Page 80 of His Dark Pact

Sitting by his calf, the oddest sensation washed over her, as though her entire life had been leading up to that moment.

“I want there to be more than only the money, sir.” She shifted awkwardly on her sore ass. She needed the money, no doubt about that, but she craved him, too. “But I don’t want to presume.”

“I think we’re past presumption, Amy,” he smirked, as if her admission was crazy.

“Yes.” She risked a smile as she met his eyes.

“I love having you here.” His fingers trailed into her hair and tightened in her long tresses. “That’s obvious, but—”

His words were halted by the jarring electronic tone coming from the pocket of her robe, his brows knitting as he glanced down to the source of the sound.

“Is that your phone?”

“Er, yes.” Her hand sought the device from the large pocket of the robe as his hand relaxed in her hair. “I’d forgotten I left it in there after the sauna.”

The truth was, ever since she’d arrived in Kyle’s world of dominance and submission, she’d not spent much time worrying about her phone, although he’d never forbade her from using the thing. She’d been too busy serving him, pleasing him, and riding his cock to spend time on social media, and by the time she got to her bed after dessert, she was weary with fatigue.

“Answer it.” He blew out a breath again. “When you’re done, we’ll finish talking, and I’ll have another brandy.”

“No problem, sir.”

His second brandy meant that she would be expected to serve him... a fact she still found bizarrely intoxicating.

“I’ll be quick.”

Fishing the phone from her pocket, her focus scanned the screen.

Fairfield Correctional Facility.

Seth was calling? Her heart skipped a beat. Why was Seth calling?

While they had a decent relationship and spoke on the phone sometimes, conversations had been strained since his transfer to the new jail. It was closer to home than the previous one, but he always seemed reticent for her to visit. Amy hadn’t yet gotten to the bottom of why that was.

Instinctively, tension furled in her tummy.

Something must be wrong.

“It’s my son.” A crease appeared in her brow, and before Kyle had time to respond, she accepted the call and agreed to pay the charges as she held the device by her ear. “Seth?”

“Mum.”

She swallowed, and intuitively, she knew—she justknew—that her gut feeling had been right.

“Seth, what’s wrong?”

She turned her face away from the man in the chair beside her, the world outside of her place on the rug fading away around her. She hadn’t understood many of Seth’s choices, but one thing remained unshakeable—while there was still breath in her body, she’d do whatever she could to be there for him, to protect him. He was still her son.

“It’s not Seth, Mum.”

The remaining pieces of her sanity slipped away as her brain rushed to conclude what that meant.

“Jonah?” She forced out the word. “Is that you? Why are you calling from Fairfield?”

“I’m being held here.” Jonah’s voice broke with emotion.

“What?” She rose to her knees, unable to suppress the urgency whipping around her system. “What the hell happened?”

“They’re holding me here until my court date.” Jonah was sobbing, the sound of his woe tearing through her sense of repletion.