Brinley tilted her head, studying him with the fearless concentration only a three-year-old could manage. Her eyes wandered over the sharp lines of his face, the faded scar near his jaw, the dark suit he still hadn’t bothered to change out of, and finally the black pistol resting on the polished desk between them. None of it meant anything to her. To Brinley, he wasn’t the man everyone whispered about behind closed doors. He was simply a stranger who looked lonely.
She never got a straight answer. That was the thing Audrey learned fastest at the Mercer estate — there were no straight answers, only things you were allowed to notice and things you were expected to un-notice, fast, before they cost you something. The morning after the SUVs, she scrubbed the faint stain near the … Read more