Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides
“You down-right pissed me off with that move, and if you ever disobey me like that again, you will wish I had disavowed you when I’m done. I may be an old, fat bastard now, but I still remember how to make a woman . . . suffer, and would love nothing more than to revisit some of my old memories from before I ‘retired’ and founded this little organization. Are we clear?”
It takes a lot to unnerve me—being a sociopathic bitch has its perks, after all. But Zeke somehow always manages to creep under my skin. I do not doubt for a second his sincerity at this moment.
“Yes, we’re clear,” I manage to croak out, furious at myself for how weak I know my voice sounds, knowing I am just feeding into his
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