here, not too long ago. Edmund nearly got into a fight with Dani’s brother. “Are you getting this?”

The hotel manager, a middle-aged guy with a head of curly auburn hair, nods. “Yes, Ms. Pinton. This is an ideal spot with the acoustics of the room.”

He hasn’t stopped staring at her since we arrived.

I get it. Amber is a beautiful woman. Long legs, a perfect ass, a heart-shaped face with bow lips that she accentuates with a pink gloss.

Her rich, blond hair always gleams. The gray dress she wears today is stylish, and she carries a deep purple Baciarvita bag that matches her heels and amethyst necklace.

“I understand you’ll be presenting at your event?” The manager tries, and fails, to stop checking out Amber’s chest.

“Yes,” Amber says in her sweet, happy voice. She doesn’t care that he’s staring—she thrives on the admiration. “I’ll have someone monitoring the slides. Did you say you have a tech room for that purpose?”

“We do.” The manager sweeps his arm grandly to the far side of the room. “Right this way, Ms. Pinton. I’ll show you the set-up. Tomorrow, we’ll have an audio-visual technician on hand. She can run your presentation, or she can get one of your people up to speed if you would prefer.”

He leads us to a narrow door leading to a hallway. He points to the left side of the hall. “These are service restrooms, and across the hall here is the AV room.”

The door swings open, revealing a small room full of tech.

Amber nods, satisfied, before requesting a tour of the kitchen. “The caterer says he came by already, but I’d like to see it for myself.”

“Of course, Ms. Pinton.” He leads us out of the room, down the hall, and back to the main room. “It’s admirable you take charge of all the details.”

Ass-kissing sycophant.

“Troy.” Amber points at the doors to the main room as we go through them. “Will the team I’ve hired be enough to manage security?”

I do some mental calculations, reviewing the info she’s already given me and matching it with the hotel specifications. “It should be fine. If you’re concerned, having two to four extra bodies wouldn’t hurt.”

“Are there weak spots?” she asks.

“Not really.” This isn’t a high security event. Guards are mostly here to elevate the appearance of wealth, and to make sure people don’t get drunk and disorderly. “But guards might need the occasional break. Hiring extra will keep everyone fresh.”

She nods. “I knew I could trust you to think things through.”

“Of course.”

Her smile is bright and cheery as we follow the hotel manager to the kitchen adjacent to the event room. It’s easy to see why I originally fell in love with this woman. She’s gorgeous, capable, charismatic.

Her foot catches on something as we walk, and she stumbles. She lets out a little shriek of fear.

My arm darts forward instinctively. I keep her from falling.

Now I’m almost hugging her. Breathing in her perfume. I immediately set her up straight and take a big step back.

“Clumsy me.” She grins at me in victory. “I can trust you with everything, can’t I?”

No, she really can’t. And I can’t trust her, either.

She touches the manager’s arm to get his attention. “Can you excuse us for a moment?”

“Of course.” The poor idiot bows, like Amber is royalty. “I have some messages to respond to. I’ll be in the room just behind you.”

We step out of his way, and then we’re alone in the wide corridor.

“Troy.” Amber’s light brown eyes shine. “I know we agreed that things are over between us. But...what if they aren’t?”

“I can’t do this again.” I fold my arms across my chest.

“You have to feel the same as I do, though. Tell me it isn’t just me.” She puts her hands on my upper arms. Not quite a hug.

My heart thunders in my chest. Run. Run. Run. But I stay where I am. If I leave, she’ll chase. She’ll get hurt, somehow. It’ll be my fault. It always was and it always will be.

She whispers, “I’ve missed you so much. You left, and you broke my heart.”

If I were stronger, I’d tell her I had to leave. If I had stayed, it would’ve killed me. She would’ve killed me. By the end of our relationship, I didn’t know up from down, good from bad, right from wrong.

“Troy.” Her voice is softer than a mosquito’s whine, but just as grating. She stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine.

I freeze. I should’ve expected this. Planned for it. But I didn’t and now I’m unable to move.

I don’t kiss her back, but I don’t know how to stop her, either.

* * *

Danica

When I get back to the apartment after work, I say a quick, subdued hello to Edmund.

Then I go straight to my room. The past few days with Edmund have been quiet.

Troy left straight after I yelled at him.

At first, I was glad. I truly didn’t want to look at the man I’m falling for, and try to reconcile my feelings with the knowledge that he has hurt people. So many people.

Even later, seeing the list of arrests, the charges, made me sick.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at the photographs.

Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I wonder if I was too rash in sending him away. Should I have waited for an explanation? If I had, though, he would’ve just told me none of those charges stuck. He would’ve said an arrest doesn’t make him guilty. Abusers always have excuses.

I didn’t do it.

If I did, it’s because she made me.

It wasn’t bad.

If it was bad, it was her fault for not being stronger.

And in the end, he works for a criminal family. I don’t know how I could’ve expected anything different from him.

“I can’t take this anymore.”

I look up, startled to see Edmund standing in my bedroom doorway. Cackle jumps from my lap to greet him.

“Can’t do what?” I ask.

“You’re like a ghost. Barely living, barely talking to me. And, sure, fine, you hate me I guess, but you’re not even calling your friends or family. You haven’t gone anywhere except to work.”

I’m surprised he’s noticed. He’s been busy, going out at all hours, and often on his phone or laptop when he’s home. I figured my comings and goings weren’t registering. I guess he’s been paying more attention than I thought.

The idea sparks a little warmth in the vicinity of my empty, aching heart.

He picks up Cackle, who purrs in his arms. “Look, while I think you jumped to some conclusions about Troy?—”

“You’re saying he didn’t do those things?” I let skepticism drip from my tone.

“Christ.” He closes his eyes and rolls his neck.

“I’m not saying he didn’t do some of those things.

But he never, ever attacked a woman, never hurt a woman.

The sexual assault allegations are completely wrong.

He was helping those women. We see terrible shit in our line of work.

He was helping, but he got blamed because of who he works for and how he looks. ”

“Everything else on the list?”

“I don’t want to lie to you, Danica. He probably did some of it.

” He sets down Cackle, who ambles out of my room to wreak feline havoc on other parts of the house.

“And what he did was all in the line of work. Under my direction, my father’s, or my grandfather’s.

It’s part of our life, and part of yours, too, even though you’ve conveniently ignored it. ”

“Conveniently?” I sputter. “I didn’t ignore shit, you fapping fuckstain. My family kept me in the dark. I had no fucking clue, so you can shove those assumptions right up your perfect ass.”

He grins. “You like my ass.”

Of course that would be the part of my speech he fixates on.

I stand up and gesture at the wall, in the direction of Troy’s empty room. “Do you even care that he left?”

“You think I don’t miss him, too?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ve known him a lot fucking longer than you have, and he’s been the one positive constant in my life. So don’t tell me I’m not sad, Danica.”

I press my lips together, hard. I hadn’t thought of it like that.

“And I understand why you were mad.” Edmund stands up, stalking toward me across my dimly lit bedroom. “I get it. But you shouted at him, and you wouldn’t listen when he tried to explain.”

“So him being gone is my fault?”

He stops mere inches from me. “Yes.”

The accusation is a blow. I know he’s right, because it’s the same thing I’ve been telling myself for the past four days.

“Yes and no,” Edmund continues. “It’s just as much my fault.”

I can barely hear him. All I can think of is the same thing that’s been running through my head for days—how I yelled at Troy to get out, how I told him I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to listen to his excuses.

“Hey.” Edmund tilts my chin so I’m looking up at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it’s your fault.”

“It is, though.” And it hurts . I miss him so much it hurts, and it hurts that it’s my fault.

“It’s just as much my fault as it is yours. I’ve been an asshole the past couple of weeks, pushing him to the side. I thought it would be better if he was less involved.”

“Better for what? Why?” I frown because one, it’s unlike Edmund to open up like this, and two, I didn’t realize he was pushing Troy to the side. I’d sensed tension between them. I even thought I could be the cause. But Edmund, pushing Troy away?

“It’s stupid. I thought if you and I were married, that it should just be you and me. Not Troy.”

I inhale sharply and take a step back from him. “And you didn’t think to ask what I thought of that idea?”

“I had it in my head it would be good for us both.”

“Why—why would you think that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, I was being stupid. And by the time I got my head out of my ass, it was too late, I guess. Fuck. I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you both.” He leans forward until his forehead presses against mine.

It’s strangely intimate, and strangely right. Our faces close together. Our breaths mingling.

I lift my hands to touch his wide shoulders. The muscles on this guy. Heck. He’s beautiful.

My face tilts toward his at the same time his moves toward mine. Soon, we’re kissing. He tastes like cinnamon, so I part my lips. I want more of him, I want all of him.

He fists the back of my t-shirt, lifting it.

I pull back.

“Sorry, sorry.” He lets go of my shirt.

“No.” I clear my throat. “I—I want you. It’s just…”

He waits, his eyes locked on mine.

“It’s just I don’t deserve this. Not after I yelled at Troy.”

“Ah.” A slow smile grows on his face. “Maybe you need to be punished.”

“I— what ?”

“I think you know what I mean.”

I do. And I’m both ashamed and aroused by the thrill of lust that moves through me.

Still, I hesitate. “I’m not—I’m not really sure about punishment.”

“Aren’t you?”

I bite my lip. He “punished” me that one time in my granddad’s kitchen, but that was more frustrating than anything else.

He took me to the edge of orgasm, then walked away.

Right now, I get the idea he’s talking about something more intense.

We won’t be limited by other people. It’s just the two of us here. “I haven’t done much of that.”

“I have.” He says it easily, like it’s a boring fact about how fast cheetahs run, or what he ate for lunch today. His head tilts to the side as he considers me. “Do you want me to show you?”