Read (Blood and Bone, #2) Sin and Swoon for Free Online

random guy you don’t even know, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to send you in blind. Then you could panic inside of her. But when we started making the new recording, Rory volunteered. It was a subtle change, my description for Rory’s. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”
    “Messing with my head isn’t the big deal. But you said you messed with her recording, the one that has soft sounds and makes my voice a comfort and lets her relax and let me in? You know better than I do that her recording is the key. Hers lets me in and makes her trust me. She has to hear my voice, hear me speaking and describing myself, so when I get inside of her mind I am a familiar face.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “You changed the words to change my plans, but really all you did was show her new faces to pin the crime on. I have to be able to see who she’s trying to show me, which is why I use your face. For me it’s the constant. Rory is always a brother or a side story. I need her to show me the bad guy. And guess what, genius? She doesn’t want to see his face. She doesn’t want to let me see. Can’t you imagine why?”
    “I know, Jane. I taught you all of this. One face isn’t a big change. It’s a very minor change—just so that the man you would love wouldn’t be the man who took Ashley. I wanted it to be that maybe I would be the hero who saved you.” A slight smile twitches on his lips.
    “You wanted to be the hero?” The words leave my lips in a breathless tone that mocks him, even though his words are sort of sweet.
    “I did.” He glances down, folding his arms. “I hate that I’m always the bad guy. I’ve read through the files, the other seven mind runs you did. I am always the bad guy.”
    I bite my lips, completely scared of what I am about to say. In a moment of clarity and possibly hand-of-God action, I pause and stare at the wall of mirrors before us. “Can we take a quick walk?”
    He sighs and makes for the door. I can see he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He saunters through, sulking almost. It’s the strangest experience for me, but I honestly fear the things he thinks of me. Not that I haven’t spent my entire life wondering and worrying what people think, but with him it’s everything. He does normal things like reads the paper while he eats or sorts the contents of our house, which I notice are rapidly growing since he moved in with me. Everything is expanding, creating clutter in our house as we become a couple—a thing—an entity. I try to look busy like he does, wiping counters and sorting papers, but I don’t know how to look busy and yet still watch him for his reactions to things. Every move he makes is natural. Where my movements are deliberate. I copy him and others like a sociopath might. Because regardless of always making him the bad guy, I am the one most likely to be a psycho, I am the one who is detached and damaged. He is the epitome of normal.
    Following him out into the hall feels natural, as does the annoyance in his meddling in my run through her mind. But the part that feels forced is wanting to talk about why he can’t interfere with my mind run.
    I don’t want to talk about it, but I have to. Even if it will embarrass me.
    He folds his arms, cocks an eyebrow, and clenches his jaw. He has no idea how hot I think his annoyed face is. It brings a girlish smile to my lips, making me immediately feel like a schoolgirl. “Why do you always make me be the bad guy? Are you unhappy?”
    And there it is. The difference between us. He can just ask, but I can’t just answer.
    “Do you want me to be a bad guy? Do you want us to fight more?”
    I grimace, wishing the words would just fall out. I’m not the simpering mess he makes me. “No.” How do I explain without sounding like a sissy?
    “What then? Why can’t you just use a random guy as the bad guy?” His tone is impatient, which somehow always makes me feel like a child.
    “I need to be safe when I’m in