Page 78 of Make Me

Page List


Font:  

I make myself an iced latte with the espresso machine, my long night dragging on my bones, before finding a bikini in the stuff Stella brought over for me.

I slip it on and give a twirl in the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet. My stomach clenches at the small, purple marks dotting my skin. Cash’s hands on me—even when he isn’t here. My stomach spills, soft and pleasingly, under the high sides of my swimsuit, making my hip creases the focus. I look good and can’t help but think of all the filthy things Cash would say if he came home right now.

The back of the bikini bottoms can hardly be considered more than a thong, my dimpled cheeks round and full. I give them a wiggle in the mirror.Yeah, he’s one lucky son of a bitch.

I use the bathroom before heading out to the pool. When I wash my hands, I hear the distinctive sound of dripping water pattering in the cabinet below the sink. I’m no expert plumber, but I know what a leaky pipe sounds like.

I grab a hand towel off the ring and squat down to see if it’s something I can fix myself. When I open the cabinet, sure enough there’s water dribbling down from where two pipes connect with a slip joint nut. Luckily, it just seems it’s a little loose, and when I test the faucet again after tightening it, it drains properly.

There’s a few random toiletries at the bottom of the cabinet, and I quickly dry them off, throwing the towel down on the cabinet floor to wipe it clean. As I’m rubbing it dry, the towel catches on an edge, and when I tug it, I realize there’s a panel cut out of the cabinet bottom.

Curious about this little hidey-hole I’ve stumbled upon, I lift the square of plywood, expecting to find dust bunnies or lost Q-tips. Instead there’s a small coil of gold chain.2

I pull out a dainty gold necklace, and I feel like I’m going to faint. Or at the very least, I have officially lost my mind.

I stare at the chain, my pulse hammering, convincing myself that this is real and not a terrible, twisted dream.

Violent nausea churns in my stomach as I spread out the necklace, a single word formed in the center:

Beauty.

3I think about calling Leo. I do.

But then I think about what Cash said this morning, how smug and certain he was that his lawyers would get his brother off whatever he was charged with. I think about the arrogant way he laughed when he told me about Leo being a sore loser, never being able to pin anything on him. Even the crass joke he made as he left my apartment.

Cash Fox arguably commits the most and the worst crimes in June Harbor, and yet, he’s never been behind bars. In fact, he’s committed his whole life on his father’s grave to never getting locked up.

So, sure, I could call Leo and watch Cash weasel his way out of this.Again.I mean, if a goddamn tattoo the size of his hand isn’t enough to make the case, what good is a necklace? I’d love to see the way he’ll spin this. What lies will he say to my face, how dumb he must think I am.

My skin crawls thinking of the way he’s played me.Destroyed me.

So, yes, I think of calling Leo. But that’s not enough. I want to destroy him the way he’s destroyed me.

The way he’s taken everything light and beautiful and smothered the life out of it. The way he’s taken my love, my body, my goddamn soul, and sullied it, poisoned it.

I’m gonna rip his fucking heart out.

I hear him enter from where I’m sitting on his bed, still in my swimsuit, though I never made it to the pool.

“Harlow?” Hearing his voice feels like swallowing glass.

“In here,” I call back, slipping my mask into place as his footsteps draw closer.

“Hey, baby.” He smiles, and it’s physically painful to mirror his gesture. His gaze rakes my body, and he brushes his thumb over his lip. “Go swimming?”

“Never made it, took a nap instead.” His eyes on me make my skin crawl.

“Oh, good.” He untucks his shirt and starts on his buttons. “So you’ll be nice and rested to pick up where we left off this morning.”

My lip curls. “I’ve been waiting…daddy.” I don’t know what compels me because the thought of him touching me makes me nauseous. Maybe it’s desire to not show my hand, to play the stupid fool he so clearly thinks I am.

But as he steps out of his clothes and kneels onto the bed, a look of fucking adoration in his eyes, I realize what it is. He thinks he finally has me, that I finally love him the way he loves me.

So, I’ll fuck him. I’ll fuck him and kiss him and make him think he owns my heart, all the while planning his demise. The perfect payback, lie to him the way he’s lied to me. Give him the one thing he desperately wants, but it will be nothing more than a charade.

He sprawls out on his back, hands behind his head on the pillow. His cock stands like a mast. I climb over his hips and palm my breasts, and he watches me like a dog watches a piece of meat. “How did everything go with Lochlan?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He breaks my eye contact.


Tags: Summer O'Toole Romance