Page 9 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Keeper

S he ran just like a little rabbit. Scared. So timid.

It’s the exact opposite of how I pictured whatever woman had been willing to marry Eric to be.

It could still be a ruse. Some kind of defense mechanism, maybe. She’d have to be a fucking idiot to not have any idea what he’s done.

What he does .

She just comes off so sickeningly innocent. The doe eyes, the nervous glances. The way her throat looks when I say something that makes her uncomfortable. She’s a tempting little ball of anxiety.

It’s a perfect act, I’ll give her that. Pretending to feel guilty about talking to me when she’s married. Like she has no idea what her husband is up to on his ”business trip .”

Although, if she’s really clueless, I’d have to feel pretty bad for her. Being married to a monster would be insane. And with a nervous little thing like her?

She looks like some dirty talk would make her gasp .

I should head back into the bar, see what Jesse is planning to do with this new boy toy.

The soccer player with large eyes and eyes only for my cousin.

Jesse looks smitten, which probably means he’s well onto his way to obsession.

Usually this happens with hobbies or one of our missions, not a person.

But my feet stay planted right where they are, and I lean back against the bricks of the bar.

I need a few minutes alone to try and let the chilled air calm me down, but it doesn’t seem to be helping me.

I guess I’m not done picturing all the ways I’ll defile that sweet, little face once I have it locked between my hands.

Ruining her in every way before I return her–used and filthy–to Eric’s fucking doorstep.