the lives these hands had taken years ago, the body count too many to

recall.

Stretching her hand against mine, her fingers barely reached past my second set

of knuckles and for some reason, I found myself curling my fingers over hers. That

was when I allowed my hand to take over hers, tracing her lines and delicate

features. Even though her hand was small, it was still capable of so much damage,

so much fury. Being punched by her little fist felt like being stabbed with a baseball

batsmall and concentrated but still painful as hell.

My fingers kept up their expedition until they came across some minor calluses

beginning to form on the top of Jaden’s palm, just below her fingers. My fingertips

lingered on the tiny rough patterns, suddenly frowning in disapproval.

“You’re getting calluses from all the weights you’ve been lifting,” I said softly.

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled with a slight nod against my chest.

I didn’t want her hands rough like mine. I wanted them soft and feminine,

polished and pristine. But still capable of delivering a strong punch if she needed

to.

“I’ll get you some weight lifting gloves,” I said.

“Mmkay,” she said sleepily, her eyes finally closing while her fingers curled

around mine.

I placed her hand back down onto my abdomen, my hand still clutching hers and

loving everything I felt. That night I fell asleep dreaming of something I’d never

seen beforeJaden’s genuine smile. It was so rare to see, and I suddenly decided I

wanted it more often.

29

SURPRISE

The next day I was gifted with a surprise visit from Irina and Anya. I was so excited

to see them my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. They couldn’t understand my

words, but they could translate through my body language.

Irina gave me a fresh new cut and blow out while Anya took care of my nails and

toes. I was a little shocked to see she was painting my toes a shiny bright red with

sparkly white tips, which wasn’t my usual color. But what was even more

suspicious was when she continued to paint my finger nails the same red color

while giving my ring fingers an accent nail that resembled a candy cane. It was a

cool design, and I praised her well for it.

I found it oddly intriguing that Anya had given me a Christmas-themed

manicure and pedicure. Maybe Darren had been listening to me last night about the

holidays, after all. Maybe I could ask for a small Christmas tree for my room or

something. That would be nice, especially since no Christmas decorations adorned

the house. If my iPod didn’t have a calendar on it, I’d never know what day it was,

and that would make things even more miserable than before.

It was weird having Clive and Owen present in the room while Anya and Irina

worked. It made everything that much more uncomfortable, the anxiety in the

room palpable. I felt like this was an overstepanother invasion of time that was

precious to me. It was completely unnecessary, especially after Holly.

When I met Darren for dinner, I waited until he was finished eating, hoping that

his satisfied palate would make for better negotiations. I finally got the nerve to

speak up when I felt my plate had been diligently cleared enough and cleared my

throat.

“Do Clive and Owen have to be present in my room when Anya and Irina are

there?” I asked as nicely as possible.

“Yes,” Darren said without even looking at me, dismissing the question.

I grimace at him. “Why? I’m not going to do anything.”

“I know. And them being there is exactly why you won’t.”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Even if they weren’t there, I still wouldn’t do anything.

I don’t need a repeat of what happened to Holly,” I said gravely.

“You’ve already admitted to me once that my absence makes you care less about

my rules. And I’ve already stretched far enough on letting you roam the woods

without your bodyguards as it is. That is as far as my trust in you will go.”

I pursed my lips. “Could they at least just stand outside my open bedroom

door?” I tried to counter.

“No. Now, come on. I have a gift for you.”

I paled.

Oh, no. Not another “gift.”

The failed negotiations forgotten, Darren took me by my hand and led me over

to the living room where a rectangular box, wrapped in red and gold wrapping

paper and a big red bow sat on the coffee table. Setting me down on the couch,

Darren placed the present on my lap and sat down across from me.

“Open it,” he said with a nod.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I carefully opened the present; gently tearing off

the paper and crumpling it into a ball to make the least amount of mess as possible,

I finally opened the box. Pushing aside the white

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