The Bandit (The Stolen Duet 1)

When he lifted his head, I chased and was mortified when I heard, “So you like to take amorous liberties with your enemies?”

Z moved away leaving Angel in my line of sight once again.

And then the final blow was dealt.

There were no kisses to distract me. I could only concentrate on the pain.

I’d never been beaten—not even by my parents. My mom had preferred talking, and my dad would never raise his hand to me no matter how many times he said I deserved some time over his knee.

“Are you ready to talk?”

My answer was to cry harder. My dignity hadn’t returned after I was untied and no longer bent over. I was still very much naked while they were fully dressed. I wanted revenge. I wanted my pride back. But then I reminded myself, it had been three years since I’d seen Angel Knight, and in just a couple of hours, I’ve been trapped, stripped, and beaten.

Maybe my battle with three powerful men could rest for one night.

“It wasn’t rhetorical, Sprite.”

I kept my gaze on the floor and nodded. His friends moved for the door, and I almost asked them to stay. Angel and I hadn’t been left alone since the summer before my father killed his.

“Where are my clothes?” He still sat upon his throne, making the room seem smaller, and my nakedness more apparent.

“Burned. You won’t be needing them.”

“I don’t have your stupid book so let us go.”

“You expect me to believe that you broke into my father’s home for a watch?”

“I didn’t know it was your father’s,” I lied. “That’s not the same house.”

“Lucky coincidence then,” he snarled sarcastically. “My father had the house built when business picked up.”

“So then you know there’s no way I would know the place I was robbing belonged to your dead father.”

His eyes darkened, and his body tightened. “Careful, Mian.”

As much as I hated him, I regretted my harsh words. I hated any reminder that my mother was dead. I nodded, and he seemed to relax.

“Tell me what you know,” he ordered.

“I don’t know anything.”

“Then tell me what you don’t know.” The bite in his tone sent a warning chill down my spine. It seems Angel’s composure wasn’t as airtight as he wanted me to think.

Mycontrol, however, snapped. “What Idon’tknow is anything about this book you’re after. What Idon’tknow is why you think I’d want your stupid book. What I don’t know,” I added smoothly this time, “is why you insist on keeping my son and me here. And what I really don’t know is how you’ve managed to become an even bigger ass than when I actually knew you.”

“You never knew me, Sprite.” His whisper almost sounded like regret, but his eyes were angry.

“Apparently, not,” I whispered back. Could he hear my sorrow?

“Why am I supposed to believe you? You broke into a house intending to steal something that didn’t belong to you.”

“Wrong. It belonged to my father which meant it belonged to me.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know whose house it was?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “And Ithoughtyou said your father didn’t know about your little job.”

I had been caught in a trap with my back against the corner.

My father never wanted me to be a part of his world, and if mama hadn't died, I never would have. But Angel wouldn’t know that. He was too busy hating my relationship with my father to understand it.

“He didn’t.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m counting your lies, Mian, and I intend to pay you back for each of them.”

I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think about the repercussions. I just exploded. “I haven’t spoken to my father since he lost his trial!” It wasn’t the truth anymore so I channeled the pain and anger built up over two years. If I wasn’t threatened with homelessness, my father’s abandonment would still be true.

“What?”

I saw the tick in his jaw, and when I couldn’t look at him anymore, I fixed my gaze on the floor and spoke to it. “I have not,” I said slowly, “heard my father’s voice since they dragged him away.”

Even though it wasn’t true I still missed him so much. I knew it was the last thing Angel would want to hear. I just needed him to believe it.

I heard him move and the sound drew my gaze to him. He was sitting back, watching me intently. “Why?” Instead of answering, I tried to figure out why his voice was almost tender. “Mian,” he snapped, breaking that tenderness.

“He won’t take my calls or let me visit.”

“Coward.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your father is a coward.”

“He’s trying to protect me. He wants better for me.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “I knew you were spoiled, but I never pegged you for dumb,” he scoffed. He looked me up and down with his top lip slightly curled. “He’s trying to avoid you, Mian. He wants to cut his losses to make his time easier without having to look in your face every Sunday and feel guilty.”