Page 21 of Taken Enemy
Thank you. I’ll take that under advisement.
The fecker actually said that—like he was considering buying a diamond or a plot of land, or maybe a fucking cow.
And Da gave him one week—until next Sunday—to make up his mind.
I’m still shaking as I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I locked myself in here an hour ago. It took me seven minutes to shower. One to towel dry. Another to pull on the clothes I dragged in from the living room.
The rest of the time, I’ve spent replaying all of Da’s babble. He can talk the hind legs off a donkey but pare away all the extra words and one fact remains: Da would rather hire an outsider, a civilian, instead of letting his own daughter do the job.
Da knows I write code. Granny told him when she made him pay for university, for sending me over to Trinity College in Dublin. My father wasn’t a pushover either. He demandedprogress reports every year I was there. He knows my marks were excellent.
But never—not once—has he let me take a peek at the clan’s computer systems. He’s never asked for my help, not even when Mam clicked on that credit card scam and infected Da’s laptop with malware.
He’s willing to take my money, my Red Cap profits, to even out the clan’s books. But when it comes to protecting the Canton Crew’s computers, he’d rather pay Cole Feckin’ Wolf to do work I’m perfectly capable of doing. Fucking hell. Da probably plans to pay Wolf withmyRed Cap funds.
Maybe he thinks marrying me off is a way to get into Wolf’s deep pockets. Da’ll skim from my husband, even more than he takes from me. Plus he gets me out of his feckin’ house, clearing the way for Breagha to make agoodclan marriage.
I yank my shirt closed, doing up my buttons. And just like that, I’m hit by a flash of memory—me, takingoffmy clothes last night, like I was in a feckin’ doctor’s office. I was cold. Mechanical. At least on the outside.
Inside, I could barely breathe past the adrenaline melting my lungs. Iwantedto strip for Cole Wolf. Iwantedto know what he’d do with my body.
Now, I stare at my reflection, wondering what in the everlasting hell I was thinking. My fingertips return to the bruises on my right wrist. I can see where the knotted terry belt dug into a nest of tiny veins. It’s blue now. It’ll be purple by noon.
I bruise like an overripe peach.
And Iwantedthat. I melted for it. Cole Wolf made me feel more alive in one night than I have in all the rest of my life combined.
My cheeks flame, and I’d give anything for my favorite hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans. I don’t want to wear the clothes I shed last night like snakeskin.
I’ll take that under advisement.
Well, fuck you, Mr. Lone Wolf. Advise this.
I pull open the bathroom door so hard, it bounces against the marble-covered wall behind it. I come out ready to fight, but the bedroom is empty. Someone—Wolf. Who the fuck am I kidding?—pulled up the sheets and the duvet. I don’t see the terry ties from the robes. His leather belt either.
Another flash of memory, courtesy of Wolf hiding the evidence: Me, staked out on the bed like a spatchcocked chicken.Ten, I said, and I shattered.
Takethisunder advisement, arsehole.
I cross the living room like I’m anchoring a relay race in the Olympics. My fingers twitch as I stretch for the doorknob. I tell myself not to look left, not to look right, not to see Wolf standing by the table that’s covered with plates and bowls—fruit and eggs and bacon and toast—and a silver carafe that has to be coffee.
“Kate,” he says.
Another flash of fucking memory, because he said my name before he gave me water, his touch so gentle it made me want to cry.
He wouldn’t have needed to give me water if he hadn’t beaten my pussy with his belt.
He’s a feckin’ animal. A lunatic.
And I’m madder than he is, letting him do all that to me.
I’m halfway to the door before he says my name again. “Sit down,” he says. “Eat something. We have to talk.”
“What’s there to say?”
“I’m seriously considering your father’s offer.”
A bubble of disbelief bursts in my throat. “Why? You’re a fucking billionaire!”
