The McCullagh Inn in Maine by Jen McLaughlin Page A

had always been one of his best weapons. His good looks. He used them well. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
    “I don’t care how you feel anymore.”
    “Tell me, have you been having fun, playing house with that man? What’s his name? Ah, yes, Agent Jeremy Holland.” When I stiffened, he locked eyes with me.
    Shit. He knew Jeremy’s name.
    “Don’t tell me you think I haven’t been watching you with him. Kissing him. Fucking him. Letting him take what’s mine.”
    I stepped forward, muscles tight, fists even tighter. The second I took a step toward him, someone grabbed me from behind by both arms. Of course. Richard was too much of a coward to take me on alone. “I’m not yours. I stopped being yours the second I realized you were nothing but a scared little boy, kowtowing to the cartel so they didn’t kill you. Tell me, did you agree to be their bitch before or after you took office? I’m dying to know.”
    “You little—” He lifted his hand threateningly, the backs of the knuckles facing me, and I flinched reflexively. Being backhanded hurt more than being punched with a closed fist, and he knew it. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the one with the power. I’m the one who controls them, not the other way around. Why do you think they’re here with me, hunting down you and everyone you ever loved?”
    I didn’t flinch. Just stared him in the eye. “Luckily for you, you never fell in that category.”
    He snorted. “You loved me. Did you get my flowers? I left the last ones on your bed as a reminder of who you belong to.”
    Knowing he’d been in my room made my stomach turn hard. “Yeah. I got them. And I threw them in the trash,” I said from between clenched teeth.
    Running his hand over his jaw, he eyed me, grinning like the calm maniac he was. “I admire your spunk. It’s a shame you had to try to kill me. You would have made an excellent wife. But now I have to kill you because if you’re not an asset, then you’re a liability.”
    “What makes you think my death will change anything? That I haven’t already given the feds everything?”
    “I have my ways.” He shrugged casually as he rolled up his shirtsleeves. He did it calmly and without emotion, even though we both knew what was coming. I’d found out firsthand how much he liked playing with his toys before breaking them. “And your lover won’t be an issue.”
    Cold fear struck my heart, sending a shaft of pain piercing through my chest. I knew better than to fall for that shit, but at the same time…this was Jeremy we were talking about. God, if he hurt him, it would be all my fault, and a world without Jeremy wasn’t a world I wanted to be in. He might have lied to me and I might be pissed as hell at him, but I loved him with all my heart. And I wanted the chance to maybe forgive him someday, after a hell of a lot of groveling on his part.
    I needed him to be okay.
    “You’re lying,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel.
    He shrugged again, finishing up with his sleeve. The second it was perfectly in place above his elbows, he took a step in my direction. I jerked hard, trying to break free of my captor, knowing it was pointless to do so. I caught sight of Javi’s profile over my shoulder and it was clear there’d be no escape.
    “Jeremy will figure out where I hid everything. It’s in the hiding place from when we were kids,” I said in a rush, lying through my teeth in a futile attempt to buy time. “You’re too late.”
    “We both know that’s not true. Let’s not diminish your spirit with useless lies and pleas for mercy. You’re a fighter, Chelsea. We both enjoy that.”
    I glared at him silently, heart pounding against my ribs.
    “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you, darling,” Richard said softly, his voice like warm butter spreading on fresh-baked bread. “But I need to teach you a lesson. By the time I’m done, you’ll wish you never