His Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

willing her to look at me.
    Her gaze lifts sharply to mine. “You aren’t this whip. We are not this whip.”
    My hand closes over hers on the whip. “I know.”
    “No. You don’t.”
    “Smart girl,” Isabel purrs. “Smarter than you, mon cher .”
    Sara jerks back and steps around me, lifting the whip, her wrist cocked to use it. Grabbing her wrist, I insert myself back between her and Isabel, and in this instant I fear for Sara and for us, more than I ever have. “It’s not worth it. She’s not worth it.”
    Her lips and hands quiver. “She needs to feel what she makes other people feel.”
    “She won’t do it,” Isabel taunts. “She’s too weak and submissive.”
    Sara takes a step forward, and I shackle one of her legs with my knees. “Don’t listen to her,” I warn. “This isn’t you, Sara, and you’ll regret it.”
    She starts to tremble all over and her eyes glaze. “I just . . .” She presses her free hand to her face. “I just . . .” She looks at me. “She makes me . . . angry.”
    “I know,” I murmur, taking the whip from her and dropping it to the ground, then lacing my fingers with hers and leading her toward the holding room.
    “He’ll always need a whip,” Isabel snaps. “Anything else is a lie.”
    Those words follow us into the other room, and I can almost feel the fear they create in Sara, but there is too much to say, and too little time, before Amber and Tristan become an issue. The instant we’re inside the private viewing room, I turn Sara to me.
    “Before we leave I need to make a call here, where we’re not monitored, but we have to be ready to move. Tristan’s trying to get Amber out of here. He’s supposed to call me before they leave, but she’s still volatile. I can’t be sure we’ll have much warning.”
    “Can’t you make the call outside?”
    “No, once we leave, we’d need Isabel to let us back inside. Amber threatened suicide, Sara. We need to stay close in case Tristan needs us.”
    She blanches. “Oh, God. Now it all makes sense. She’s acting out, crying for help, and I did nothing.”
    “What? Sara, this isn’t on you.”
    “Yes, it is. Even if it’s subconsciously, I sensed this in her. You and Tristan were too close to this to see it. I think I was the stranger who she thought might listen, and I didn’t hear her.”
    I did this, yet she’s blaming herself—a prime example of a lifetime of self-blame working her over, and an example of why I’m so damn certain she’s a step from the edge I can’t let her take. I pull her to me. “This is on me, baby. Not you. Tristan was right. I stayed in her life out of guilt, and became a crutch, not a solution.” I kiss her forehead. “Watch for Amber.” I pull out my phone. “I’m going to get my attorney to arrange a treatment center for Amber, with check-in tonight if possible.”
    “Good.” She steps to the window, hugging herself, the self-blame radiating off her, and I know I was right. Rebecca, and even the Ella situation, have influenced every interaction with Amber. She wants to save the world. I need to save her, right after I save Amber.
    I dial my attorney, who thankfully answers and is quick to instruct me and then go to work. “Well?” she prods when I hang up.
    “He had another client who had to commit his daughter. He’s pulling some strings at that facility. He says that since Amber threatened suicide, we can get her committed for observation, but it won’t guarantee she stays in treatment. We need her agreement for that.”
    “That’s not going to be easy.” She glances at the window. “Shouldn’t they be leaving by now?”
    “Yeah. I’m concerned.” I dial Tristan, who doesn’t answer, and I grimace. “I’m starting to think I need to check on them.”
    “Won’t someone miss Isabel?”
    “Not when she has company.” My phone beeps and I grab it and glance down to read what Tristan has written: I convinced her to leave by telling her you were