the fucking truth, Bianca,” Jack seethes. There’s no warmth in his voice. No affection. It reminds me of my father’s and only terrifies me more.
I keep my attention glued to the hole punched in the wall as my chest rises and falls in short pants. I can’t breathe. I can’t do this. He can’t know.
Like a lion, Jack stalks closer. I can feel his fury radiating off him with every step, but I can’t look at him. I can’t witness the disgust that I know will be in his eyes. I just…can’t.
His hand slams against the wall next to my head, making me flinch and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Tell me the truth, Bianca.” His tone is quieter but is laced with the same animosity from moments before. “I need to hear it right now.”
The wall behind my head makes my hair tangle as I shake my head back and forth. “I can’t.”
“How long were you fucking Reed?”
Reed?
Faceless men are one thing, but how can he know about Reed?
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “I––”
“Tell me.” A bit more of the animosity seeps out of his voice to reveal Jack. The real Jack. My Jack.
“I didn’t know Reed was the one that framed you,” I whisper.
“Were you a couple? Did you just like to fuck him on the weekends? Was he better than me? Tell me.”
A couple? What’s going on?
I feel like the room is spinning. I can’t focus. I can’t concentrate. I can’t––
He slams his hand against the wall. “Answer me, Bianca.”
“I didn’t like to have sex with him. He was mean. Controlling.”
His breath brushes against my cheek as he scoffs. “You didn’t like to fuck him? Bullshit, Bianca. I saw the photos. You looked pretty fucking happy when he had you bent over his desk and he screwed you from behind.”
Trembling, I squeeze my eyes shut as another shameful tear slips down my cheek.
“And the coke? How long have you been doing that? Huh? You been hiding that too?”
“I don’t do coke––”
“I saw––”
“I know what you saw,” I whisper. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Fine.” He pushes himself off the wall and stalks toward the bed before sitting on the edge of it. His fingers dig into his thighs with bruising force, and his face is red with fury. I’ve never seen him like this. So menacing. So angry. So hurt.
“Finish,” he barks.
My breathing is ragged as I resist the fight or flight instinct that is wreaking havoc on my self-preservation. What the hell am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to tell him? Reed is one thing. I could lie. I could tell him that Reed was just a fling. That I didn’t know he was connected to the FBI. That he was one of Burlone’s friends. All of which is true. I could keep the majority of my skeletons tucked away. Because if this is how Jack reacts to Reed, there’s no way he’ll love me when he finds out about the rest of them.
Love.
The thought makes me pause. I’ve never loved anyone before. Except my mother. I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who ever loved me too. It’s funny what love is. How it can be unconditional. Without malice. Without expectations. Pure. I got a taste of it with Jack. A hint of the future we could build with it. But my skeletons won’t stay locked away forever. And even if they did, I’d live the rest of my life terrified that they’d come to light, and I’m not sure how long I could keep them at bay.
“Answer the question, Bianca,” he pushes.
“I never liked having sex with Reed.”
Another scoff, but I ignore it, and pierce him with my stare.
“I didn’t. And I never did coke on my own time.”
His brows pinch as he registers my word choice.
“I don’t like coke. It makes me feel…out of control. But when a client pays for your time, you do whatever they want you to do. Whether it’s drugs, or sucking a dick, or bending over a desk and moaning like it’s the greatest feeling in the world when all you want to do is run away and take a shower, you do it. Because that’s what brings a client back. And that’s what pays the bills.”
As if he’s been sucker punched, Jack rolls back onto the mattress, staring up at me like I’m a ghost. A hideous ghost.
“Tell me you’re lying,” he chokes out.
I shake