Black Listed(24)
“It’s not that easy.” He couldn’t save her with all the money in the world. If they stayed together, her father would find her. He’d go after the black list and kill them both. She couldn’t afford to take that risk.
“It can be. Trust me, and I’ll slay all your dragons,” he said, cupping her face. “Tell me why you took that money from me and where it all went. Tell me why you’re scared.”
She covered his hands with her own. “I can’t.”
“You can, Annaliese. Just say the word, and I’ll—”
“Black list,” she whispered. If he kept pressing her, she was afraid she would crumble under the sweetness of his words and tell him everything.
He dropped his hands and stepped away from her. “Right.” He cleared his throat, his gaze on the door. “Before I drop you at your office, I want you to make a list of people who might have done the damage to your condo. While you’re at work, I’ll see what I can find out about them. Maybe one of them recently flew into town.”
“I’d ask how you’re going to check the airline records, but I don’t think I want to know.”
He gave her a grin, but it looked forced. “It’s probably better that way.”
All business now, he strode over to the desk and handed her a notepad and pen.
She took it from him, nervous about what he’d think of her when she finished. Could she do this? She worried her lip with her teeth. As long as she didn’t have to give him the details of her cons, she supposed she could handle it. “It’s a long list, Sawyer. I’ve hurt a lot of people throughout the years.” And without the list in front of her, she wouldn’t be able to remember them all. Later, when she got the chance, she’d check the journal to see if she’d forgotten anyone.
He raised his brows. “How many years are we talking about? You’re only twenty-five. Or did you lie to me about your age?”
“No. I didn’t lie about that. But my age is irrelevant, because I’ve been conning people since the moment I was born.”
He waited a beat, his eyes searching her face. “What’s your real name?”
“Annaliese Hunt.” She shook her head. That wasn’t the name she wanted him to know her as. “Well, Annaliese Hayes. At least for a little while longer.” Until their divorce.
His hands went into his pockets as he leaned against the desk. “Why did you give me your real name when we met?”
She’d spent countless hours pondering that very question, never coming to a concrete answer. But only one thing made sense. “Because from the moment I met you, I recognized you as my Master. I needed you to know the real me.”
He frowned. “And yet I don’t know the real you, because you haven’t let me. Do you even know who you are?”
“I thought I did. Then you walked back into my life and have made me question everything I thought I knew about myself.” Paper and pen in hand, she rested her backside against the desk, her shoulder brushing against Sawyer. “These last few years were the longest I’ve ever gone by the same name, did you know that? I’ve kept my hair short and brown, worn the same colored contacts under non-prescription glasses, and dressed conservatively. I don’t have a hobby. I don’t watch television. I don’t date. With the exception of my weekly girls’ night, I work and come home.” Eighteen-hour days let her return home for a bath and a glass of wine before falling into bed exhausted.
Her friends were her lighthouse as she floated aimlessly on the endless sea. Without them, she would drown. They had no idea how their friendships had yanked her out of the deep, dark depression she’d lived with since losing Sawyer.
She waited all week for Thursday night, when they’d meet up at the bar for dinner and drinks. It was her chance to live vicariously through them as they shared stories about their adventures in kink.
Although she couldn’t tell them the truth, she envied them for their ability to experience their sexuality freely. Kate, a masochist, got the pain she needed through whippings and floggings from her Dominant, Jaxon. Danielle was an exhibitionist, and she and her husband, Cole, loved to fuck in front of an audience. Logan and Rachel were into bondage. Gracie was into . . . well, everything, but she desperately sought a permanent full-time Master and loved to participate in threesomes.
Lisa longed for all of it and could have none of it. With the exception of Rachel, none of them even knew she was kinky. They thought she was uptight, conservative, no-nonsense Lisa Smith, the daughter of two teachers who had died in a car accident when she was eighteen. They didn’t know she’d never gone to college. That every piece of ID she owned was fake. That even if she had wanted to go to the state and apply for a driver’s license in her real name, she couldn’t. According to the world, Annaliese Hunt didn’t exist. She had been born at home, so there was no birth certificate. Nothing to tie her to anyone. She was a ghost, a shell of a person walking around on this earth without any real substance.