The One who got Away - Page 224

“Bullshit,” Heath said. “You know, sometimes I get the feeling you think I’m a complete idiot.”

“Why?” I asked. “Because Garth didn’t tell you about all this? You know him better than anyone. How was this going to be believable if we continued seeing each other?”

“Okay, now you’re just blabbering a bunch of nonsense,” Heath said. “If this was some great plan, then why are you tied up over there?”

“You said it yourself, too many people,” I replied. “Garth doesn’t know who to trust anymore. We staged the whole kidnapping.”

Heath shook his head, but I could already see that he was starting to doubt his own logic. “That’s bull. He would have told me.”

“Actually, he wanted to,” I said. “I convinced him not to. For this to work, everyone had to be kept in the dark, even you.”

Heath ran a hand across his face and scratched the back of his head. He stood up and began to pace back and forth. He shook his head and waved a finger at me.

“See, there you go, playing with me again,” he said. “Garth would never agree to that.”

“It’s perfect, and you know it,” I said. “You just don’t want to believe it because you never thought he’d keep you in the dark about anything. Garth is always going to look out for number one, and that number one is him. He’ll toss anyone aside if it works in his favor.”

“And what’s going to stop him from tossing you to the curb?”

“Nothing,” I said. “That’s why I’m telling you to take me with you. You have his contacts right there in your hands. Every name and number he’s ever needed to build his little empire. All I ask is you take me with you.”

Heath eyed me for what seemed like forever, and I knew I had gotten to him. When you broke him down to his core, all Heath really wanted was power and recognition, both of which Garth was barely giving him. All I needed was a little push to get him to turn on Garth completely.

I adjusted myself on the couch, letting my feet fall to the floor, and opened my legs wide.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on, Heath,” I tried my best to smile seductively. “Don’t tell me you weren’t just a little curious about what made Garth bend over backwards for me?”

His eyes rested on my crotch, and I pushed my chest out towards him. “Take me with you,” I whispered, “and I promise you, you’ll get a lot more than just a journal.”

“Prove it.”

The request took me by surprise, and for a brief second, my composure faltered. “Excuse me?”

“Prove it,” he repeated. “You say you want out. You say you want me to take you with me, that you’d give me all of that.” He gestured with his hand at me. “Prove it.”

I tried to control the shaking in my voice, and faked a smile. “What do you want me to do?”

He walked towards me, dropped the journal on the couch, and leaned in. “Give me a preview,” he said.

He reached down with one hand and cupped me between my legs, pressing the heel of his hand against my crotch. I fought back the gag that threatened to escape my mouth and the bile that rushed up my throat. Play along, dammit! Play along.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart,” I whispered, hating myself for what I was doing.

He cupped one of my breasts and squeezed painfully, but I was quick to hide my discomfort and even pushed my hips forward against his hand. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down, giving himself room to slide his fingers into my panties. I shuddered with disgust as he touched me, the reflex working to my advantage as he smiled.

“You like that, huh?”

I nodded, biting my lip and trying to look as turned as I possibly could without headbutting him in the face. “Untie my hands and pull down your pants,” I said. “I think I might just know how to be a little more convincing.”

Heath hesitated for only a second before pulling a switchblade out of his pocket and reaching around me. I heard the blade snap open, and with a few tugs, my hands were finally free. Heath stood up, replaced the knife in his pocket, and quickly began unbuckling his pants. I gave him my best smile as he tugged and pulled at his pants, and even went as far as helping him pull them down.

Gunshots echoed through the night sky, startling us both. Heath’s head snapped up, his eyes squinting to see what was happening across the street, and I used the momentary distraction to my advantage. I gathered my strength, used every ounce of anger I had to fuel it, and punched him in the crotch.

Heath cried out in pain, his knees buckling as he collapsed onto the floor. I jumped up and raced past him. He curled up in a fetal position, his hands holding his crotch, and called after me. “You fucking bitch!”

I raced to the front door, skidding as I stopped and tried to pull it open. It was locked. I looked for the key on the table next to the door, my hands shaking, Heath’s cries of pain piercing through my ears like sirens.

Tags: Mia Ford Romance
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