Episode One: Look Back in Anger Read Online Free PDF

than allowing her gaze to touch his face, especially since she could feel his eyes locked on her.
    If she could have gotten away with simply saying, Sorry, wrong room , and running for her life, she would have, but just as her feet began to back-step for that elevator, Daddy’s voice caught her.
    “Sam, dear. Come in, have a seat.” He made a vague gesture to one of the chairs across from him at the desk, but she barely took notice. Her eyes were still on that suit. Before she could sort through her urges to obey her father’s voice, or her inner warnings to run, that articulated black suit was upon her.
    “You’re soaked,” Arles said.
    Had he arrived at that brilliant deduction by the puddles that led from the elevator to her feet? Or by the way her hair hung in sad little streaks that stuck to her face? It probably had more to do with his hands on her, brushing her moist mop back into some state of control behind her ears, running along her shoulders to send rivulets of fabric-trapped rain to the floor.
    The man was obviously a genius.
    “Yeah…” It was difficult to use the sarcasm play when all she wanted to do was hide behind her father like a scared five-year-old, but against all she managed her best-ever smarmy glare and pointed to the wall of rain-beaten windows. “It’s raining.”
    “I noticed.” He smirked at her. Like she was adorable. It made her want to stomp on his foot, maybe grind the heel in a little. She might have done just that, if her heart hadn’t seized to a rattle in her rib cage. At least, that was how it felt as the hands on her shoulders drew her in, and completely enfolded her against the hard body of Arles Colfter.
    Those arms wove around her like beguiling serpents, pinning her own to her sides, more by his suffocating presence than strength. His broad mass blocked out the overhead light entirely. When as she thought he could invade her personal space no more, he pressed his lips to her forehead. It was just a kiss, a mild one as those sorts of things went, even between stepsiblings. So why did it feel like he’d just seared his claim into her?
    His lips were overly cool against her flesh, lingering there long after her breath had stalled in her throat. Perhaps she had a fever; the rain could do that to a person, especially in this unseasonably chilly weather. Come to think of it, she did feel a bit dizzy.
    That was the last thing on Sam’s mind. A fever, possibly having to call in sick tomorrow because of it, and knowing she shouldn’t because she had appointments set for two Dobermans whose coding was difficult for the other techs to navigate. If she’d been given a second more, she might have thought to curse her father for dragging her out into the rain, particularly when it meant she’d have to be pawed at by the human filth that held her trapped now.
    The human filth that kept her from smacking her head nastily against the marble tile when she went limp and unconscious.
    * * * *
    For as far back as Sam could remember, Arles had been a terrorist. Even as a young boy his wishes were rarely denied. When they were, his tantrums and retaliation made it clear it was far less painful to simply cave to his whims. He controlled his world with screaming, insults, and scheming that bordered suspiciously on desperation. For many years Sam found herself pitying him. Something had gone terribly wrong in that boy’s head. Something must have; otherwise she couldn’t wrap her mind around his behavior.
    Her memories of her own youth were vague at best, nonexistent entirely on her bad days, but the few fading images she clung to shared one common thread. Arles Colfter. It had always struck her as odd that when her mind betrayed her—the years before her stay in the hospital lost largely to a black void—the few spaces of light and lucidity held only her spiteful stepbrother. It was confusing and disappointing. Often she found herself resenting his presence in her mind, as if his