“You really think Waylon can protect you?”
“He has power—that’s as much protection as I can expect from a man.”
At least that’s the truth.
“What did you do on your first date?”
Liesel adjusts herself in the tub, and I get a glimmer of cleavage as she lifts slightly out of the water. My cock throbs at the sight.
“The usual drinks at a bar and then dinner at a nice Italian restaurant.”
“Was it love at first sight?”
She laughs as she sinks back into the water. “He ordered my drink and meal for me. What do you think?”
“I think you castrated him right then and there.” I smile just imagining what Liesel would do if a man tried to control her like that. But then how did she end up married to the ass?
“I ordered the most expensive champagne on the menu, and then I threw it at him.”
“Not scotch?”
She scoffs. “Would I ever waste scotch?”
My smile grows to my eyes. I haven’t smiled this big in a long time. It almost feels like we are kids teasing each other again—almost.
“No, I don’t imagine you ever would.”
Liesel smiles so openly I can see every one of her white teeth. It makes me almost not want to ask her my next question, but I need to know.
“What happened next? How did you end up on a second date if the first date ended in such a disaster?”
Her smile immediately drops from her face, almost as if it was never there in the first place. She takes her time before she speaks, the movie of those events flashing before her eyes.
She’s trying to decide if she tells me the truth or if she tells me a lie.
“You lose two weeks from your life if you lie,” I warn.
“I was at a bar. A man sat down next to me and started up a conversation with me,” her voice is soft, and her bottom lip trembles as she speaks.
I hate this man, whoever he is instantly.
“The man seemed nice enough. He was a typical suit—nicely groomed, a banker with warm eyes. He was charming, and I was lonely and frustrated with my lack of a sex life, so we got a hotel room.”
Jesus, so many awful things happen to this woman. It’s like she’s a magnet for evil men.
“In the elevator on the way up, I started to get some bad vibes from him. I made a phone call and said I had to go…”
Her voice trails off as she looks down at her hands like she’s embarrassed.
“He was in the wrong, not you,” I say, trying to make her feel better before I realize that’s not my job.
The corner of her mouth lifts in gratitude for my words. “He forced me into the hotel room. Ripped my clothes. Tried to rape me.”
“Tried?” My heart stops.
“The call was to Waylon. He was the only person I could think of who might be close. He was an asshole, but I didn’t get the same vibes from Waylon as I did from Frank.”
“He rescued you?”
“Sort of. I was able to knee him in the balls and break free.”
I smile, knowing I was the one who taught her that move.
“Waylon was in the lobby by the time I made it down. He called the police. We went and got some greasy burger and fries from a dive next door. He made me laugh. He tried to protect me.”
She gave Waylon a second chance. Why could she never give me one?
I sigh.
“How did you and Phoenix meet?” Liesel asks.
“I picked her up at a club. She was the only woman, not on the dance floor, trying to get my attention.”
She smiles again, happy that I’m talking.
“I fucked her in the dirty bathroom. It was the hottest sex of my life. Nine months later, she had our first child.”
Liesel’s smile snaps off her face, replaced by a scowl. “Liar.”
I hear the hope in her voice. She doesn’t truly believe I’m lying, she just hopes I am. Whether she will ever admit it or not, she wants me. It hurts her to hear that I’m with another woman, especially one related to her.
I don’t care if she believes me or not. What I care about is figuring out if she’s lying. I don’t think she is, but I also don’t think she’s telling the full truth.
“Do you trust Waylon?”
“Not going to ask if I love him?”
“I don’t care if you love him or not,” I lie. “I care if you trust him.”
“He’s my husband.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’ve already answered my question for tonight,” she says, dodging the question.
Interesting.
“Last chance to tell me why, Liesel. I’m done asking. This is your last chance to save your life. Just give me one good reason for what you did and this can all be over. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. You’ll never hear from me or see me again. Just tell me why,” I say.
I’m so completely desperate. I need this answer more than I need anything else. I would trade all of her truths for this one single bit of information. I’ll give her up; I just need to know why. I need to know why she did the cruelest thing that anyone in our group has ever done. We all work for a criminal organization; we’ve done some fucked up shit, but nothing like what Liesel did.
“Why?” I repeat.
She blinks; it’s the only clue I have that she even heard me. She looks right at me, finding the camera. “I have no clue what you are talking about. Maybe if you’d ask me an actual question, I would answer you.”
I run my hand through my hair in frustration. I need to know, but her refusing means I get to keep her. I get to kill her for her sins once I get all my answers. And I still plan on getting this answer from her, no matter how long it takes.
“Ten months,” I say, letting her know how much time she has left, and then I end the call.
7
Liesel
I should be listening to Waylon’s speech, but all I can think about are Langston’s words last night.
I’ve done a lot of horrible things in my life, but I have no clue which specific monstrous thing I did that Langston wants me to explain.
“With my beautiful, intelligent Liesel by my side, we will win the race for governor!” Waylon finishes his speech.
I smile brightly as he lifts my hand up, doing my part. I didn’t have a speech to give today, but I will at future events.
I’m glad we’ve started the campaign in earnest. Waylon thinks it will stop us from being attacked with the amount of visible security he hired, but it will only slow Langston’s kidnapping attempts.
Hand in hand we walk off stage, waving to the crowd and smiling so wide that my cheeks begin to hurt.
As soon as we are off stage, Waylon is swarmed by his team of people.
“I need you to look over the prenup and sign it ASAP,” Nolan, his campaign manager, says to me as he thrusts some papers into my hands.
I sigh but take the papers.
Nolan is closer to my age than Waylon’s. I have never seen the man not in a suit. His blonde hair swooshes over his head in a perfect wave, and his blue eyes pop with brilliance.
I haven’t decided yet if I trust him or not.
“I already told you, the prenup isn’t the problem,” I say as I make a show of signing the damn prenup.