Black Listed (8 page)

Her brother's eyes widened. “Vandalism? What's going on, Annie?”

Sawyer snorted. “Annie? Cute.”

She ignored him and turned to her brother. “Someone broke into my condo yesterday and trashed it. It's no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Sawyer said from behind her. “They destroyed every piece of clothing and every book you owned. And don't forget about the ants.”

Horror crossed Asa's face. “Ants? They knew you don't like ants?”

“No one likes ants.”

But her especially. On her tenth birthday, her father had taken her and her brothers to a horse farm under the guise of giving them riding lessons. What she hadn't realized until later was that while she'd proudly ridden her first horse, he'd been conning the farm's owner out of ten thousand dollars. Unfortunately, when she finished her lesson, she found that her brothers had disappeared, and she'd run around the farm looking for them before stumbling face-first into a large sand hill. It didn't take more than thirty seconds before she was covered with ants.

Red ants that bit every part of her body until she was swollen and red.

To clean her off, her father had thrown her into a filthy pond, forgetting that she didn't know how to swim. She'd almost drowned before Asa had jumped in to save her.

Her brother moved closer to her, speaking low, as if he didn't want Sawyer to hear him. “You think it's one of your old marks?”

“You found me. Sawyer found me. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume someone else found me.”

Sawyer joined their little tête-à-tête, puffing out his chest and pointing at Asa. “Or maybe he's the one behind it.”

Asa clenched his hands into fists. “Do you really trust this guy?”

She threw up her hands in frustration. “I don't know who to trust right now. Maybe I shouldn't trust anyone.”

Her brother gave her a look that could only be interpreted as disappointment. “I'm sorry you feel that way, sis. But when you remember I'm the one who loves you unconditionally, give me a call.” He handed her a business card. “Here's my cell number. I'm staying at the hotel on Sheridan.” After giving her a quick kiss on her cheek, he tossed Sawyer a scowl and strode out the door.

Tapping her foot in irritation, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at Sawyer. She hadn't seen her brother in years, and he'd managed to run him off within only minutes of his arrival.

Checking out her office, he made a complete 360 before mirroring her stance.

He might be her lover and Master, but it was time she reminded him of her power. Holding his gaze, she threw back her shoulders and slowly stalked toward him. He smiled as if expecting her to pounce on him.

She stopped in front of him.

Returned his smile.

And punched him.

S
AWYER TOOK HER
anger like a champ. Of course it helped that there was no real power behind her sock to his arm. “I hope you got it out of your system, because you're not getting a second chance.”

Shame heated her cheeks. She shouldn't have taken her frustration out on him, even if he was acting like an ass. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

The fear of becoming her parents had always hovered on the edge of her mind. There wasn't a day that went by during which she didn't remember what it was like to curl into a ball as the rain of fists came down on her. She swore she'd never raise her hands in anger, and she'd broken the promise to herself.

“I wouldn't have let you do it if I wasn't okay with it. You obviously needed to let off some steam.”

She laughed, relieved he didn't hold her loss of composure against her. “You mind telling me why you acted like such a jerk in front of my brother?”

His expression turned serious. “Your brother is a reminder of how little I know about you.”

“That's not true.” She planted herself on the edge of her desk. “Believe it or not, you know me better than anyone else.”

He pursed his lips, and frown lines etched his forehead. “Well, that's just sad.”

She flashed him a sorry grin in agreement. “Sad but true.”

He joined her on the desk, and they both sat with their legs dangling as if they were on the edge of a pier. “I want to know more. I'm not asking you to tell me why you took the money and ran or where the money went, but tell me something I don't know. Let me see a glimpse of the real Annaliese.”

She paused, thinking long and hard about herself. What could she share with him?

There were no memories of Christmases spent opening presents under a tree decorated with twinkling lights. No memories of sleepovers at friends' houses or dates for the prom. No jobs working at the local fast food restaurant or spelling bees at school.

Her life had been about keeping her head down so no one noticed her and reported her to Child Protective Services. It had been about hiding food and change under her mattress so she didn't starve. When she'd gotten older, it had been about seducing men and women and making her father proud of her by pulling off a successful con.

Yeah, he didn't want to hear about that.

“My family moved around a lot when I was growing up,” she heard herself say. “By the time I was eighteen, I'd lived in every state but Alaska, Hawaii, and Utah.”

His eyes took on a playful glint. “I get Alaska and Hawaii, but why not Utah?”

She'd never asked, but only one reason made sense. “That's where my parents were from originally. I guess they didn't like it very much.”

“Where was your favorite place?” He settled a hand on her knee, his thumb brushing back and forth. It was such an innocent touch. And yet it was as intimate as if he was touching her between her thighs.

“Arizona,” she said automatically. It had nothing to do with the mountain views and the desert climate and everything to do with the fact she'd spent her time there with him. It was the only time in her life she'd ever known true happiness.

He stilled, it almost appearing as if he didn't even breathe. Then he squeezed her lower thigh, silently acknowledging the significance of her answer. “You and your brother seem close.”

Close? Asa was someone she no longer recognized—the best version of himself. He'd become a family man, one who sang in a goddamned church and probably said grace before eating a meal consisting of fresh-off-the-farm chicken and milk direct from a cow. While she had been hiding behind the mousy Lisa Smith persona, he'd gone and found himself a real life. No, she and her brother weren't close. Not anymore.

“Before an hour ago, I hadn't seen him in more than four years,” she said, her heart aching not only for everything she lost, but for every bit of pain she'd caused Asa.

Processing the information, he brushed his hand over his jaw. “Why not?”

She stared at the door, indecision warring within her. With her father dead, the threat to Sawyer's life decreased, but her brother Mitch was still a wild card. If he found her, would he try and carry out their father's original scheme so that she'd inherit Sawyer's fortune? Could he be responsible for trashing her condo? She itched to tell Sawyer why she'd left him. But once he learned about the terrible things she'd done, would he still look at her the same way? Or would he only see the criminal she'd been?

The black list wouldn't only condemn her father. In the wrong hands, the information written in that journal would land her and her brothers in prison—or even worse, in the hands of those who sought a different kind of revenge against them for the wrongs they'd committed. If it was only about her, she'd go to prison. But Asa had a family now. He'd changed. She'd already hurt him enough. She wouldn't be responsible for ruining what he'd worked so hard to build.

Her decision wasn't easy, but it was the only one she could make. “For the same reason I hadn't seen you in years. I can't talk about it.”

He blew out a breath that sounded like frustration, but to give him credit, he didn't push her. “You said your father was a bad man. What did you mean by that?”

A chill went down her spine as if her father's ghost had floated into the room. Even dead, he terrified her. She turned to Sawyer and caught his gaze, needing him to say the words she couldn't. “What do you think I mean?”

His jaw ticked. “He's the one who hurt you. The one you told me about the night we met.”

“Yes.”

He actually looked pained, his skin pale and his hands trembling. “Did he . . . ?”

“No,” she reassured him. It had never gotten that far. Although after her mother died, she had been frightened by the way he stared at her sometimes. Not like a father looked at his daughter but like a man looked at a woman. “But when he had a bad day—which was often—he'd use me as his punching bag.”

Sawyer swore softly under his breath. “And your mother?”

“You mean, did she come to my defense?” She shook her head, remembering. “When I was young, she'd dress me up and braid my hair. But by the time I turned seven, my mother grew bored of me like I was an old toy. She was never very motherly, but after that, the only time I got any attention from her was when she was hitting me.”

“Jesus, why didn't anyone report it?”

She lifted one shoulder. “I'm sure people did, but we moved around so much, no one could find us.” Noting the absolute horror written on Sawyer's face, she laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “It wasn't all bad. Asa and I were close. He took care of me when I didn't have anyone else.”

He pivoted his body toward her to tenderly cup her cheek. “Then I'm sorry for the way I treated him. I came in here and saw you holding his hand . . . I sensed your closeness. I got jealous.”

Her heart gave a painful squeeze. All Sawyer wanted was for her to let him in.

Why did he have to want the one thing she couldn't give him?

She seized the opportunity to change the subject. “Why did you come early? I told you I'd call you when I was ready to leave.”

His thumb skimmed across her bottom lip. “Would you believe I missed you?”

“Should I believe you?”

His eyes filled with mischief. “I was curious. I wanted to see where you spend most of your days. Not that I got to see much of your condo, especially since everything was destroyed, but other than the books, there didn't seem to be anything of you in it. I thought maybe I'd get a better glimpse into Annaliese Hunt here.”

She swept her gaze over her office, seeing it through his eyes. She'd purposely left the walls bare of artwork, telling herself she hadn't found the right ones yet. He was right. The space lacked any personal touches except for the shelf that held some of her most valuable books.

“But you're forgetting. Annaliese Hunt doesn't exist here,” she reminded him . . . and herself. “This office belongs to Lisa Smith.”

A tiny notch formed between his brows, and she ached to kiss it. “Is there a difference?”

Was there? If she chose a painting for her wall, would it reflect Lisa's taste or Annaliese's? Were they the same, or was Lisa merely a figment of everyone's imagination?

“I don't know,” she answered truthfully. “I'm doing something I love. Something that I created and built from the ground up. That's all me, whoever I am.”

“Your office is very neat and organized. But it's kind of sterile.”

She nodded. So was Lisa. On the other hand, Annaliese was passionate and wild. There was none of her in here or anywhere else in her life. But her inability to choose artwork that reflected her tastes wasn't the only reason for the lack of personality in her office. “I've always got one foot out the door. I never saw any sense in decorating when I might have to leave everything behind.”

At the reminder of her tendency to bolt, Sawyer's expression grew somber. His hands dropped away and he slipped off the desk, putting space she didn't want between them. “I started working my way down the list you gave me. Two of your old marks are dead from natural causes. A couple of them have been traveling on business by car, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that one of them made a detour to Michigan. I'll check their credit card statements to see if I can track their whereabouts.”

“Do you really think you'll be able to figure out who trashed my condo?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again. “I think I can at least eliminate some of the people on the long list of suspects.”

She didn't miss the tightness of his voice. “Does it bother you that I've conned that many people?”

He paused, staring at her intently. “No,” he finally said. “But it would be easier to understand if you just told me the truth.”

“Why can't you accept that I was a con artist and I conned you? Why does there have to be more to the story?”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “Because I know you loved me. I know you still love me. You want to be with me, but you're scared. And I'm going to put the pieces together, whether you tell me or not.”

That's what she was afraid of.

She pushed against his chest so she could see his eyes. “You said earlier that some sins were too dark to ever see the light of day. Why can't you accept that mine should stay buried where they belong?”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest. “Because I can't bear to think of you suffering. I want to make everything better for you.”

Circling her arms around his middle, she held him just as tightly. “Maybe I want to do the same for you. Are you willing to share with me why you're unwilling to walk away as CEO of Hayes Industries?”

He paused before his hands slipped away. “No.”

She didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed. “Then there's nothing else to discuss.”

Sawyer lumbered to the door, and when he turned around, it was as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. “Are you hungry? We could go to dinner before we go back to the suite.”

She stood. “If my condo is clean, I think it might be best if I went there tonight.” Her eyes locked on his. “Alone.”

He shook his head. “I disagree. The hotel is much safer for you right now.”

“And it has nothing to do with our agreement?”

“I didn't say that.”

She smiled. “You're infuriating, do you know that?”

“I do.” He eyed her desk. “You realize I have to punish you for hitting me, right?”

Oh.
Her jaw went slack, and her heart skipped a beat.
He wants to play.
“I thought you understood why I did it.”

“I do understand. But as your Dominant, it's my role to make sure you never make that mistake again.” He seemed to get taller as he stalked toward her. “Pull down your pants and bend over your desk.”

Thank goodness. She might not be able to give him the truth, but this she could do for him. “Yes, Master.”

As slowly as possible, she slid her pants down her thighs and laid herself out on her desk, pushing the papers out of the way.

He came up behind her and caressed her ass. “Don't bother counting.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, she waited impatiently for him to begin. She had a feeling he wouldn't go easy on her.

When his hand finally landed, it came down with such force, it slid her forward on the desk. Again and again, he peppered her ass with hard smacks of his hand. He alternated sides, making certain to hit both cheeks as well as her thighs. She squirmed, the pain quickly morphing into pleasure that made her moan.

She threw him a glance over her shoulder, teasing him. “Is that the worst you can do?”

His expression grew feral, and his hands went to his belt. “Maybe a few strikes with this will help you learn your lesson.”

She turned back around, a wide smile on her face. “Yes, Master.”

He struck her hard, the sound of it and the bite of the leather belt hitting her flesh intensifying her arousal. If he kept this up, she'd come.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he stopped. She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and a second later, he drove his cock into her pussy from behind. “Don't come until I tell you to.”

With every stroke, her clitoris bumped the desk. Breathing through her nose, she tried not to come. But she knew it was a lost cause.

After a long groan and a single jerk of his body, he ceased his thrusting. When he slipped from her pussy, she realized he'd come.

“Get dressed,” he said, moving away from her. She looked over her shoulder to witness him zipping up his pants.

“Wait,” she got up from the desk and twirled around. “What are you doing? You're going to leave me like this?”