Edge (Parker Reed #2) - J.M. Walker Page 0,45

Patrick used them too. As long as they stay out of our room, I don’t care what they use.”

I laughed along with him and reached for the doorknob.

“Just because we can’t be alone doesn’t mean I still can’t control you. I know that it will excite you. Obeying me in front of everyone and no one will know,” he purred in my ear.

“Colin will know?” It wasn’t really a question but I also wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

“He will. So will Jones.”

I nodded. Made sense when they were both Doms as well.

“After you are done eating, you will look to me for your next instructions. Understand, angel?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He opened the door. “Now, let the training continue.” He kissed my cheek. “Slave.”

OME PEOPLE probably thought the term slave was degrading. Maybe even insulting. Like the term meant that the person was less than the lowest life form. I guess in some cases, it was. Depending on what the situation was, I would never want to be called it either but hearing the word leave Parker’s lips did something funny to my insides. My heart raced. My palms became sweaty. A tingle of heat spread over my skin. My muscles grew taught and my back straightened. I was proud that he called me it. I almost enjoyed it more than the term pet. But angel was still and will always be my favorite.

I knew when Parker called me slave it was used as a form of trust. A bond between the two of us that only grew stronger as each day passed. I gave him that part of myself, that part that had lain dormant for so long since having it ripped from me.

As I sat at the table, the sounds of banter between Greyson’s crew, the laughter from Patrick and Troy, and the gentle voices of Jones and Colin all flew around me. It was soothing. We all joined together with one goal in mind: to bring Devin Tate to justice. Although everyone that I was with wanted him dead, I would feel more at ease if he suffered. Call me sadistic, but I wanted him to hurt more than he had hurt me and who knows what else he had done to other people. I knew going in that it would be almost impossible to bring down everyone that worked for him.

A vibration erupted in my lap, making me jump, and I glanced down at the phone in my hand. My stomach sunk when Agent Cross’ name flashed across the small screen.

Parker noticed my reaction and cupped my nape. “Tell him where you are but don’t mention my name. He may know that I’m alive but I don’t want anyone knowing that you found me yet.”

“You found me, Parker,” I said softly.

He smiled. “And I will always find you. No matter what.” He turned to the group before us. “Quiet. For just a moment.”

They silenced almost immediately.

“Okay, angel. Put him on speaker phone.”

I took a breath and answered the call. “Hello, Agent Cross.”

“You are a hard person to get ahold of, Miss Price.” His gravelly voice vibrated through the phone.

“I’ve been busy. Staying with some friends for a little bit,” I replied, ringing my hands in my lap.

“Is Parker there with you?” Cross asked.

Parker shifted beside me and shook his head.

“No,” I answered. “He’s not.” The lies came easier and easier, I almost believed them myself.

“Now, Keely. When are you going to stop lying to me?”

I opened my mouth to reply when Greyson rose from his spot across from me. He held his finger to his lips and walked up to me, leaning on the table.

“Mr. Cross. I find it highly unprofessional for you to be badgering Keely.” Greyson’s voice was smooth like silk. His tone was that of a man with power with an underlining edge of contempt and control, bringing anyone to their knees.

“And you are?” Cross asked, his tone condescending.

“Greyson—”

“Ah. Greyson Mercer. President of The Hell’s Harlem. It’s a pleasure.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” Greyson bit out.

“What did you want, Cross?” I interjected. We had enough problems. We didn’t need the Feds all over us.

Agent Cross chuckled. “Always to the point. That man of yours taught you well.”

Parker growled and leaned down to my ear. “Ask him what he wants again,” he whispered. “Fucking guy needs to focus.”

“What do you want?” I repeated, squeezing Parker’s hand tight in mine. We already had an issue of jealousy over the agent since I flirted

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