Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,189

I wasn’t cheating on you, and you know it. Now let’s get this over with.” Urgency to free Grip, to clear his name, rides me. “Tell me what you want. I’m on my knees here. You want head? You want to fuck me in the ass? You want to invite a couple friends? I don’t care, just tell me you’ll clear his name and do it as soon as humanly possible.”

Though I have my doubts about Parker’s humanity.

“God, all that loyalty and fire. That was supposed to be mine, too.” Parker runs a finger down my cheek, smiling when I flinch. “You think I’ll make this simple for him? For you? No, he needs to be humiliated the way I was. Everyone has to know.”

A cesspool of dread stands in my belly.

“Just tell me what I have to do, and give me the assurances I need that you’ll get him out as soon possible.”

“So impatient.” He pushes my hair back from my face, his touch lingering at my neck with deceptive gentleness. “You and I leave for the Amalfi Coast tomorrow.”

“All right.” I have no idea why this is necessary, but I also can’t care anymore. I just need to get Grip free.

“We’ll fuck on my yacht, out on the upper deck.”

My acquiescence freezes on my lips, horror seeping slowly into every fiber of my body.

“The upper deck?”

“Yes, the same reporter who leaked the Vegas pictures is standing by.” His frigid smile is an icy warning. “The whole world will know that you may be with him, but you’re on vacation fucking me. More importantly, he’ll know.”

I don’t know if I can do it. For a moment, my will wavers.

"Do you think I've done my worst, Bristol?" Parker’s smile is a sutured curve, a jagged row of stitches stretching over a wound. "Oh, it could get worse for him. What if there's a body somewhere connected to these drug deals of his? What if his DNA can be matched to any number of crimes? He could be put away for life, if I try just a little harder."

I think of Grip behind bars, possibly for years, life in ruins because he loved me.

“So tomorrow?” I pull my dress up over my shoulders, forcing the words past the heart trapped and bleeding in my throat. "What time?"

“I’ll pick you up at two.”

“I’ll be ready.”

I start to get up from my knees, but he grabs my elbow and turns me back to face him.

“One more thing, Bristol.”

He jerks me into him, his mouth rough and cruel, and his teeth sharp on the tender swell of my bottom lip. My own blood rushes into my mouth. He flattens his hand to my chest, and my heart tattoos fear into his palm. A smile slashes his face before he snatches the chain from my neck.

“You really should have let me buy you this necklace.”

Chapter 35

BRISTOL

“THE LAWYERS ARE WORKING on it, but we keep hitting a wall.” Rhyson shakes his head, dismay darkening his gray eyes to slate. “It’s the weekend, so that’s part of it, but these guys can usually break through anything. Even getting this private meeting room was near impossible, and usually a good bribe can pull that off easily. Some high ups must be monitoring your case really closely.”

He splits a careful glance between me and Grip, who faces us from the other side of the table, dressed in royal blue scrubs with “LA County Jail” emblazoned on the back. It’s incongruous. Awful and incongruous to see my brilliant poet in this garb. This man whose record is cleaner than mine when so many things where he grew up could have left smudges on him. That was the thing his mother was most proud of, and because of me, that’s gone.

Grip has been uncharacteristically quiet. Anger dulls the eyes usually lit with humor, intelligence. For me—desire, love.

“My mom’s coming?” he asks, not acknowledging Rhyson’s comment at all. “She knows to come here, right?”

Rhyson and I exchange a concerned look.

“Yeah, Gep made sure she knows we got this room. Did you hear me, Marlon?” Rhyson presses. “We keep running into walls, but we’re working on it.”

“Any idea what’s behind it all?” Grip asks the question of Rhyson, but his eyes rest on me. “Why I was set up in the first place?”

With a look, Rhyson and I silently agree to tell him.

“We think it may be Parker.” I clear my throat and drop my eyes to the imitation wood of the table.