Grip Trilogy Box Set

“Then let me help you.”

Chapter 38

BRISTOL

“WHERE ARE YOUR BAGS?” Lust and impatience and arrogance ménage in the glance Parker gives me. “Why aren’t you dressed? I thought I was very clear that I’m in a hurry.”

Parker stands in my living room, outfitted in power and his Gucci suit.

“I’ve decided against it.” I slump on the love seat, a study in lassitude, wearing distressed denim shorts and my Columbia T-shirt. “You go on without me.”

Violence flares in Parker’s eyes before he tamps it down. He’s one of those careful monsters who won’t show his true form until absolutely necessary.

“I’m sure Grip will be sorry to hear that.”

“So you do know his name.” I grin at him, crossing my legs. “He’ll be glad to know. I’ll make sure to tell him once he’s back home.”

“You seem to forget who holds the cards here.” Parker thins his already thin lips.

"I started thinking." I study my manicure before looking back to him. "Maybe I gave in too easily. It's a little cocaine. Grip has no previous convictions. We have the best lawyers. Why should I let a few dead ends stop us?"

"Do you have any idea how easy it was to have those drugs planted during your boyfriend's photo shoot?" Laughter lights his glassy blues. "And if you think I only have one judge in my pocket, you sorely underestimate me."

"Is that so?" I ask noncommittally.

At my lackluster response, frustration flares his nostrils, anger mottles his cheeks. The smug smile dissolves into petulant slackness. "Don't make me do it." His voice is practically a hiss. "I'll ruin him. Completely."

My heart tailspins behind my ribs at the certainty his words carry. He could do it. There's no doubt. I just watch him, knowing my stoic silence will provoke him. He feeds off fear, and I've turned over his plate. Even seeing his composure fraying, I'm unprepared when he grabs my arm and jerks me to my feet. He seizes my ass, pressing me into his erection.

"This is how I've felt every time we were in a room together for the last ten years.” He narrows his eyes. "I get what I want, and I'm finally going to fuck you again. I'm done waiting."

My mother didn't raise a fool, but I realize in this instant that I have been a fool. I allowed this man to deceive me.

"We didn't have sex." I lean into him, breathing the words over him. "You just said you've been waiting ten years, even though we supposedly slept together that night in Vegas."

That black hole in my memory always felt deeper and darker than a drunken lapse, and I just figured out why.

He blinks, mouth falling open. The prey fights back. He wasn't expecting that.

"You were so determined to get drunk that night." He shrugs. "Adding a little something to one of the Parks’ famous martinis was merely expeditious. You would have passed out anyway. I just helped you along, and you bought the story.”

I snatch my arm from his grasp, indignation rising in me as I recall my confusion, my frustration, my shame that morning.

"You should have fucked me while I was unconscious." I hurl the words at him. "That was your best shot.”

“Really?” He embeds slivers of glass in that one world. “We’ll see about that.”

He shoves me back onto the couch so hard my head bangs against the armrest, and for a second, the pain is celestial, inspiring stars in front my eyes.

He gathers my wrists above my head, one knee thrust between my legs. His face distorts, florid with his rage. Panic takes flight in my chest, flapping wildly around my heart.

“You thought you could give him what was mine?” The words are projectiles, the force behind them throwing spittle in my face. “Let him have you, fuck you and get away with it?”

He balls the collar of my T-shirt in his hands and jerks, ripping the shirt and exposing the wire taped to my bra. His shock-stretched eyes find mine beneath him.

"Should we add rape to the things you've already confessed to?"

He snatches the wire from my bra and crushes it under his foot. Without a backward glance he rushes across the room. As soon as he hauls the door open, he comes face to face with Greg.