Shock flashed through Conrad's eyes. No matter how badly I'd fought him before, I had never said those words.
He looked down at me. "I'm not a man who breaks his word. I said I'd give you a home, and I will."
"Don't ever say those two words to me again. Once this is over, I'm taking you to get rid of it."
I laughed, the kind of laugh that comes from being pushed past fury. "What—you won't let me go because you still need me back home servicing the two of you in bed?"
"Tracey Simmons! You're out of your mind!"
His breathing turned heavy.
He'd controlled everything his whole life. The fact that I'd slipped his grip was making his jaw clench.
"Don't forget who's been propping up that distillery all these years."
"Lose that distillery, and your parents can roll over in their graves."
I stared at the man in front of me, then slapped him hard across the face. "Conrad Graves, you don't deserve to be called human."
He didn't dodge. He worked his jaw once, slowly. "Tracey, every time you're lying under me like a good little girl, I think about that accident thirteen years ago. I never asked your father to save me. His bad luck, not mine."
"If that slap helps you blow off steam, I'll take it."