Page 83 of Intent to Kill
“Christ,” Antonio said, but his eyes widened when he saw Dorian huffing and puffing on the spot, nearing a nervous breakdown. He hadn’t felt this violent kind of certainty in himself since he had killed all his brothers so many years ago.
“Come in close,” Dorian barked at his Seconds. “Somebody—I don’t fuckingcarewhich one of you—somebody needs to go and dig up a grave right now. I want to see a fucking skeleton.”
Though... he didn’t expect to find one at all.
15
DIG ‘EM UP
APRIL 1991
“Hey, baby,” Adam said, poking his head through the open window into Mercedes’s bedroom once again.
“You havegotto stop doing that,” she said, startling where she stood at the dresser and knocking her perfumes over in surprise.
He helped himself inside, watching her as she collected the wayward perfumes into her arms. She scowled like she was annoyed, but the window was always open when he came by, and he was sure that wasn’t a coincidence.
“Going somewhere?” Adam sat down at the edge of the bed where a half-packed suitcase laid open, surrounded by neat little piles of clothes, all of them hers.
“Just a last-minute trip,” she explained, scurrying around the room with her diamond watch jiggling as she fluffed items inside. “Dorian is headed upstate to make some deal, wants me to go with him.”
“Right,” Adam said, a sting eating his chest. “You’re going, though?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, continuing to ignore him in favor of packing.
Why wouldn’t she?! Several reasons... but none of which he could possibly bring up.
Adam shrugged in response and laid down on the bed, though his tense shoulders strained at the motion.
“It’s a good opportunity to get back into his office and return the white book,” she said. “Once you’re done with it, of course. Dorian and all the Seconds are going, so there’ll be no one here to burst in on you.”
Moving over him, she slapped him playfully on the arm, shoving him to sit up. He smirked when he noticed he’d laid against and disrupted all her piles.
“Sorry.” He wasn’t sorry. “How long will you be gone for?”
“Just the weekend, one or two days.”
One or two days. May as well be a lifetime.
He stroked the soft silk sheets of her bed, a horrible thought about what she and Blake did on that bed assaulting his mind. And then he was blurting out something that he hadn’t meant to ask, but that nit-picked at his brain like a little bug. “What’s December 7, 1986?” The date code that had finally popped Blake’s safe.
She didn’t answer right away, but he could see her jaw straining, as if she were trying to control her reaction. “It’s not important.”
“You can tell me,” he said. Why couldn’t he let this go? Did he really want to know?!Yes.
“You don’t want to know.” She slammed her dresser shut, fiercely avoiding Adam’s eye. Then it occurred to him to wonder who the answer would hurt more. Him or her.
“I do want to know. Please.”
Mercedes brushed her hair away and planted her hands on her hips. Her face contorted and rolled, the mask of her pretense slipping. “Fine, if you must—it was the first night Dorian and I, you know, it was when we got together, or whatever.” She flicked away the words with her hands like she could push them out of her life.
Hearing it out loud made him feel so sick he felt he would rather eat glass. Though... he was sure that was what he was going to hear when he asked. Deep down, he knew. But why he needed to hear it said out loud? God knows.
He steadied himself on her bed, his arms behind him the only thing keeping him upright. “Blake remembers that date? He’s a better man than I thought.”
She shook her head. “No.” Her face scrunched. “No. It’s not aboutthat. Victory day… it was the day that he finally...wonme. After years of chasing. December 7, 1986, he finally took what he wanted.”
Mercedes took in a deep breath and went back to packing, though she only seemed to be rearranging the same three piles in sequence. Whispering over her shoulder, she said, “We both knew he would, eventually. He wanted me. He was always going to have me whether I liked it or not.”
