Page 43

“Tell me your story, Ava.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not perfect either, Ava. I’ve done awful things. You can open up to me, and I won’t judge.” My head sinks too deeply in the pillow, and I readjust. “I want to know how a girl from a middle-class family in a top twenty-five university ended up addicted to heroin.”

“Someone’s done some research.” She smiles at me.

And god, I want to kiss her, but my need to understand is greater than anything physical.

Her smile disappears and her eyes glaze over.

“I wish I could say that someone other than me is responsible. Or, you know, sometimes you meet people who were abused or had shitty childhoods or something where you just totally get why they needed an escape. But that wasn’t me.

” Her long eyelashes flutter once, twice, and then her lips curl ever so slightly.

It’s a sad expression, but the kind of sad that has worn its place into her soul and she’s adjusted to it.

She’s moved on. What she’s sharing is something she has accepted.

“No, my motto was ‘born to be wild.’ Rage against the machine. Try it all. Live and let die. My friends…the ones I clung to freshman year… they were similar. I didn’t really set out to try heroin, but the first time they offered it, I was some combination of drunk and stoned.

I figured sure. Why not?” This time, when those eyes look up at me, they are glassy, and her bottom lip quivers. “I did awful things.”

“Me too.”

Her head tilts, and it’s clear she doesn’t understand. But whatever she has done, it’s not as bad as what I’ve done. What I do. What I will do. Maybe that’s the answer. My inexplicable attraction to her. She and I have both made regrettable choices.

“Your uncle loves you. Whatever choices you made, he still loves you.”

“Does your family?”

The slow shake of her head combined with the way her upper teeth sink into her lower lip tell me all I need to know.

“Patrick is my family now. And, well, I suppose your uncle is my extended family.”

Uncle Mark and Patrick. Secret lovers. “Patrick is Uncle Mark’s partner…or boyfriend.”

“You know?” she asks.

I smile at her surprise.

“Pieced it together recently. Patrick was an addict too?”

“He was. Your uncle saved us both. Paid for our rehab.”

And given what my uncle told me about Ava, that’s probably one reason he keeps Patrick a secret. What won’t look good for the CEO of a company doesn’t look good for the chairman of the board either.

“Did you ever do fentanyl?”

“No. Back then, it wasn’t common. Good thing, because I probably would have died. Why?”

“Just curious. Do you come in contact with many fentanyl addicts?”

Her brow wrinkles in thought. “Not too many. But, you understand, fentanyl can be laced in anything. Heroin, for example. It’s scary because it’s so easy to overdose. Why?” She reaches out and touches my arm. “I don’t think Sophia–”

“I know. It’s something else.”

“Something else you’re working on?”

I want to tell her everything. Explain what’s going on. The secrets we keep weigh heavily. Hell, mine destroyed my marriage. And why? For what purpose? I let out a sigh and rub my eyes.

“What awful things have you done?”

I open my eyes and study the woman inches from me.

“They can’t be nearly as awful as you think, Jack. Getting it off your chest, sharing with someone who you know has done worse, who won’t judge, as you said, can be a relief. Whatever it is still haunts you.”

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. “If I tell you, it could put you in danger.” It’s why I never told Cassie. I just never realized what conclusions she would draw on her own. The human imagination, when crossed with insecurity, can do significant damage.

“I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.” The tips of her fingers caress the stubble along my jaw, and I lean into her touch. “Getting it off your chest helps in ways you can’t even imagine. I promise, you will get no judgment from me.”

Is that the real reason I never told my wife? Because I feared her judgment? Maybe so. She hated violence. She wouldn’t have understood.

I let out a sigh and throw caution aside.

“I’m not active in the group now, but when I was younger, in my late twenties and early thirties, I did things.

For an organization.” There’s no need to tell her who.

“I was perfect for the role. An American businessman from a prominent family. Well known in any country I entered. But I’m also a skilled sniper. Among the best.”

“Did you do it for money?”

I look into eyes completely free of judgment, but she blinks and it’s almost as if she’s scolding herself. “I mean, sorry. How did it make you feel?”

If visions of my victims didn’t weigh me down, I’d laugh at her attempting to play therapist. “I did it for our country. I took out dangerous individuals. People who could do great harm.” Or so I was told. God, I hope the intel was accurate.

“I should have never asked if you did it for money. You don’t need money, and you wouldn’t kill for it.

You are too good of a man. That’s why it weighs so heavily on you.

You are a good person. And even if someone told you it needed to be done, those deaths weigh on you.

I’m glad you told me. You shouldn’t have to shoulder that alone.

And it doesn’t make you less of a man. You are still a good person. ”

My eyes burn, and I close them. My chest burns and my throat clenches.

“I lied to Cassandra. About what I was doing. Sometimes. That’s how she…

why she decided I was cheating. I’d go on extended trips.

Traveled all the time. I could have told her the truth, but I didn’t.

Maybe I didn’t trust her to forgive me.”

“She loved you. She would have still loved you, had she known.”

“No.” I shake my head. “She loved peace. She didn’t want…” She didn’t even let me have guns in the house. The CEO of a gun manufacturer didn’t have guns in his house. “Every time there was a mass shooting, she would ask me if my guns were used.”

“That’s not fair. You can’t be held responsible for what someone does with your product.”

“Legally, that’s true. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t weigh on me. Sad thing is, it weighed on me more when I first started in this industry. Now, I hear about a mass shooting, and I just…” What do I do? Wait to see if I get an alert from our PR department.

“You are a beautiful person with a beautiful heart. A heart so big and so full that you care for everyone in your life. You protect them and love them in all the ways you know how. And your family business is something you were born into. Cassandra might not have liked it, but she had to have understood. I think you could have told her everything, and she would have still loved you. You’re a difficult man not to love. ”

I press my lips to the top of her hand, directly above all her stacked bracelets.

She’s the one with a strong, gorgeous heart.

I’ve treated her like a prostitute, and yet she’s cared for my daughter and is lying here caring for me.

I held money over her head for sex and admitted I am a killer, and those enormous eyes are filled with warm emotion.

“You of all people should hate me.”

“No. I don’t. And I also don’t believe in ‘shoulds’ and emotions. Emotions do not depend on logic. Emotions come from within, and our task is to understand them. I promise you, there is no hate in my heart.” Her tongue licks her lower lip, and the moonlight reflects on watery eyes. “Not for you.”

She scoots closer to me, and her fingers travel down my chest. Her light touch awakens every fiber, and as she travels lower, I warn, “Ava. You’re injured.”

“I’m not that injured.” She dips below my waistband, and I tip my head back, swallowing a moan as her fingers wrap around my erection.

“Lie on your back,” she whispers.

I do as she asks, and she gets onto her knees and tugs on my pajama pants, moving the comforter down as she removes my clothes.

We shouldn’t be doing this, but her tongue licks up my shaft and circles my tip.

Those big, dark eyes watch me closely as her mouth takes me.

It’s so fucking erotic I almost lose control right there. The warmth, the suction, the intimacy.

Her mouth eradicates thought. Her sensual tongue renders bliss. But my principles fight for the forefront. I should give her this. I should worship her.

“Get on your back,” I force out. “Let me do this for you.”

With a pop, her mouth abandons my strained erection.

Her swollen lips glisten as she rises and lifts the hem of her nightgown over her head.

The pale skin on her full breasts glows in the moonlight.

Mesmerized, I watch as she positions her core over me, sandwiching my cock between her folds, and glides back and forth.

It’s the sexiest movement I’ve ever seen in my life.

She pauses and reaches between us, positioning my tip just right, and ever so slowly, she takes me. Careful not to hurt her, I let her lead, let her sink down over me.

“God, you feel good, Ava. So good.”

The tips of her fingers press against my chest. Her head tips back. Emotions overflow. I want this. I want her. Every day. Every night.

Her hips undulate, and she angles her body, positioning herself so with each thrust of her hips, my pelvis rubs her sensitive spot. She uses my body like she would a toy. And I will always let her use me. Any way she wants.

I am hers.