Phoebe. He could ignore everyone in the whole damn world with the singular exception of her. The petite woman in front of him was his lone remaining link to the world. Sometimes—and he wasn’t exactly proud of this fact—but sometimes he resented her for keeping him here. “I’ll be careful, Phoebe. I promise. I’m going to be okay. Once I deal with McDonald, I’ll handle my own situation. I’ll find a way to make it right.”
Meaning he would find a way to make it safe for him to live his life again. He was sure Phoebe thought after he handled this that there would be some way for him to come back and live in a world of backyard barbecues and football watching parties. A world where he was Uncle Ten and he went into some semi-safe job every day and got old and fat and happy.
Phoebe went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “See that you do. I’ll be back to pick at you until you agree to come to dinner.”
She turned on her kitten heels and strode away. She’d made it halfway down the hall when a door came open and a muscular arm shot out, dragging her in. Ten could hear Jesse Murdoch’s low laugh and knew that his sister was about to be taken care of.
The door to the conference room next to him opened. One of the daycare workers smiled as she walked out, a baby on her hip.
Yeah that never happened at the Agency either.
He ran into his office and closed the door behind him. He wasn’t about to get attached to any of those kids no matter how cute they were. He wasn’t getting involved with them any more than he wanted to get cozy with the women.
He wouldn’t be here in a few months. It was best he left as little of himself behind here as possible. He’d learned early on to keep his suitcase packed because he never knew when he was going to be leaving. This time he did, and he wasn’t going to hurt anyone when he went.
He sat down at his desk and the photo of Faith McDonald slipped from his grip and onto the tabletop.
Well, maybe one person. He’d hurt her, but there wasn’t any help for it.
With a long sigh, he turned on his laptop and started writing an introductory letter to his first—and only—submissive.
CHAPTER TWO
Hello. How was your flight?
Faith couldn’t help but get a thrill as she looked at the message. There were three messages waiting for her on her laptop. One from her dad, one from the clinic, but it was the one from Master T that made her heart speed up in her chest. She looked at the delivery time. It was only ten minutes before. He might still be at his computer.
She hesitated. This was crazy. She was starting a relationship with a man she knew next to nothing about except that he’d passed a background check and her friends liked him.
And he was gorgeous. That shouldn’t matter. That didn’t matter. Not really. But damn the man was hot in his pictures.
She could still get out of this. Was it a good idea to get close to a man the submissives at his home club called Master No? Erin had passed on that tidbit of information. Apparently Timothy Graham was a bit of a hardass when he wanted to be.
Still, she found herself typing.
It was nice, Sir. And hello to you. She winced as she pressed the return button. She didn’t want to get out of this. This might be the first positive step she’d taken in forever. She’d taken back her professional life after what had happened in Ghana, but she’d allowed herself to stay stagnant in her personal life. Roger had been predictable and that was what she’d liked about him. He understood her. She understood him. Boring and yet comfortable. Like a pair of sweatpants.
She wanted her love life to be better than a pair of sweatpants.
I’m glad your flight made it in on time. I thought I would check on you. I sent you an e-mail. Did you get the contract?
The Sanctum contract. The one that basically gave large portions of her life over to this man. Of course, it was only a piece of paper. It was the symbol of it all that
Learning to Kill: Stories