Best Friend With Benefits-A Se - B. B. Hamel(ang.)

BEST FRIEND WITH BENEFITS

B.B. HAMEL

Copyright © 2017 by B. B. Hamel All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Mailing List Prologue: Vivian 1. Henry 2. Vivian 3. Henry 4. Vivian 5. Henry 6. Vivian 7. Henry 8. Vivian 9. Henry 10. Vivian 11. Henry 12. Vivian 13. Henry 14. Vivian 15. Henry 16. Vivian 17. Henry 18. Vivian 19. Henry 20. Vivian 21. Henry 22. Vivian

23. Henry 24. Henry 25. Vivian 26. Henry 27. Vivian Virgin’s Daddy: A Dark Romance Prologue: Sadie 1. Gavin 2. Sadie 3. Gavin 4. Sadie 5. Gavin 6. Sadie 7. Gavin 8. Sadie 9. Gavin 10. Sadie 11. Gavin 12. Sadie 13. Gavin 14. Sadie 15. Gavin 16. Sadie 17. Gavin 18. Sadie 19. Gavin 20. Sadie 21. Gavin 22. Gavin 23. Sadie 24. Sadie

Intense: A Dark Billionaire Romance Prologue: Aria 1. Ethan 2. Aria 3. Ethan 4. Aria 5. Ethan 6. Aria 7. Ethan 8. Aria 9. Ethan 10. Aria 11. Ethan 12. Aria 13. Ethan 14. Aria 15. Ethan 16. Aria 17. Ethan 18. Aria 19. Ethan 20. Aria 21. Ethan 22. Aria 23. Ethan 24. Aria 25. Ethan 26. Aria 27. Ethan 28. Aria Thank You

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PROLOGUE: VIVIAN

T

his is pretty wrong, even for me.

We work together. That’s basically breaking every single rule I have for the workplace, which admittedly is pretty lax overall. But still, I have my one rule, and I stick to it. I don’t sleep with coworkers, especially not when I’m out on assignment. But on top of that, and more importantly, it’s freaking Henry. He’s the guy that broke my heart all those years ago, destroyed me out of nowhere, and made my senior year a living hell. He’s all grown up now though. That handsome, boyish kid grew up into an incredibly attractive, muscular, rugged looking man. I can still get glimpses of that teenager I dated a long time ago,

but he’s all man now and it’s hard to see him any other way. So I’m pretty stupid for getting myself in this position, right? I should probably walk away. But my heart beats fast as soon as Henry comes up behind me, pins me up against the wall, and whispers in my ear. “Have you been dreaming about my cock all these years?” I gasp and shake my head but he pulls me hair and I can feel his smirk against my neck. “Come off it, Viv. You pretend to be so prim and good, but I know that’s just for the cameras.” He grabs my hair and pills it back, hard, making me gasp. “I know what you’re really like. I know you, Viv.” “Not anymore,” I whisper, but my heart is hammering as he roughly presses his hand down the front of my jeans, finding my dripping pussy. “Just like I remember. You’re still a teenage girl down here, you tight little slut.” He presses his fingers deep inside of me and I gasp. “Don’t be an asshole,” I moan as he fucks me slowly with his thick, strong hands. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been dreaming of

me fucking you for years, and maybe I’ll be nice.” “Fine,” I say, pushing back from the wall. His hand slides out from my jeans as I whirl on him. “You want the truth?” He grins and pushes me back against the wall, pinning me there with his hips as he grabs my hair and tips my head back. “Go ahead, give it to me. What’s the truth?” I stare back at him defiantly. “I haven’t wasted a single second on you since the day I left town.” He grins and he knows I’m lying. I know he can see right through me, he always could, but I can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth. I can’t let him know that I haven’t forgotten him, not even for a second. I’ve had my own life since high school, of course, but I never really let him go, not completely. And now that he’s back, all of those feelings are back, too. But he’s such a cocky asshole, he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re fucking sexy when you lie, girl,” he says. And before I can answer, he crushes my mouth with a kiss, stifling any resistance I have left. That bastard. He broke my heart back then and

now I’m stuck with him, working in close quarters together. I didn’t want this, not even a little bit, but I have no other choice. It’s a good story, and I’m not going to be the one who backs down. So when he cups my breasts and tell me how badly he wants to watch me swallow his come, I know I’m screwed, because I want to taste it just as bad.

1

HENRY

“Y

ou see the new girl yet?”

I lean back in my chair and eye Greg as he gives me a big, stupid grin. “Not yet,” I say. “Some of us have to work, you know.” “Oh, come off it. You field producers always act like you’re better than the rest of us.” Greg is older, in his mid-fifties, and he’s been doing this reporting thing since before I was born. Still, we’ve been working together now for five years, and he trusts me. He’s balding, getting a little heavier, but he still knows what he’s doing. The old beat reporter is still buried in there, behind the lazy desk jockey he’s become. He’s my mentor, in a lot of ways, but I’d never fucking tell him that.

I grin right back. “That’s because we are.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You know, Henry, if you weren’t so damn good at what you do, I would have fired your ass a while ago.” “I know,” I say and laugh. “But who else are you going to get to travel all to all the shit parts of the world?” “Nobody,” he admits. “See, we’re beautiful together. You sit on your lazy ass and edit my stories while I go out and risk my damn life to find them.” He groans and rolls his eyes. “Were you ever in danger in Indonesia?” “No,” I admit. “Nice place, actually.” “And what about Berlin, before that?” “No,” I admit again. “Although those Neo-Nazis were pretty rough guys.” “Quit pretending like your life is always in danger.” I shrug and lean back in my chair. “Maybe not those last two assignments, but you remember Afghanistan. You remember the Ukraine, Colombian terrorists, Spanish separatists, gang violence in Detroit.”

“Had to pay you overtime for Detroit,” he grumbles. “Fine, okay, I get your point. Still don’t know why you can’t let me talk about the new reporter girl without giving me shit.” “Fine, okay,” I say, laughing. I feel a little bad for being a dick. “Go ahead. What about her?” He looks at me for a second. “She’s smoking hot.” I groan and laugh again. “That’s why I give you shit.” He grins and shrugs a little, looking sheepish, but I know he can’t help himself. Greg is the Editor-in-Chief at World Beats News. We’re a gritty little online outfit specializing in short-film style news reporting all over the world. I’m a field producer, which means I go out with teams to produce and report on whatever story gets assigned to me. More often than not, they’re pretty fucking dangerous, since Greg knows I can handle my shit. But lately, I’ve been restless. I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’ve spent the majority of my twenties traveling all over the world. My apartment is practically empty, since I live out of hotels, and my love life is just as empty. I sleep with plenty of beautiful and exotic women, but that only keeps

you satisfied for so long. I see the old, grizzled producers, still traveling the world after all these years, and I wonder. What would my life be like if I didn’t be come like them? They’re all heavy smokers, unhealthy as fuck, addicted to the thrill, and completely alone in this world. I have ambitions, dreams, goals, but I also want something more than endless hotel rooms and nearmisses. “What’s her name, anyway?” I ask him. “Vivian. She’s a Harvard girl, been around the block a bit. Wrote for the Times, did a couple years at Vice, and now she’s here.” I frown at him. That name sounds familiar, but there are a million girls named Vivian in the world, though probably not that many that also went to Harvard. “What do you have her doing?” I ask him. He frowns and opens a folder. “Let’s see. Nothing you’d be interested in.” He leafs through it and pulls out a sheet. “Here we go. Opioid epidemic. We’re sending her to a town in Alabama that was practically destroyed by it.”

“Sounds fun,” I say. He raises an eyebrow. “The chances of her getting shot are pretty slim. So I doubt you’d be interested.” I shake my head. “Don’t assume. Who’s producing for her?” “Nobody right now.” I glance down at the floor, my mind racing. I can’t imagine it’s actually her, actually Vivian from my past, but what if? I know she wanted to be a journalist, and she definitely went to Harvard, but I haven’t been following her all these years. I haven’t wanted to follow her. I haven’t let myself. Because I know that if I let myself look her up and find out what kind of happy, amazing life she’s living, I know I’ll only be fucking hurting myself. So I’ve ignored her, pretended like she wasn’t out there somewhere, although I’ve had her in the back of my mind, even after all this time. The one that got away. The girl who’s heart I broke and trampled over. The one thing I partially regret, although I did it for the right reasons. At least I think so. “What’s her full name?” I ask him.

He grins at me. “Got a crush on her, Hank?” “Don’t call me that,” I grunt at him. “Whatever. Her full name’s Vivian Cross, from Michigan originally, it seems. At least according to her bio.” He hesitates a second. “Say, aren’t you from Michigan too?” “Yeah,” I say as I’m suddenly transported back in time. I can see her all over again, that perfect smile, those full lips, that thick blonde hair, that perfect body, the way I felt around her, driving in my piece of shit truck, and now she’s back. It’s her, it has to be her. Vivian Cross, the one that got away. “I’m going to produce for her,” I say, standing. “Wait, hold on. I was going to assign her Jeff.” I stare at him. “No. I’m doing it.” He hesitates. “You sure?” “Yes,” I say. “You owe me and you know it.” He sighs. “There something I should know here?” “No,” I say, leaving his office. Greg will make it happen. I’ve done a lot for WBN and he knows it. He owes me a million favors at

this point. I’m sure there’s going to be some gossip about this, since I’m not normally the type to take a job like this, but I don’t fucking care. Vivian is back. And I can’t help myself. As I head back through the halls to my little temporary cubicle, practically empty since I never spend any time in it, I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t know what I’m going to feel when I finally see her again. And we’re going to be working very, very closely together. I have to produce the show while she does the on-camera reporting, plus a lot of the writing. We build this segment together. I don’t know how she’s going to react when she sees me again. I’m afraid she’s going to be angry, and frankly I wouldn’t blame her, not after what I did. I made her life hell back then, not really because I wanted to, but because I had to. She doesn’t understand because I was too stupid back then to try and explain. No excuses now, though. We’re grown and we’re adults, so we’ll work together and get this done. Maybe this is a mistake. I can already see a million different ways this can go wrong. But I can’t help myself. I have a chance to see Vivian again, and I’m going to take it.

2

VIVIAN

N

ew city, new life, new beginning. I hate moving, but I know it’s the best thing for my career. After graduating with a journalism degree from Harvard, I moved to New York City and worked as a reporter at the Times. After that, I floated around working for online publications like Vice and Buzzfeed, mostly just doing some freelance stuff, but that money wasn’t great. And I wasn’t doing the sort of reporting that I’ve always wanted to do. I don’t know how many Buzzfeed quizzes I can possibly write in my life. And Vice just wanted me to write about sex all the time, which is fun and stuff, but not what I pictured when I was fresh out of school.

I want to do something serious, something with real consequences. There are a million important stories out there that need to be reported, and I want to be the one to do it. So when I got a job with World Beats News, I didn’t hesitate to move to Philadelphia. I left behind all my friends and my life in New York and I followed my dream. Now I’m living in a crappy little apartment right off Passyunk Avenue, which is actually a cute neighborhood. All of my things are still in boxes, which admittedly isn’t all that much. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror, at my white blouse and pencil skirt, and I wonder for the hundredth time if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know a lot about WBN, although I’ve seen some of their reporting, and it’s damn good. They had a piece about the Ukraine a couple years ago that was fantastic. I’m going to get the chance to do some serious reporting, and although I’m not familiar with much of the staff at WBN, I know they’re a legitimate operation. Sure, the pay isn’t the best in the world, but it’s real work. It’s real reporting. I just don’t know if I’m ready for it. I straighten my skirt, grab my bag, and head

outside. It’s early, but I don’t want to risk being late for my first day. I hurry to the subway, manage to get a pass, and head onto the first local train that shows up. WBN is headquartered in a cool old building right off Market Street. I have to ride the subway and switch from the orange line to the blue line then ride it all the way down to Second, and from there I have to walk another block north. It takes me about a half hour, which isn’t bad, and I’m right on time as I head up a steep flight of stairs. The office is above a record store, which I’ll have to check out later, but for now I’m focusing on the task at hand. First days are always awkward. I’m the new girl here, and I have to expect a little bit of discomfort. I’ve gone through first days before, it’s not a big deal. I still can’t help but feel like I need to prove myself, though. This is a real website doing real news. They’re not writing clickbait puff pieces about avocado toast and cat gifs. Sure, I did some real serious journalism with the Times, but never like what WBN does. I’ve never traveled for a story and spent weeks researching it firsthand, but that’s exactly what I’ll be doing here. I reach the top of the steps and head through a door. I come into a small waiting room with a single

secretary sitting out front. She’s young with dirty blonde hair and long red nails, and she smiles as I approach. “Vivian Cross for Greg Tanner,” I say. “Hi Vivian, I’m Meggy, nice to meet you.” She stands and shakes my hand. “He’s expecting you, head on back.” I smile and thank her before walking through the halls. WBN’s office looks just like any other office in the world. It’s filled with cubicles in the center, with a few offices around the outer walls and a large, glass-enclosed conference room toward the back. There are some people working already, and a few look up as I pass. Greg’s office is at the very back of the building. I knock once before opening the door and stepping inside. “Greg?” I ask, coming toward him. He smiles. He’s balding with a five o’clock shadow and a rounding middle. I notice nicotine stains on his knuckles and his teeth aren’t perfectly white. I instantly recognize the look of a bullpen reporter from my days at the Times. He was probably a serous vet back in the day before taking over WBN.

“Glad you’re here,” he says, shaking my hand. “We’re excited to have you.” “Thanks,” I say. “I’m excited to be here.” “You want the tour?” he asks. “Sure,” I say. “Come on.” He comes around his desk and we head back out into the hall. “It’s not much to look at to be honest. Mostly, our people are out in the field. You won’t even get a permanent desk.” I raise an eyebrow at that. “Where should I work today?” He shrugs. “Any open cubicle is fine, they’re never full.” He points out a few things in the office, the conference room and the breakroom, before we stop near the front. “Listen, I already have an assignment for you.” My heart skips a beat. “Really?” I ask. “Really,” he says. “Unless you feel like you’re not ready and want to just bang out some copy for a few days?” I shake my head quickly. “Not at all,” I say. “I want to get out there.” He grins at me. “Good, that’s what I wanted to

hear. Truth is, this is a pretty easy assignment as far as they go.” “What’s the story?” I ask him as we walk more slowly back toward his office. “It’s a piece on the opioid epidemic,” he says. “Fentanyl,” I say, familiar with the story. “Serious stuff.” “Horrible stuff,” he agrees. “There’s a town in Alabama called Sellersville, a little tiny place in the middle of nowhere, that’s been hit real hard by all this. You’re going there, putting a story together about it.” I nod, my mind already spinning. “That sounds really interesting,” I say. “I hope so. You’re in it for a few weeks at least.” “When do I start?” He grins at me. “Next week. You get settled here for now, and then we’ll ship you off.” Before we reach his office, he stops and gestures at the cubes. “Hey, Henry, come over here.” One of the people sitting at a desk slowly stands and turns to face me. As soon as I stare into his deep, intense blue eyes, I’m instantly transported back in time.

It’s freshman year. I’ve been with Henry for a few months already. We’re standing down by a little river that runs behind his house, more like a creek. He throws a stone into the water. “What’s your plan?” he asks me. I shrug a little. “Lunch in a little bit, I guess.” He grins. “No, I mean, for life. What do you want to do?” I shrug again. “I dunno. Never thought about it.” “You’re a good writer,” he says, throwing another rock. “And you read the news a lot.” “Yeah,” I say. “ But I can’t get paid to read the paper.” “No, but you can write it.” He turns to me and grabs my hand. “Ever think about that?” “I don’t know,” I admit, stumbling down against his broad chest. He grins in that awkward way of his and kisses me deep on the lips. I’m pulled back into the present day as Henry sticks his hand out at me. “Hello, Vivian,” he says to me. I blink and stare at his hand. I haven’t seen him since high school, since he broke my heart. I was

just a girl back then but I haven’t forgotten him, not for a single second. We were together for two years, were making plans to be together for much longer, when he suddenly ended things. He didn’t speak to me for the last half of senior year. I ended up going to Harvard, accepting a full academic scholarship, and last I heard he went to Michigan. We lost touch. Well, truth is, I haven’t wanted to speak to him. He destroyed me back then. He was the boy next door, the guy I grew up with playing in mud as kids. We didn’t realize we were more than friends until we got older. And then he ended everything, just like that. “Uh, hi, Henry,” I say, taking his broad palm. He grins and shake my hand. I’m at a total loss for words. “Well,” Greg says finally, and Henry lets my palm go. It feels like being torn from a wall socket, and my skin’s still buzzing. “Henry here just about blackmailed me into letting him produce your first story. So you two will be spending a lot of time together soon.” “That’s right,” Henry says, that awkward grin returning, this time all grown up. “We’re going to be working really well together, I think.”

My heart hammers in my ears and I can only nod my head blindly, barely able to speak. Henry’s back, and somehow he’s my producer. Somehow we’re working closely together. I don’t know how I didn’t realize he worked at WBN. I had no clue he was even in this business, to be fair, and I didn’t do much research on every single employee that works here. Still, I feel so stupid for missing this. It’s the biggest piece of news I could possibly imagine, and I wasn’t on top of it. Henry, the kid that broke my heart, the one that got away, is back now. And he’s all grown up. He’s taller, broader, more handsome, more rugged. There’s an edge to him now, like he’s leaner and stronger, like he’s seen a few things. He’s starting to look like Greg, actually, like a serious, grizzled veteran. And we’re the same age. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, how I’m going to work with Henry again. But as Greg shows me to an empty cubicle, I know that I have no other choice. I’m not backing down, not for any reason.

3

HENRY

S

eeing Vivian again was… strange.

It’s impossible to describe the feelings that coursed through my veins when she stood in front of me, flesh and blood, really there. It was her all right, with those wide, pretty green eyes and that same hair. She’s grown up now though, filled out in all the right places, no longer that awkward teenager. She’s chic and in charge, and I wanted to kiss her. I don’t know why or how that even occurred to me but I wanted it so badly I could barely stand. I wanted to press myself against her the way that I used to and smile and say “Hey, Vivvy girl,” the way I used to. But of course I couldn’t. We’re strangers now. The

look she gave me was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and anger. I probably deserve the anger, and I’m not surprised by the shock. We spent the next week ignoring each other. We both worked out of the main Philly office, sitting in cubicles on opposite sides of the building. I tried talking to her once or twice, but each time she smiled, was painfully polite, and got the fuck out of the conversation as soon as humanly possible. I didn’t expect her to just drop everything and act like we’re in love again or something insane, but I at least hoped she’d be happy to see me. Even if things didn’t end the best, it’s been years and we’ve lived a lot since then. Instead, I can see the anger. And I can feel the discomfort. But after that first week, she can’t ignore me anymore. We’re about to work together, and she can’t pretend like I don’t exist. The whole crew meets at gate C17 in the Philly airport. It’s me, Billy the older camera guy, Trace the younger camera guy, Miller the sound guy, and Vivian. I’m supposedly the leader of the pack, and I know the three crew guys pretty well, but I have no clue how Viv is going to respond to any of this at all.

She’s sitting, staring at her phone when I roll up with Billy, Trace, and Miller in tow. She stands and shakes hands, introducing herself all around. “Good to meet you,” Billy says. He’s in his midfifties, been doing this forever, basically. He’s thin, almost to the point of being gaunt, and the guy can drink, though he doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol while he’s on duty or on call. Trace, meanwhile, is the opposite of him. Pudgy and young with a perpetual baby face, he tries to grow his beard out to compensate for how young he looks, but it never quite works out. “Pleasure,” he says to Viv, grinning. Miller is the last to meet her. He’s broad and short, a little bulldog if I’ve ever seen one, but he knows what he’s doing. The man can hold a boom aloft for hours at a time without complaint. “Hi,” he says, not one for words. We sit down together and I end up next to Vivian. I can feel the tension radiating from her, and I know I need to squash it as soon as possible. I can’t let this weirdness between us get in the way of the job. Besides, I hate it. I personally don’t want her to despise me the way that she seems to. “You ever been to Alabama before?” I ask her.

Miller has his headphones on, Trace is nose-deep in a fantasy novel, and Billy is off drinking at a bar. We’re practically alone. She glances at me. “No, never,” she says. “It’s not so bad,” I say. “Gets a bad reputation, but it’s beautiful. Gorgeous mountains, landscapes, that sort of thing.” She raise an eyebrow. “Why, have you been there before?” “Work,” I say. “Did a thing about strip mining back in the day.” “Sounds exciting.” She shifts toward me. I shrug a little. “It was fine. Early in my career. I went to Afghanistan after that, and hell, that was exciting.” She quirks an eyebrow at me. “You were in Afghanistan?” I nod a little, pretending to be bashful, but truthfully I love to talk about it. “Reported on this group of women, living out in the mountains, totally without men. Sort of this weird feminist collective in a place that doesn’t value women.” “What happened?” she asks.

“Taliban came in, took a few women away, killed a few others.” I shrug a little bit, trying to pretend like it doesn’t affect me, though I still dream about it sometimes. “We had to cut the report short, get out of there. That story won a prize.” Her eyes go a little wide. “Wait a second. I read that one. Back in 2013, right?” “Right,” I say. “It was good reporting. Made my job easy.” “I didn’t know you were involved.” “I was just the producer,” I say. “I don’t always get credited, which is fine by me.” “Must be frustrating,” she says, leaning toward me. “Not getting that recognition.” “You get used to it.” I shrug a little and lean toward her as well. We’re sitting so close together, and for a second all the awkwardness melts away. “Where have you been all these years, Viv?” She looks at me for a second and moves away, collapsing back into herself. “I’ve been busy,” she says. “Went to Harvard. Lived in New York. Now we’re here.” “Yeah, that sounds like you’ve been busy,” I say, leaning away again, disappointed. I shouldn’t have

pushed, but I couldn’t help myself. “You been home recently?” “No,” she admits. “I got out of there and never looked back.” “Your folks okay?” “They’re fine,” she says. “Dad’s still going to The Raven every other night and Mom’s still annoyed about it.” I can’t help but laugh a little. The Raven’s this awful dive her father loves for whatever reason. My pops preferred drinking in the garage with his buddies while fixing cars. “Good to hear,” I say. “What about you?” she asks. “Your parents still good?” “Mom skipped town a while back, around when we left for school,” I say. “Dad doesn’t seem to mind.” She frowns. “Sorry to hear.” “Don’t be. You know how she was.” She nods a little. “Still, must be hard.” “Thanks, Viv. Good riddance, though.” She smiles a little bit. We both hated my mother.

She was a drunk and an abusive bitch, and I don’t miss her one bit. Although, in retrospect, my mother is part of why I ended up meeting Vivian anyway. “Remember that first day, down at the creek?” I ask her suddenly. “My mom screaming her head off. Remember what you said to me?” She laughs and looks at the ground. “I don’t think about that much anymore.” “You said, ‘Where you going, dummy? Your mom’s calling you.’ And then you stayed out with me until she stopped screaming and I could head back home.” “Yeah, I remember that,” she says. “I thought you were weird. I didn’t understand.” “We were kids,” I say. “I think we were what, ten? Eleven?” “Ten,” she says. “Yeah, well. Kids. We didn’t understand.” “No, I guess not.” She looks at me again and I can see the recognition there, like she’s actually remembering who we used to be to each other. She was my savior when I was a kid. When my mom drank too much, got too drunk, and decided

she wanted to take it out on me, I always ran off to Viv’s house. Her parents aren’t bad people, neglectful and shitty in their own way, but not outright abusive. So we were safe there, at least for a little bit, until I had to go home. From that day onward, Viv was my safe harbor when I was a kid. Eventually I grew up, got big enough that my mom couldn’t try and push me around anymore. She turned it all on my pops instead, giving him shit for always messing with his cars, but he didn’t care at all. Just went right on ignoring her and revving his engines, playing his music, drinking his Coors. He’s probably still in that garage right now, four deep, messing with the carburetor of some junker he got from a buddy. I want to ask her more about home, what she’s been doing, but Billy comes back. He’s had a couple, but he’s not too drunk. “Almost time to board,” he grunts, sitting down next to me. Viv turns back to her phone, and I can tell I lost her. But for a second, we were those kids standing by the creek, ignoring my mother as she screamed for me. That gives me hope. She’s still in there, she just needs to be coaxed out. She just needs to remember what we were to each other. I think I can do that, a bit at a time, but I can get her there.

4

VIVIAN

S

ellersville is about what I expected, but also entirely different.

It’s a short flight from Philly. We land in the Birmingham-Shuttlesworth airport and head through the crowds, a dolly loaded up with equipment cases, until we find the rental car place. The guys stack all the stuff into the back of a white van before we head out, a little cramped, but on our way. The drive is a little awkward. I keep thinking about that short conversation I had with Henry before we got on the plane. I basically ignored him during the flight, not sure what the hell I’m doing with him at all. But for a minute back there, I forgot that he’s the guy who broke my heart, and for a second we

were just those two little kids again, clinging onto each other in a shitty, dying town. I have to admit, he’s impressive. He’s done a lot in his short career, a hell of a lot more than I have. So much for my degree from Harvard. He may not be the one that’s writing the stories and speaking in front of the camera, but we both know how important the producer’s job is. He’s basically the fixer. He’s the all-around guy, the one that gets things done. He does the scheduling, arranges the shoots, helps with storyboarding and flow, and fixes any problems that arise. He’ll even do some editing on the fly as we put the story together. At the end of the day, it’ll be my name on this story, but Henry is going to be incredibly important to what happens here. Which makes me nervous. He’s been around this more than I have, and I suddenly feel a lot of pressure to impress him. I don’t know why, because I should hate him, but instead I want to show him that I haven’t wasted my promise. He was the one that encouraged me to go to Harvard. I didn’t want to, though Harvard was for rich kids and assholes, but he freaked when I told him I wasn’t going to go. Practically yelled at me, told me I’d be wasting an incredible opportunity if I didn’t immediately accept. Back then, all I wanted

was to go to school with him, plan my life with him, but he wasn’t having it. Didn’t matter much, though. He broke up with me a couple months later. In the end, I went to Harvard just to escape our town and to get as far away from Henry as possible. I’m glad I went, it changed my whole life, helped me meet people I never thought I’d meet, really opened up my eyes to the way the world works. But I’ve always had that bruise on my heart, left there by Henry all those years ago. Sellersville itself appears out of nowhere. At first glance, it looks like a cliché small town: lovely houses lined with graceful white picket fences, large, old trees sending dappled sunlight all over the sidewalks, people out walking their dogs and smiling, that sort of thing. But as we got into the center of town, things… changed. Boarded-up buildings. Glass in the street. There are more homeless people here than I expected, and a lot of them are young. Shockingly young, actually. And then there are the groups of young men, white kids with their pickup trucks, bandannas wrapped around their heads. I keep spotting them as we head toward our hotel, gathered around trucks, passing things between them, giving us suspicious looks as we pass. I can’t help but notice that we don’t see a single cop car anywhere in the area, although I spot

at least three guys standing on street corners. “Nice place,” Henry murmurs as we make a left and head west. I can’t help but agree. We arrive at the hotel, a pretty standard Holiday Inn, and I check everyone in while the guys unload the gear. My room is on the third floor, number 321, right in the middle of the hall. As I slide my card through the lock and the door clicks open, I spot Henry coming toward me, lugging a single duffle bag over his shoulder. “Hey, neighbor,” he calls out. I hesitate before going in. “Neighbor?” He grins at me and stops at the door next to mine, number 323. “Right next door. In case you need anything.” I think he winks, but I’m not sure. “Uh, sure, whatever.” “We’re going to be working some long nights, you know,” he says. “I know shit’s a little… weird between us.” I take a sharp breath. I do not want to be having this conversation. “It’s fine,” I say.

“Look, Viv, I just want to say that you’re without a doubt the most talented journalist I’ve worked with.” I hesitate. “How do you know that?” “I read your stuff. Your article about water contamination from firefighting foams was absolutely fantastic.” I turn a little red. That was the second thing I wrote for the Times. It went basically unnoticed, but I poured my heart into that thing. “Thanks,” I say. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to get firefighters to open up.” He grins at me. “I’m not surprised. They protect their own, right?” “Right,” I say, nodding. “I had to work this one guy, kid named Jonny. I think he had a crush on me.” Henry leans up against the wall. “Can you blame him? I doubt there are women like you in his little shithole town.” I glance away. “Quit trying to flatter me.” “Just speaking the truth. And trying to lighten the mood between us.” “There’s no mood between us.” I step back toward

my door. “Come on, Viv. All that shit, it all happened between us. But it’s time to put it all behind us and at least try to work together. Try and make it bearable.” I turn back to him and look into his gorgeous eyes, and I want to tell him the truth. I want to tell him how broken I was back then and how I never quite healed, not really anyway. I’m like a bone that never set properly, always slightly out of alignment, always slightly hurting. Maybe that’s dramatic, maybe I was just a girl back then, and that’s probably true. I moved on, I got over it, and I lived my life. I haven’t been pining for him. But I did learn to hold my emotions closer to my chest. I learned that people can break my heart if I let them, but they can’t if I don’t. I learned to be careful, learned to love slowly, learned to give only as much of myself as I have to. Say what you will about teenage romance, it taught me something, and I never let that lesson go. But I don’t say it. Instead, Trace appears, grinning his goofy boy grin. “Hi, guys,” he says as he unlocks his door. “I hope there’s porn on this thing.” “Don’t order anything, damn it, Trace,” Henry

says, turning away, and the moment is gone. Trace grins as the door shuts and Henry sighs. “Idiot kid,” he mutters. “I’ll see you later,” I say. “I’m going to get settled.” “Yeah, sure. And hey, don’t you be ordering any porn either.” I laugh and roll my eyes at him as I head into my room. Once the door shuts and I’m alone on my lumpy economy queen-sized bed, I can’t help but wonder why the hell Henry is even here. He had to know that I was going to be assigned to this. He clearly has some clout in the company. I saw him in with Greg almost every day, sometimes in there for a couple hours. I don’t know what they were talking about, but Greg clearly values him, especially if he’s been producer on some of the best reporting WBN has done. So why take this assignment? It’s an important topic, one of the most important topics in America today, but it’s not glamorous or exciting. I’m sure there are jobs overseas that would be more suited to him, that would be more taxing and more popular. I don’t get why he’s here, babysitting Trace and the

other crew guys, and flirting with me. If he’s so important and successful, then maybe he should be out doing something more exciting. Maybe it’s because of me. I hate having that thought, I know how self-centered it is, but I can’t help it. It makes no sense for Henry to be assigned to this, unless he wanted to be assigned with me. Which just opens up a million more questions and makes my head spin. I can’t let myself fall down that rabbit hole. I put my suitcase on the bed and start to unpack. Since we’ll be there for a couple weeks at least, I’m going to at least make this room a little bearable and not live out of a suitcase. Meanwhile, I keep thinking about Henry, about him right on the other side of that wall, wondering what he’s doing and thinking and why the hell he’s here.

5

HENRY

I

give Viv and the crew the first night off. It’s customary, at least for me, to let them settle in and get a feel for the town. I spend the afternoon and early evening calling contacts, shoring up the schedule, and generally prepping for the coming work. Trace, Miller, and Bill all head out to a local watering hole to get a feel for things. At least that’s what they tell me, since technically WBN will be paying. I know they’re actually just going to get fucking hammered and tell stupid war stories all night, but that’s fine by me. I want my crew happy and bonded. I wish Viv went with them, but I can’t force her to go. Instead, she stays in her room all night. I knock on her door at

around eight and invite her to dinner, but she declines, citing some bullshit excuse. I don’t press and end up eating alone in my room watching old reruns of Chopped. The next morning, we’re up nice and early. The boys are moving slowly, but Viv is already downstairs, dressed and prepped by seven, sipping on awful hotel coffee. “What’s on the schedule for today?” she asks as I approach her. She’s wearing a simple gray dress with some jewelry for flair. She looks understated and professional, but still fucking gorgeous. And she knows exactly what’s up for today. “You’re meeting with Doctor Sawyer,” I say. “Addiction Specialist at Sellersville General.” “Right,” she prepped?”

says,

nodding.

“Questions

all

I nod and pull a paper from my binder. “Here you go. Feel free to wander off script if the interview’s going well.” “What do you expect from this?” she asks as I sit down across from her. I shrug. “Honestly, not much. They’ll give us some nice general filler, but you never get good stuff from the professionals. They don’t want to risk

their career by possibly saying something worth saying.” She smiles at me and cocks her head. “Is that coming from experience?” I grin back at her. “Sure is.” Trace and Miller appear and sit down, obviously hungover. “Bill’s outside,” Trace says. “Why?” I ask him. “Puking in the bushes.” I groan and stand up, checking my watch. “Come on, let’s get going. Bill better get his shit together.” “Always does,” Trace says. We head outside and Viv falls into step beside me. “Bill’s puking?” she asks softly. “Drinks too much, but he’s solid,” I say back. “Don’t worry.” She gives me a tight nod and seems reassured. Truth is, I’ve never heard of Bill puking in the bushes before, which worries me a bit. We find Bill standing next to the van, smoking a cigarette. “You good, man?” Trace calls out.

He gives us the thumbs up. “Fucking moonshine,” he says. “Don’t drink fucking moonshine.” He looks puffy and tired, but otherwise okay. “Good advice,” I say. “Let’s roll out.” We get into the van and head out to the hospital. The guys in the back are surprisingly quiet, probably because Bill is trying his hardest not to puke again and Miller doesn’t talk much anyway. Viv is busy going over her notes, which is good, so I just concentrate on driving. We get there pretty fast and reception shows up to the doctor’s office on the fifth floor. The guys get to work, setting up lighting and mic’ing up the doctor while I prep her for the interview. Meanwhile, Viv is quietly going over her notes, giving me only a tight smile when I ask how she’s doing. I can tell she’s nervous, and that’s fine. I can’t blame her. This is the first interview she’s doing for WBN and while it’s basically a layup, she’s still uncertain. I do everything I can to help her get set up, and when things are ready, we get the cameras into position, and we get started. “Okay, Dr. Sawyer,” Vivian says once we’re rolling. “We’ll start with some simple questions about you and your practice, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Sawyer says, smiling. “Please, call me Linda.” “Okay Linda. How long have you been practicing medicine?” I have to admit, I’m impressed. As soon as it’s time to perform, Vivian is all business. Gone is the nervous girl not wanting to speak, and in her place is the consummate professional. I was a little worried that she might be tongue-tied or too nervous to really get a good interview out of the doctor, but she’s falling into stride like a professional runner. Viv knows she likely isn’t going to appear on screen in the final piece, but she comports herself like she’s going to be. I didn’t expect that, to be honest. She’s going to be the voice that guides the viewer, but we’ll likely never actually see her. She’s just meant to guide the narrative behind the scenes, and then we’ll stitch it all together in post. But she’s taking control of the interview and leading Dr. Sawyer exactly where she wants her to go. Usually doctors and professionals like to fall into jargon terms and to hide their real opinions behind science or long strings of facts, but Viv is doing an exceptional job at teasing out the meaning behind that Sawyer is trying to say.

I’m reminded all over again of how impressive Vivian really is. I mean, I knew she was smart and capable, but actually seeing it in person… it reminds me of how things used to be. I was always in awe of her back then. Top of our class, sharp as a fucking tack, she ran circles around everyone with pretty much no effort. I’m smart, don’t get me wrong, but she makes me look downright dim compared to her sometimes, and it’s something I’ve always loved about her. But she’s humble, never wanted to make people feel stupid, never wanted to brag. She inspired me though, always made me want to be better. She’s why I got into journalism. I can’t recall what made her want to do it in the first place, but that was her dream, ever since we were kids. When I got to college at Michigan, buried in student loans and struggling just to get by, I decided to go into journalism, too. I knew that if Viv thought it was important then I should too. Slowly, I fell in love with it, and the rest is history. But originally, I was drawn to journalism because I knew she loved it, and I knew she was studying it. Maybe that’s odd, to devote your life to something because an ex-girlfriend thought it was a good idea. But I’ve always held onto Viv, never wanted to let her go in the first place, and getting into journalism

was a way to feel close to her again. And look how far she’s come. I catch glimpses of the girl she used to be in the way she twirls her hair when she’s nervous or stressed, in some of her little speaking habits, in the way she bites her lower lip when she’s thinking. But she’s also a woman now, strong and capable, and I can’t help but find it attractive as hell. The interview finishes, and I’m totally blown away. It went so much better than I could have possibly guessed. The guys pack up their stuff, having done their jobs just like I knew they would, despite the hangovers. We thank the doctor and load the van back up in the parking garage. “You guys should go grab something to eat,” I say once we’re finished. “I’ll hang back and take a look at the footage.” “Roger that, boss,” Trace says. “What are you guys thinking? Some greasy ass burgers?” “Yes,” Bill says seriously. “Greasier the better. Gotta line my stomach for that moonshine.” I give him a look. “Didn’t you say you don’t want to drink that stuff again?” He grins and shrugs. “That was hours ago. I’m feeling like a new man.”

I groan. “Trace, don’t let him get too drunk.” “You got it,” he says and the guys start to head out. Miller pauses as they’re leaving. “He’ll be fine,” he says to me. “I’ll make sure.” I nod to him. “Thanks, Miller.” He nods back and hurries to catch up with them. I sigh, shaking my head. I know I don’t really have to worry, but they can drive me crazy sometimes. I worked with Bill in Afghanistan, and he was the most reliable man I knew out there, but he has a partying streak to him, and sometimes he can’t turn it off, despite being older. I turn back to the van and spot Viv leaning up against it. “Not going with them?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “I want to see the footage.” I grin at her. “First time’s always the hardest.” “That wasn’t my first interview,” she points out. “Still. First time in front of a new crew. Always a little awkward.” “Yeah,” she admits, a little grudgingly. I grab my laptop out of the back and hook it up to the camera. “You did good though,” I say to her.

“Seriously, you did really good. I was impressed.” She cracks a little smile. “Thanks.” “Really. There’s a reason Greg hired you, you know.” “Oh yeah?” She cocks her head as I pull up the footage. “Yeah. He’s got a good eye for talent, gotta give him that.” “Of course he does. He hired you, after all.” I grin at her and she nudges me with her shoulder. We both laugh as I pull up her interview and we go through it together. There’s not much to say. There are a few tiny things I critique, and she takes it in stride. She suggests some editing spots, but overall it’s really clean and straightforward. Once we’re done, I shut the laptop and we sit on the edge of the back of the van together. “How’d you end up doing this?” she asks me, breaking the comfortable silence. “What, working for WBN?” “No, I mean, producing in general.”

I shrug a little. “Did journalism at Michigan. I was interested in the TV side though so I took a bunch of production courses, ended up getting a minor and a bunch of certificates, which I guess is what lead me here.” “I didn’t know you were into it,” she admits. “You weren’t back then, at least. Did you ever read?” I laugh and shrug a little. “I read descriptions of movies. Does that count?” “Nope,” she says. “Guess I came to it late. I mean, I’m not a writer.” “Explains the production.” She grins at me and I know she’s joking around. “You’re right though,” I say. “I can’t do what you do. Guess that’s why we’re such a good team.” “Are we a good team? I thought I was doing all the hard work.” I laugh and hop down off the van. “Hardly. You asked a few questions and didn’t fall off your chair. I’m the backbone of this operation.” “Oh, is that what I do?” She quirks an eyebrow at me, but she’s smiling. “You have to look pretty while you do it too, of

course,” I say. She hops off the back and smacks my arm. “Be professional,” she says, but I just laugh. She used to hit me like that all the time back in the day. “I’m very professional. Just telling it like it is.” She hesitates. “I looked good though, right?” I grin at her. “You looked fucking great. You’re really all grown up.” “Thanks,” she says, looking away, but I can tell she’s blushing. The guys come back, fortunately sober. We all climb into the van and head back to the hotel. I have some editing work to do, and the guys’ll get another night off to go partying. In the morning though, we have more work. I just hope I can stop thinking about Vivian in that hot little dress long enough to concentrate on what I have to do.

6

VIVIAN

T

he more I see Henry in action, the more impressed I am.

He’s professional and serious, and he clearly knows how to run this operation. The crew clearly looks up to him, even though two of them are older than he is. He knows just what to say to me to make me feel less nervous, and he seems to know when I just need to be left alone. He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s handsome, and he makes me feel like a kid again. That’s such a cliché, of course, but I haven’t felt this heart-thumping rush of excitement to be around a person since… well, since I last was with him. That night, after the first interview, I do some Googling. Henry went to Michigan and got a

Master’s at Notre Dame. He’s been with WBN ever since, and he produced some of their best work. The guy really is a serious media vet already, and he’s barely a few months older than I am. The Henry I remember didn’t care about any of this. The Henry I remember wasn’t the most driven or idealistic person in the world, although he was always really smart. His parents didn’t encourage his education, when they bothered to pay any attention to him at all. His father wanted him to be a mechanic, and it seemed like he was going to skip college entirely. I wanted to go to school nearby, so that we wouldn’t have to do a long distance relationship, but that was before he broke up with me. Still, I know he wanted to get out of that little town and do something, but I never dreamed he’d end up doing this. I never pictured him as the kind of guy that would put his life on the line for a story, the way he did in Afghanistan. I always knew he was capable, but I never knew he wanted it. And now look at him. He says I’m all grown up, but he’s the one that’s changed. I keep seeing the way he looked at me just after the interview. We were breaking down the lighting and I was making small talk with Linda Sawyer. I caught him looking at me when he thought I

wouldn’t notice, and I saw something in his expression that surprises me. It was an intense desire… the way he used to look at me when we were kids, before he broke my heart. I’ll never forget that look. It always made me feel like the only girl in the entire world. And it still has that effect. Maybe even more powerful now, since it’s coming from a man instead of the boy he used to be. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I know I was flirting with him back at the van, even though I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t help myself. He makes me smile and laugh, makes me comfortable even when I don’t want to feel comfortable. I want that anger back, that anger I felt when I first saw him, but it’s slowly fading away. He was right after all, yesterday in the hall. We need to put the past behind us and learn to work together. We have no other choice. I go to sleep early and get up early the next morning, even though our next appointment isn’t until the midafternoon. The guys are all sleeping when I get up and go for a jog through Sellersville. I probably shouldn’t be out alone, but I can’t help myself. It reminds me so much of our old town. I know this place is dangerous, despite looking like a

normal suburb. There’s a cancer lurking underneath the surface, slowly eating away at the people. I notice a couple of homeless guys already out, although the sun is barely rising. I don’t feel like I’m in danger, but I don’t feel safe, either. It’s a strange feeling, like I’m being watched. When I get back to the hotel, Henry is in the lobby, pouring himself some coffee from the little continental breakfast. He looks up as I walk in, the air conditioning blasting against my sweaty skin, giving me the slight chills. Or maybe that’s his handsome eyes, drilling into my body. “Morning,” he says to me, a little smile on his face. “Went for a run?” I nod. “Keeps me fresh,” I say. “Good. Just be safe out there.” I can’t help but notice that he’s checking me out, and normally it would piss me off, but I don’t mind it. I’m wearing short, tight running shorts, and my top is slightly damp. I think I look good and I’m not ashamed to let him stare. “Boys are still asleep,” he says to me after a beat. “I’m not surprised. What time did they leave last night?”

“Ten,” he says. “I don’t know how they do it.” “You sound like an old man. Bill is twice your age, at least.” “Yeah, well. I’m old at heart.” He grins at me and sips his coffee. “This stuff is awful.” I laugh and make a face. “I know. But it’s free, so what can you do?” He sips it again. “Anyway, I’m going for a walk. I’ll catch up with you later.” “Sure.” He nods at me and heads out the front door. I watch him for a second, wondering what he’s doing, but I let it go. Instead, I head upstairs, shower, and prep for the upcoming work.

THE CHURCH IS AIR CONDITIONED , but it’s barely keeping up with the heat. They have fans set up in the corner, blowing tepid air over our skin, as the guys get their lighting and sound rigged up. The girls are all around my age, but they look older. Not in their skin or anything, maybe their teeth if I had to point at something physical, but really it’s in the way they hold themselves. Like they’re all drawn in on themselves, closed off, shut down.

There’s a weight that doesn’t seem to go away, not even when they laugh and smile, which Henry seems to be able to make them do effortlessly. I get back to my notes, not letting it get to me. They’re subjects, after all. He has to be nice to them, get them feeling comfortable, prep them for my questions. We’re interviewing some ex-addicts, women that got hooked on opioids, mainly fentanyl. Narcotics Anonymous is supposed to be anonymous, of course, it’s built right into the name, but a lot of ex-addicts like to try and help others. Doing an interview for our story is one way for them to reach out. “How you feeling?” I look up and Henry’s standing there, smiling down at me. “Fine,” I say. I shift a little in my seat and he pulls up an old beat-up metal folding chair. He sits and crosses his legs. “First girl’s name is Ashley, nice girl. Lean on her,” he says. “The other one’s named Renee, but she’s a quitter. Harder to draw out. I think you’ll get your best stuff from Ashley.” “Okay,” I say. I glance over at the girls. One’s blonde, about my height, but skeletally thin. I think

she’s Ashley. The other’s the polar opposite: short, heavier, dark hair. “How’d this even happen?” I ask him, wondering aloud, not really expecting an answer. He seems to know what I mean. “Hard to say. Too many doctors prescribing too many painkillers, maybe. Huge lack of education on the dangers of it.” I shake my head. “Can’t just be that. There’s got to be a human angle.” He gives me a strange look. “That’s what I was thinking.” I smile at him. “Always is, isn’t there? Human angle?” “That’s what we’re here for, I guess.” “Yeah. You’re right.” I stare into his eyes and he puts his hand on my leg. His palm is large and warm and it’s further up my thigh than is really professional, but I don’t mind it. In fact, it feels damn good. “You’re going to do great,” he says seriously. “Yeah, thanks,” I say, heart hammering. I suddenly have the insane desire for him to slide his hand up a

little further, to push the hem of my dress up over my hips, to feel my warm, wet little pussy. But he pulls way his hand and stands. “We’re going in five,” he says. “I’m ready.” He nods and heads off to prep everyone else. I stare after him, chills running down my spine. I don’t know what the hell that was. Putting his hand on my leg was so familiar, it’s like something he would have done years ago, but now… it’s inappropriate. It’s maybe even a little wrong. And it felt so damn good. I shake my head and take a deep breath. I can’t get too rattled. I turn back to my notes, and soon I’m sitting under the lights, running through the interview. Things go smoothly from there, but I can’t shake that nagging feeling about Henry. I can’t stop thinking about his hand on my leg, and what it meant, and how it made me feel. I’m trying to be as present as possible in the interview, and I think it goes down as well as can be expected, but still. When we’re done, I practically can’t look at Henry without thinking about his hands on my bare skin.

We break it all down and pack it all up. The girls thank us, we leave them our contact information and ask them to spread the word about our piece. The guys pack the van up, and just as they finish, Billy comes back with a frown on his face. “What’s up?” Henry asks him. “Something weird,” he says. “Bunch of guys, gangbanger types.” Henry’s whole disposition suddenly shifts. He goes from loose and relaxed to serious, like a tiger poised to jump. “Where?” he asks. “Across the street. Four of them. Just watching.” Billy seems serious too. They’re speaking fast, like it’s in code. Like they’ve done this before. “Come on,” Henry says to me. “Let’s head back to the hotel.” “Is everything okay?” I ask him as we walk out of the church, Billy in the lead. “Gangs run this town,” Henry says softly. “And they’re not going to be happy about a bunch of journalists poking around. I doubt they’d do anything, but still…” He trails off, looking across the street.

The sunlight is nearly blinding, but quickly I adjust and I spot the guys. Just as Billy said, there are four of them, all standing around a beat-up truck and staring directly at us. They don’t move or act surprised when we look back at them. They’re young, probably in their early twenties, wearing baggy clothes and Confederate flag bandanas. “Come on,” Henry says. “Let’s go.” We get into the van and he starts it up. Trace and Miller are already in there, sitting quietly and watching the gang members. We drive out into traffic, and the gang guys don’t do a thing. They just stand there, watching us. I’m totally creeped out, and I have a bad feeling for the rest of the drive back. We go in silence, and I can tell Henry is brooding a little bit. When we park at the hotel, he turns to me as the guys climb out. “Don’t let that bother you,” he says to me. “They were just trying to intimidate us.” “Did it work?” I ask him. He grins at me. “I’ve seen much, much worse. Still, we should be careful.” I nod. “Okay. Whatever you say, boss.” He grins at that. “I like hearing that from you.”

I roll my eyes. “I was joking. Don’t get all excited.” “Can’t help myself, I guess.” I laugh and feel more at ease already. He has that effect on me, always making me feel more comfortable, even when I don’t want to feel comfortable. We head back to the hotel, but I can’t get Henry out of my mind. Everything he does drives deeper inside of me, and I feel things waking up, things I thought were dead and buried. I need to concentrate on my work. I can’t let myself get entangled with him, not so easily.

7

HENRY

T

he ratty bar is called The Floorstander, although I have no clue why. There are no speakers anywhere, and I’ve never heard the term “floorstander” applied to anything but big home theater loudspeakers. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter, but it’s just one more thing about this town that doesn’t make sense. “He’s over there.” Miller leans against the bar. “End of the bar, flat brim hat. Take a look.” Slowly I turn my gaze in the direction Miller’s indicating. I spot a guy, maybe in his early thirties, sitting alone and sipping a beer. He’s wearing a flatbrimmed hat that’s completely black, no logos or lettering, and a plain white button-down shirt. He

looks like a cross between a gangster and a day trader. “You think he’ll help?” I ask him. Miller just shrugs and sips his beer. I figure that’s about all I’ll get out of him, which is fine by me. I left Trace and Bill behind, since I’m afraid they’d be a little too obnoxious. I take a deep breath and finish my whisky. “Be back soon,” I say. “And if not, tell my story.” Miller nods and doesn’t smile at my joke. I sigh and stand up, patting him on the back before slowly ambling down toward the guy in the hat. The crew went out again last night after we got back from interviewing the NA girls. They ended up here at the Floorstander, got good and drunk, but one good thing came of it: they met this guy. Apparently he’s a local, which doesn’t surprise me. It’s two in the afternoon and he’s already sitting here, drinking a beer, completely alone. Plus, I doubt many tourists come to Sellersville, let alone to the Floorstander. I sidle up next to him and sit down at the open stool to his right. “What’re you drinking?” I ask him casually.

He glances at me. “Not interested,” he says. I smirk at him. “Not asking for that reason, buddy. If only you’d be so lucky.” He turns halfway toward me. “Do I know you?” “Nope,” I say. “My name’s Henry. I’m a reporter doing a little story on your town.” He gives me that same look everyone gives me when I tell them I’m a reporter. He looks suspicious and mildly defensive, like I’m looking to get him in trouble or some shit like that. I don’t know what it is with this country and hating journalists, but we’re the people trying to find the truth buried in all the lies we’re constantly forced to read. “Like I said, not interested.” He turns back to his drink. “I just want to ask you some simple questions. Just trying to get a sense of this place, you know?” “I don’t know shit. So please fuck off.” I glance at Miller who gives me a nod. I sigh and lean forward. “Fifty bucks,” I say to him. “That’ll get you talking?” He hesitates. “What do you want to know about?” “One thing, really. There’s a group of guys always

around town, gangster looking guys. What’s their deal?” My hat-wearing friend’s face goes a bit dark. “You shouldn’t ask about them. Not in this town.” “Why’s that?” He leans back, arms crossed. “You’re liable to get your ass killed.” I raise an eyebrow. “That dangerous, huh?” “They’re called the Strips, and they don’t fuck around.” “Strips?” I ask. “Not a badass name.” “They got it from the strips of fentanyl they sell. And that’s all I can say.” “How many people do they have?” “Do I look like fucking Google? I don’t know and I don’t want to know. I keep my head down and I don’t fuck with them. So like I said, that’s all I’ll say.” I look at him for a second then nod. “Okay then. Thanks.” I push back from the bar and stand. “Wait,” he says, turning to me. “My fifty bucks.” I snort. “You told me shit.”

“Hey, asshole.” I turn to go but he grabs my arm. “Wait, okay, hold on. There’s a rumor that they bought a politician. Everyone kind of knows it, right, since they don’t get arrested? Fucked up shit in this town.” I frown. “Is that true?” “Fuck if I know. Probably not, but it’s what people say. Now come on, fifty bucks.” I reach into my pocket and pull out his money. I can smell the desperation rolling off him and I suspect he’s going to go running to the Strips as soon as we leave here to get his next fix. “Don’t overdose,” I say as he takes the cash from me. “Sure, whatever.” I walk away and motion for Miller to join me. We head back out into the parking lot, get into the van, and drive back to the hotel. I can’t stop thinking about the look on that guy’s face as he told me about the bought politician. It was like he believed what he was saying, even though it’s pretty crazy to imagine that a small-time drug dealing outfit could bribe someone powerful. I know this town is corrupt and rotting from the inside but that’s still pretty insane. Still, that’s at least decent information. I have a

name and I can assume that they have a pretty powerful hold on this town. It’s a nice little bonus that they’re the ones dealing the opioids, makes my job a little bit easier. And it would explain why they were watching us at the church. Gangs don’t like journalists poking around in their illegal activities. For obvious reasons. I head back to my room and get to work. I’m going through the footage of the church interview, doing minor edits, that sort of thing. After a little bit, I hear a knock at my door that pulls me back into reality. I head over and open it, expecting to see Trace there, but instead it’s Vivian. “Heard you had a meeting,” she says to me. I shrug a little. “Just some local guy.” “What did you find out?” For a second, paranoia strikes. “Come inside,” I say, tugging her by the hand. She doesn’t resist. I shut the door behind her and we head into my room. She sits on the chair and I sit at the end of the bed. “Basic stuff,” I say to her. “Just what the gang’s called and what they do. And some rumor that they bought off a politician.”

She frowns a bit more. I love the creases next to her eyes, the way her lips pout outwards. “That can’t be true, right?” “Who knows,” I say with a sigh. “We’ll have to verify it. I mean, we can’t report that before getting the truth.” “You’re right,” I say. “Solid ethics right there.” “Thanks.” She crosses her arms. “What are you doing there?” She nods at my laptop. “Edits on the church. Want to help?” She nods and sits behind me as I start playback again. We fall into a comfortable rhythm, working on the job, and eventually I grab a couple drinks from the minibar. A few hours pass as we sip the cheap vodka from plastic cups, and I’m feeling a little loose. She leans up against some pillows and watches me as I go through a particular part of the interview, frame by frame. “Does she look a little… I don’t know… stiff here?” I ask. Viv shrugs. “I think you’re being a little too anal.” I sigh. “Can’t help it. I’m a perfectionist sometimes.”

“Not such a bad thing.” She chews on the rim of her plastic cup. “Can be. Perfection is impossible. So I’m just always…” I trail off a little bit. “Frustrated?” she finishes. “Exactly.” “You weren’t always this way.” She cocks her head and finishes her drink. “In fact, I remember a guy that was pretty okay with good enough.” I laugh a little. “I was different back then.” “Yeah,” she says. “I guess we’ve all changed.” “But I’m the same in a lot of ways.” I shift toward her. “For example, I’m still obsessed with Oreos.” Her eyes go wide. “Are you kidding?” “Not at all. They’re still my guilty pleasure.” She cracks up laughing. When we were kids, I used to eat Oreo cookies constantly. I was, like, obsessed with them. I’d go through a package a week almost, and she’d always wonder about how I didn’t get fat. Truth is, I had to stop eating so many of them in college. Every now and then though, I love me a good Oreo.

“Glad to hear some things never change,” she says, grinning at me. “What about you? I know you’ve changed, but what’s stayed the same?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she says, looking at the ceiling. “Ugh, god, okay. I still watch Big Brother.” “No way,” I say. “You’re joking? That’s still on?” “Sure is,” she says. “I can’t help it. I’m, like, too invested now.” “It has to be on season thirty or something.” “I don’t look at the season numbers,” she says. “It’s way too depressing.” I lean toward her and put my hand casually on her leg as we fall into a conversation about growing up together. She laughs and runs her hand through her hair as I recall one particular weekend she watched an entire season of Big Brother. “I had the flu,” she says, laughing at me. “Still, an entire season in two days? That’s too much.” “You’re just jealous.” “Hardly.” I squeeze her thigh and she doesn’t

knock me off. For a second, we’re staring into each other’s eyes. I remember exactly how it felt to kiss those lips, exactly what it meant when she let me touch her like this. Things always moved further from here, always ended up with my hands down the front of her jeans, making her feel good. But we’re not kids anymore. She glances at the clock. “It’s already eight,” she says, sighing. “And I’m starving.” “You want to grab dinner?” “No, thanks,” she says, getting off the bed. I frown down at the spot where my hand was just on her leg. “I’ll grab something and eat in my room. I’ve got some stuff to do.” “Sure,” I say. “Sounds good.” She hesitates. “Today was fun,” she admits. “It’s good working with you.” “I know,” I say, smirking at her. She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ruin it, asshole.” “It’s good working with you, too,” I admit. “I know.” She laughs and leaves the room.

I watch the door for a bit, not sure what I’m feeling. She’s loosening up toward me, I can feel the hatred and the anger slowly burning off, but I don’t know what that means for the long-term. I don’t know if it’s just because we’re working together, or if she’s starting to feel everything I’m starting to feel. It’s impossible to say. And it doesn’t help that this job is getting a little dangerous, what with the Strips watching out for us. I know I need to have my guard up, but she’s so damn distracting. All I can think about it taking her back to my room and fucking her sweet, tight pussy deep and rough until her fingernails dig into the skin of my back.

8

VIVIAN

I

keep thinking about the way he touches me, so casual and so easy, like we’re kids again. But we’re not kids, and I can’t let myself fall into that trap. We’re coworkers. That’s all we are these days. We have to work on this story together and then we’ll be done. I’ll do another story and probably work with a different producer. Henry isn’t a permanent fixture in my life, or at least I don’t think so. What’s so wrong about enjoying him, though? He’s tall, muscular, handsome, rugged, smart, capable, talented, accomplished, and that’s pretty much just the surface stuff. He’s also pointedly funny and he knows me so well that it’s almost scary. And we both believe in the same things and are dedicating

our lives to the same pursuit. I mean, that’s all I’ve ever wanted in a man and way, way more. The problem’s simple, though. Getting involved with a coworker is stupid, and getting involved with an ex is even stupider. Henry’s both of those things, which means he’s twice as off limits. Which somehow, maddeningly, insanely, makes him even more attractive. The next day, after basically hiding out from him in my room, we have an easy interview at a nonprofit for addicts in the area. As we arrive at their stale and boring office park, I find myself paying more attention to Henry than I do to the men I’m supposed to be interviewing. Henry moves with this quiet confidence that surprises me. The crew looks up to him, which I attributed to his success in this career, but it’s more than that. Every new person we meet seems drawn toward him, although he’s not particularly outgoing or anything. He has this gravitas about him. It’s this strange weight, like you want to make him happy, make him proud of you. He seems to dominate a room with his presence. When he speaks, people want to

pay attention. I’m staring at him as he’s helping one of the workers set up his mic, and I hear Trace clear his throat. “Uh, Viv? Did you hear me?” I come back to reality. “No, sorry, what was that?” He grins at me. “You were staring at him, weren’t you?” My eyes go wide. “Excuse me?” “Never mind.” He grins at me, his goofy boyish grin, and my heart beats fast. There’s no way he noticed me watching Henry. “Just wanted to let you know that the cameras are all ready, so we’re about to get started.” “Right, okay. Thanks, Trace.” “Sure thing.” He gives me another goofy look before heading back over to his equipment. I pull myself together and dive into the interview. I don’t so much as glance in Henry’s direction for the rest of the afternoon, which is probably even more obvious than if I were staring at him. I can’t help myself, though. Trace really rattled me. I don’t want this to become a thing. I really don’t

need the crew to start whispering about Henry and me. This is my first story with WBN, and I can’t risk this job. I moved all the way to Philadelphia, I gave up a lot to be here. This is my dream job, or at least it can be if I put in the work and make it happen for myself. I had a life back in New York. I had friends and while I was a freelancer, I had work. There were Chinese food places, bodegas, bars and more that I loved, and I gave it all up to move. I gave it all up for this job, and I can’t risk ruining it for some stupid crush. I don’t even know if it’s a crush. I don’t know what the heck I’m feeling for Henry. Maybe it’s a crush, I don’t know. It’s definitely an attraction, and I can’t deny it. Even if he broke my heart all those years ago, it was still a long time ago, and we’ve both changed a lot. We’ve both grown up. The interview ends, overall an average afternoon of shooting. We have decent film, and Henry seems pleased with it all. We break down the equipment and head back to the hotel. “You know what, guys,” Henry says as we pull into the spot. “I think we should celebrate a little bit.”

“Celebrate?” I ask him. “Sure. We had a good day today.” He turns and looks back at the crew. “What do you think, guys? Dinner on WBN?” “Yes and yes,” Bill says. “Please and thanks.” “Always in for free food,” Trace calls out. Miller just shrugs, which is basically a resounding yes. I sigh. “Sure,” I say, “Why not?” Henry grins at me. “Good. A little team bonding.” He kills the engine. “You guys get this shit upstairs. I’ll find a place.” “Roger that, boss,” Trace says as they pile out. I give Henry a little smile. “They like you, you know,” I say softly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “They like free food,” he corrects. “No, it’s you,” I say, and want to go on, but Trace throws open the back door and interrupts me. Henry gives me a little shrug and ambles back into the hotel. I help the guys carry stuff upstairs, all the while trying to understanding their undying loyalty, all the unspoken things that make Henry the man that he is.

We end up going to this big red sauce Italian place just a couple blocks away. We get a table in the back under a mural of some peasant farmers planting tomatoes or something like that. Bill orders pitchers of beer for the table and I laugh as he pours everyone a drink. “To the opioid epidemic,” Bill says, raising his glass. “May it rot in hell forever.” “Here, here,” I say, and the drinking commences. I can’t keep up with the crew, and I don’t even bother to try. I’d rather keep my wits about me, at any rate. They keep pushing more drinks on Henry and he keeps folding. He ends up ordering way too much food for the whole table, and we end up with a mountain of stuff as the guys dig in. “This is the life,” Trace says seriously. “Big piles of pasta and never-ending beer.” “The beer isn’t never-ending,” Henry says. “Sure it is, son,” Bill replies, patting Trace on the back. “For you, it’ll never end.” “Thanks, Bill. Henry’s always too worried about the budget.” Trace winks at him. “Someone’s gotta be,” he grunts, sipping his beer. “Otherwise you idiots would drink the whole site

out of existence.” “That’s an exaggeration,” Bill says to me, leaning over to whisper loudly. “But we’d sure as hell try.” I laugh and sip my drink, genuinely enjoying myself. I haven’t felt part of a team like this in a long time. Working as a freelancer is good and all, I can set my own hours and I don’t have a boss, but I’m alone most of the time. That can be pretty hard. I always made it a point to get out of the house at least once every day, even if it was just to go for a jog or something. But here, I don’t have to worry about being alone. The five of us are in this together. When we first got here, I felt like I was separate from them, different somehow, probably because I’m new and they’ve all worked together at least once or twice before. But the more we work together, the more comfortable I feel. The guys always go out of their way to make me comfortable, always make sure I know what’s going on with the lighting and the sound rigs. I don’t know if they normally do that with their journalist, and I suspect that Henry has some small hand in that. But it feels good. And so I eat too much pasta and drink another beer.

“I remember out in Afghanistan,” Bill says, leaning toward me. “Henry and I were up in the hills with a Marine detachment. It’s the middle of the fucking night, middle of the fucking desert, and we’re just in these big armored Humvees.” I glance at Henry and he sighs. “Don’t listen to him,” he says. “He exaggerates.” “Scout’s honor,” Bill says. “Anyway, we’re sleeping, or trying to. The Marines are all dead asleep but I’m awake, like, freaking out, afraid of an attack at any second. Of course, we weren’t anywhere near a danger zone, but still, I’m terrified.” I can picture it: dark, cramped Humvee, snoring soldiers, the constant sense of impending doom. I don’t know how anyone could sleep in that, much less someone with zero experience. Bill slugs his drink and continues. “So I’m awake, and I hear this noise. It’s like… a clicking. And it takes me a second to realize that it’s coming from the Humvee next to ours, the one that Henry’s supposed to be in. They split us up for some reason. “So I look out the window, and I see this shape on the roof. Takes me a second to realize, but it’s fucking Henry, sitting on the roof of their vehicle and taking pictures.”

I look at Henry, eyes wide. “Really?” He shrugs, a smile on his face. “The moon was full. I got some gorgeous shots.” “In a fucking war zone, he’s out in the open, taking fucking pictures. While everyone else is asleep. I watched him do that for like ten minutes before one of the guys in the Humvee dragged him back down. The Colonel was pissed as all hell, but Henry here didn’t mind.” “Like I said, good pictures.” Henry yawns. “Plus, that guy was an asshole.” “What’d you call him?” Bill asks. “Colonel Blowhard.” They burst out laughing and I grin at the two of them. I can’t help but stare at Henry with a little awe. That’s the sort of war story you hear about from other people and wonder if it’s true, but I can tell that really happened. And it’s absolutely incredible. “Hey, is that pinball?” Trace stands up suddenly, a little wobbly. “Hell, fucking yes, it is. Come on, Miller.” Trace and Miller charge across the restaurant toward an ancient pinball machine lodged in the far corner. Henry watches them go with a scowl on his face.

“Better make sure they don’t get us kicked out,” he grumbles, standing. “Don’t tell her anymore bullshit stories, okay, Bill?” Bill nods and pours another drink. “Scout’s honor.” Henry rolls his eyes and heads after Trace and Miller. I sip my drink and Bill looks at me with a little smile. “How long have you known him?” he asks me. I’m a little surprised. “What do you mean?” “I see the way you two talk to each other. Like you’ve been friends for years.” I hesitate for a second, but I might as well tell him. “We knew each other growing up,” I admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “I figured he was a college buddy. You’re the same age, right?” “Right,” I say. “But no, we knew each other in grade school and high school. We were pretty good friends back then.” “What happened?” he asks, watching me over his beer. “You know,” I say vaguely, waving my hand. “Life got in the way. We grew apart.”

“Ah,” he says, smiling at me. “I get it. So that’s why you look at him like that.” “What?” I ask, turning red. “It’s okay,” he says. “Shit, if I were a woman, I’d be into Henry there. He’s a good man. One of the best I know in this business, and I’ve been doing this a long time.” “It’s not like that,” I say quickly. “We’re just friends from a long time ago.” “Sure,” he says, “I understand. Whatever you want. But listen, I don’t know what happened between you two, maybe you did just drift apart. Just saying, people change. You haven’t stayed the same, have you?” I watch him, surprised at how perceptive he’s being. I figured Bill was something of a kindly drunk, probably an alcoholic but high functioning. I figured there wasn’t much more to him. Obviously, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have judged him so quickly, and I feel guilty for that almost immediately. “I guess I haven’t,” I say to him. “Nobody does. Anyway, Henry’s a good guy.” He raises his glass. “And your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” I ask him, panicking a bit. But Henry comes back to the table, frowning. “We gotta go,” he says. “Trace just stumbled into a plant and knocked it on the ground.” I look over toward the pinball machine and sure enough, there are Miller and Trace on their hands and knees putting potting soil back into a large, palm-like indoor plant’s pot. Henry drops down a wad of cash for the bill and we stand. I want to talk more with Bill, explain that it’s not the way he thinks it is, that I’m not into Henry. But I can’t, because we hustle out of there before Trace can get in more trouble. He’s drunk as hell, of course, and he sings the whole way back. First it’s Britney Spears, but quickly it turns into a garbled version of Frank Sinatra. “When the moon hits your eyes like a big pizza pie, that’s amore,” Trace croons. “That’s not Sinatra,” Bill says. “You racist.” “Racist?” Trace shoots back. “That’s not racist.” “You think all Italians sing the same songs. Seems racist to me.” “Ain’t racist,” Trace mutters and Bill cracks up,

clearly just messing with him. We get back to the hotel, and Henry helps Trace back inside. I head back to my room, telling the others goodnight as Miller and Bill head back to Bill’s room for another drink. Once in my room, I stare down at my hands and I wonder what the hell I’m doing. Bill can see right through me, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not so bad to feel this way for Henry. He’s clearly a good guy. But that story… it’s haunting me. That was a reckless thing for Henry to do, but also a brave thing, and a beautiful one. I’ve never done anything like that before. I want to, though. And maybe working with Henry will teach me a little bit of it. I head into the bathroom and start brushing my teeth, but there’s a knock at the door. I open it up and Henry grins at me. “You busy?” he asks. I shake my head and let him in as I go into the bathroom to rinse out my mouth. When I’m done, he’s leaning up against the wall near the door across from me.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says. “It’s late,” I say, a little evasive. “Come on,” he insists. “It’s nice out. And I’m a little bit drunk. Could use the exercise.” I bite my lip and for a second, I want to say no. I should just go to bed and wake up in the morning. I should keep things professional between us. Instead, I nod my head. “Let’s go then. Since you’re so wasted.” He laughs and I follow him out into the hall, my heart beating fast.

9

HENRY

W

e walk silently for a little while, just taking in Sellersville.

It’s a ghost town after dark. Well, it’s not much better during the day, but at least the gangbangers aren’t around. After dark, there’s absolutely nobody. The city looks more sinister with the weak yellow streetlights, half of which are out anyway. The pavement is all beat up, with tons of potholes, and weeds run rampant in tons of unkempt lawns and empty lots. Buildings are decaying and crumbling, and I’m actually a little alarmed at how many houses have boarded-up windows. I sometimes feel like people are watching us as we walk, but nobody says a

word. “It’s like a horror movie.” Vivian breaks the silence, and her remarks are cutting and apt like always. “Yeah, you’re right,” I say. “This used to be a nice little town once.” “Not too long ago, right?” She shrugs a little. “This opioid thing…” “It’s bad,” I say. “Ripping this place to pieces.” “We’re doing a good thing at least. Trying to get people to learn about it.” “Yeah,” I say, musing a bit. “Too little too late, I’m sure.” “Always is.” We fall into silence again, looking at the buildings. We come around a bend and there’s a bridge up ahead. Viv walks faster, heading right toward it. I follow a little behind, smiling at her as she hurries toward the water. Once on the bridge, she looks over the side. I join her a minute later and we both gaze down at the creek flowing over the rocks. “Reminds me of home,” she says, looking down at the houses lining the creek’s bank. “Spent a lot of time by the water back then.”

“We sure did,” I say. “Too much, probably. We should have been doing drugs. Or having sex.” She laughs and nudges me. “I guess we were lame.” “We were young. And we had our own fun.” I grin at her. “Remember in the back seat of my car, when that guy shined his flashlight in through the window?” “Oh god,” she groans. “I blocked that out.” “I thought it was the cops and we were about to be arrested. I figured my mom was finally going to kill me for real.” “But it was just that guy, right?” she says, looking up at me. “The weird guy walking his dog. A little white yappy thing. What did you say to him?” She screws up her face, trying to remember. “I told him to fuck off,” I say. “And you called him a pervert,” she adds. “Oh yeah. And I said his dog was stupid.” We both laugh together, lost in the good memory. “What were we doing, anyway?” she asks me. “I’m pretty sure I was going down on you,” I say. She blushes. “No way, really?”

“Really. I’m shocked you’d forget. If I recall, I used to make you…” “Okay,” she says, interrupting me. “You don’t need to go into detail.” “You sure I don’t? They’re nice details.” “I’m sure,” she says, leaning closer to me. I can feel my heart beating as I remember touching her skin, tasting her pussy. I’ve been with plenty of women in the meantime, but I’ve always remembered Vivian as something special. Something to be savored. “We were stupid kids back then,” she says, a little wistfully. “Yeah. But we had fun.” “Yeah, we did.” She looks out at the creek, but I don’t look away from her. “You know, what happened between us…” I say softly. “We don’t have to talk about it.” “It was stupid. I was stupid.” She looks up at me with this strained, fake smile that almost breaks my heart. “It was a long time ago, Henry. We were kids.”

“I know, but—“ “It doesn’t matter. Really.” I want to explain to her. I want her to understand why I did what I did. I was doing it for her, for her future, and I think I made the right decision, even though that decision has haunted me for a long, long time. In a lot of ways, getting into this dangerous profession was my way of running from the past. I was running from the girl I felt I let down and destroyed, running from my own feelings. But now I can’t run away anymore, because it’s all standing right in front of me. I did what I did for her. It probably doesn’t seem that way, but it’s the truth. She was going to pass up on something important. She was talking about choosing me over Harvard, but I couldn’t let her do that. I couldn’t let her throw away the greatest opportunity of her life for some stupid high school romance. And so I broke up with her. I was a fucking dick to her to make sure that she wanted to get far, far away from me, and it worked. She went to Harvard. But I fucked everything up between us. I threw away the one person that got me, that cared about

me more than anyone else ever had. Still to this day, I’ve never met someone quite like Vivian, and never had someone care about me that same way. I don’t regret doing it. But I regret the way I went about it. I could have been more honest with her, told her the truth, or at least been less of an asshole. I was trying to push her away, trying to make sure she went to Harvard, but I was a fucking asshole in the process. That’s haunted me ever since. She turns away, back toward the creek, and I know the moment’s over. I can’t push this and explain right now. I’m afraid it won’t come out right and I’ll fuck things up completely with her. I follow her gaze and spot something down in the water. “Come here,” I say, heading toward the end of the bridge. “Check this out.” She follows after a second. We get to the edge of the road and step down a steep embankment, heading toward the water. “What is it?” she asks. I point toward the water. “Look at that.” She spots it and laughs, shaking her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “I wonder what’s inside.”

She laughs and steps closer. Sitting half-submerged in the water is an old white refrigerator, clearly something someone dumped here a while ago. It’s chipped and rusted and weathered, and the edges are worn smooth from the movement of the water. “Probably the most delicious thing imaginable, but we’ll never know.” She stops at the water’s edge. I come up behind her and grab her hips. “You sure we can’t know?” “Henry!” she says, laughing. “Cut it out.” I pretend like I’m going to push her in, but I pull her back from the edge at the last minute. She stumbles back and we land on our butts next to each other. She laughs and shoves me. “Asshole,” she says. “If I got wet, I’d kill you.” “I wouldn’t let you fall in,” I say. “But I might make you wet.” She rolls her eyes. “Good one.” We lean back against the grass and watch the water flow around the refrigerator. I know it’s just trash sitting in the middle of a creek, but it’s strangely beautiful with the moonlight falling down around it. I glance at Vivian and she’s looking at me with an

odd expression. “What?” I ask her. “Nothing,” she says. “Just trying to figure out what they all see in you.” I raise an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” “The crew. They all look up to you, even Bill does, and he’s twice your age.” I laugh a little. “That’s not true. I’m just their boss, like it or not.” “No, this is different. They all see something in you… but I don’t know what it is.” “Huh,” I say, smirking slightly and shifting closer. “Maybe you just have to find out.” “Maybe,” she says, not moving away. I don’t know what comes over me, but I reach out and take her chin, softly turning her face toward mine. Her lips are full, red, and slightly parted, and she doesn’t resist me. There’s still so much unspoken between us. But I know this isn’t the time for talking. I lean forward and kiss her. She kisses me back after a second and I pull her tightly against me.

Memories course through me, rough and intense. I remember kissing her in the halls of school, in the basement of her house, in the darkroom after photography class. It’s all there plus a hint of something more, of the woman she’s become. She tastes exactly the same as I remember, and it feels so fucking good to finally kiss her again, like I’m coming home. But as quickly and as intensely it starts, she breaks away. “I’m sorry,” she says, standing suddenly. “We shouldn’t.” “Yeah,” I say. “Maybe not.” “It’s just, we’re working together.” “Right.” I stand up and brush myself off. “Shouldn’t get involved.” “Right,” she says, biting her lower lip. I hesitate a second then grin at her. I won’t let this get awkward. “Come on,” I say. “Nothing wrong with kissing an ex. Consider it a little backslide.” She smiles a bit. “Yeah. Just a little backslide.” “Let’s head back.” I turn and help her back up the embankment and onto the sidewalk. We walk back to the hotel, and I keep up a string of small talk, determined not to let things get too awkward.

Maybe she broke it off, but she let that happen. She wanted me to kiss her, wanted it despite knowing that she shouldn’t. That says a lot right here, more than I bet she’d admit to. We get back to the hotel and say goodnight. I head to my room, but I can’t get that kiss from my head: the moonlight on the water, her gorgeous thick hair falling around her shoulders, her lips parted and begging for mine.

10

VIVIAN

I

haven’t been kissed like that in a long, long time. Hell, I don’t think I’ve been kissed like that since Henry.

With him, there’s always more. Sure, I’ve had boyfriends, but with him… it’s always like it’s special. The spark never goes away, not completely at least. I remember it was like that with him back in the day, back when we were kids. I never thought for a second that I could feel so strongly about someone again, so intensely and stupidly… But no, I can’t let myself go down that road. What I said back there was the truth. We’re coworkers and we can’t risk getting involved with each other. No matter how good it feels, we have to keep it professional.

Besides, when he started speaking to me on the bridge about our past, I had an intense feeling of revulsion. I couldn’t hear it from him. All that anger came flooding back and I wanted to yell at him. I had to make him stop or else risk saying something stupid. Things are so complicated with Henry. I hate that about us, hate that things have gotten here. We used to be so close, closer than I’ve ever been with someone. That’s probably why my heart is still a little bit broken and I can’t completely get past him. It’s his fault, though. I can’t forget that. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t decided to break things off with me. I’ll never forget that afternoon. It happened out of nowhere. The school day ended, and normally I’d walk back with him. I waited at our usual spot near the cafeteria, but he never showed up. After a half hour of waiting, I decided just to head back on my own. When I got halfway back, I noticed Henry sitting on a guard rail next to a bridge. He stood as I approached. I guessed he knew I’d pass eventually, and he was waiting for me. “Where were you?” I asked him. “I was waiting.”

“Viv, listen. We gotta talk.” His face scared me. It was so serious, and I knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?” “Viv, listen to me. We need to break up.” Those words were like daggers. “What?” I managed to say. “Sorry. It’s just not working out.” He looked away then and for a second, I thought he was joking. “Good one,” I say, taking a tentative step toward him. “I’m not kidding,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “This isn’t a joke, okay? We have to be done.” “Henry—“ “We’re though, Vivian. We’re breaking up.” He paused and finally met my gaze. “Good luck.” He turned then and walked away, hurrying across the street and between two houses. I watched him go, broken and devastated. I called him that night, but he never answered, and things were never the same after that. I sigh, getting out of bed. I hate remembering that moment, but it’s been coming back to me lately. It came out of nowhere. I was just talking to him

about wanting to go to college with him. He was pissed about that, told me I had to go to Harvard, but then things seemed fine for a couple weeks. I thought we’d be together forever. I was stupid, of course. I’m not stupid anymore. I get out of bed, wash my face, and do my usual morning routine. When I’m showered and clean, I head down into the lobby with my notes for the afternoon. I grab a cup of coffee and start reviewing the questions. It’s hard to pay attention, since I keep drifting off, thinking about Henry’s kiss. I’m supposed to meet with families of opioid addicts, and I know this is going to be tough. It’s an emotional subject, and a lot of these people lost loved ones to this disease. I have to be on the top of my game. As I’m skimming my pages, Henry appears. He’s always up before the crew. He nods at me as he pours a cup of coffee and sits down across from me. “How’s it going?” he asks. “Not bad,” I say. “Just reviewing for later.” He nods, glancing at the pages. “Should be a tough one.”

“I know,” I say. “But important.” “Definitely,” he agrees. “These people… they’ve been through something we can barely understand. We need them if we’re going to make this work.” “Definitely,” I say, surprised by the passion in his voice. He sighs and sips his coffee. “Damn idiots,” he grumbles. “They’re going to sleep until the last minute and I’m going to have to carry a bunch of shit.” I grin at him. “You’re a young, strong guy. You can tough it out.” He grumbles something indistinct and sips his coffee. I can’t help but smile as I go back to reviewing my notes. He takes out his laptop and starts doing work, and we sit there in silence together. I’m surprised at how comfortable it is. After about a half hour of this, Henry suddenly perks up. I follow his gaze and spot a woman looking around the lobby. She’s in her forties, tan skin and sagging bags under her eyes. She looks like a lifelong smoker, with deeply dyed blonde hair and lots of metal bracelets. “Shit,” Henry says, standing.

“What?” I ask him. “That’s one of our interviews.” He looks down at me. “Wait here.” He walks over to her and greets her, and I can tell from the look on her face that this isn’t a good thing. I put down my pages and stand. I walk over, getting closer. “But why?” Henry’s saying as the woman shakes her head. “We just can’t, okay?” she says, her voice a croak. She looks fucking terrified. “But tell me why, Lucille,” he says again. “We’re here to help you. To tell your story and your son’s story.” “My son is gone. It’s over. We just want to be left alone.” “Do they all feel that way?” She nods, looking at the ground, avoiding Henry’s gaze. “Everyone. We’re all canceling. I’m sorry. Please don’t bother us.” “Lucille—“

“Don’t bother us,” she says again. “Or we’ll call the cops, okay? Got it? Leave us alone.” She turns and leaves then, storming off. I stare after her and Henry is clearly shocked. “What just happened?” I ask him. “I have no clue,” he says, shaking his head. “That was my local contact, Lucille Slater.” “She looked scared,” I say. He looks at me with a frown. “I noticed that too.” “Why would she be afraid?” We stand there in silence for a second. “Shit,” he says softly. “You don’t think…?” “Maybe,” I say, picking up on his thread right away. “I mean, why else?” “That guy from the other night did say that the Strips wouldn’t be happy with us poking around.” “They could have threatened them.” I bite my lip, heart beating faster. “What could they have said to make her that afraid?” “I don’t know,” he says. “But I have to make some calls and get to the bottom of this.” “Okay. Anything I can do?”

“Not right now,” he says and turns to head toward the elevators. Before he gets there, he pauses and turns back. “Stay in the hotel, okay?” he says. I nod. “I’ll be down here or in my room.” “Good. Just stay here for now.” The worry in his expression makes me a bit afraid, but he quickly gets on the elevator and heads up to his room. I watch him disappear and I slowly head back to my seat. I pick up my coffee and sip it, staring at the floor. If these people are too afraid to talk to us, then things might be even worse here than we thought. Clearly they’re more afraid of the Strips than they are of anything else. They probably hate the gangs and the drugs that killed their loved ones, but they’re too afraid to do anything. And that means we should be afraid, too. Because we’re not going to stop pushing and trying to get to the bottom of this story. It’s too important, and I personally can’t let thugs like the Strips get away with this. Still, this is real danger, and these guys are seriously violent. I don’t know what to think. But I trust Henry. I know he has our best interests at heart. He’s the guy that takes pictures of the moon in the middle of

a war zone, after all. I can trust him to take care of the entire crew. And if he’s not backing down then neither am I.

11

HENRY

M

orale takes a big hit when we find out that every single family we planned on speaking with canceled on us. This isn’t the first time an interview got canceled because of intimidation. It happens all the time, actually, and it’s not particularly surprising. But having every single person we planned on interviewing drop out… that’s incredibly unusual. I tried making some calls. I even got a couple folks on the phone, but they wouldn’t talk to me except for saying they weren’t interested anymore. I could practically hear the fear in their voices, and I could definitely see it on Lucille’s face. Nobody said for sure that it was the Strips who intimidated and scared them out of this. Obviously

nobody wants to talk. But I think it’s pretty obvious. And that’s more than a little worrying. “Why don’t we go to the police?” Vivian asks me. We’re sitting down in the lobby toward the back of the place, the whole group of us. Trace is picking nervously at his shirt and Bill’s looking out the window. Miller’s watching silently like always. “We have no proof,” I say. “What can they do?” “I don’t know,” she admits. “Protect them maybe?” “That’ll cost too much,” I say with a sigh. “Local police like these don’t have much of a budget to begin with. They’re probably stretched thin trying to fight back against the Strips, assuming they’re not just in the bastards’ pockets.” “There has to be something. Maybe they can protect just one family?” I shake my head. “It won’t happen. We’re on our own until we get some kind of real proof that the Strips are making threats.” “So we’re fucked?” Trace speaks up. “No,” I say forcefully. “Just means we have to tread a little… carefully.” “Can’t see how we’re going forward,” Bill muses. “I mean, without some community support, this

whole thing falls apart.” I glance at Viv and she’s lost in thought. “We have other plans. We don’t need these interviews for this story,” I say. Bill shakes his head. “Maybe not, but I’ve done enough of these to know that it won’t be as powerful without some family interviews.” I know he’s right, and I’m frustrated. We just lost five families, all with really good, credible stories. I did a ton of groundwork putting these interviews together, verifying their stories, all that good shit. And now it’s all gone in the blink of an eye. “We could always find new sources,” Miller says suddenly. We all look at him. He shrugs a little sheepishly. “He’s not wrong,” Bill says slowly. “I mean, there are a lot of people with a lot of stories in this town.” “We’ll have to do a lot of groundwork,” I say slowly, but the gears are already churning. “It’s possible, though.” “Dangerous work,” Trace says. I hesitate. “Could be,” I say after a second.

“What if we make this part of the story?” We all turn and look at Vivian. Her eyes are wide a bit. “What do you mean?” I ask her. “This whole intimidation thing, the interviews falling through. Why don’t we use it?” I watch her, eyes narrowed. “I see where you’re going,” I say slowly. “But we don’t know for sure that the Strips intimidated them.” “So we can be up front about that,” she says. “Look, it’s a powerful story. We can do a segment about the families, say what we know about them, maybe use different names so there’s no reprisals or something.” I watch her and nod. It’s a good idea, honestly, and could be really powerful. Normally we try and avoid stories like that, where the journalists become a part of the reporting. We’re supposed to stay unbiased and apart from it all. “Okay,” I say after a moment. “Here’s the plan. Viv, you go ahead and start writing some copy for your idea. In a few hours, we’ll meet back down here and go out to a local bar.” “Now you’re talking,” Bill says, lighting up.

“With the express purpose of meeting new people,” I say to him, making myself clear. “This is a job. So no getting blackout wasted.” He sighs. “Okay. Fine. Although I’m very friendly when blacked out.” I roll my eyes. “So we’re going to go with both angles and see where it leads us. Understood?” “Aye, aye,” Trace says. Bill and Miller both grunt their assent. I look at Viv and she gives me a tight little nod. “Okay, troops,” I say. “Get the fuck to work.”

W E END up back at the Floorstander that night, and Bill posts up at the bar with Miller and Trace under the guise of trying to make friends. Really, they’re drinking on WBN’s tab, and I can’t blame them. I don’t love this idea. I don’t think anyone is going to talk to us. Everyone in this town knows about the Strips and they all know what’ll happen if they talk. I’m feeling fucking down, but at least Viv looks incredible, sitting across from me at the booth.

She’s wearing this short skirt that emphasizes her ass in a way that makes my fucking cock hard. Her blouse is loose and slightly low cut, showing off her beautiful breasts, and I keep getting a glimpse of her black bra. She raises her eyebrow at me. “What?” she asks. I realize that I’ve been staring. “Nothing.” I sip my beer to cover it. A little smile passes across her face and she looks out across the bar. “What are the chances that someone will talk to us?” I shake my head. “Honestly?” “Honestly. “Not good.” I sigh and lean back against the booth’s patched and springy back. “You ever been to a town like this?” “Henry, we grew up in a town like this.” “Huh. Good point.” “The only difference between where we grew up and here is the opioid epidemic, but who knows how it hit back home.” She shrugs a little bit. “It used to be just booze, but the world gets more complicated every day.”

“Strange when you wish for the good old days of alcoholics and bootleggers.” She laughs lightly. “Seriously, though. I understand it. People wouldn’t want to rat on someone back home, either.” “Still, this is big, Viv. Their kids are dying. Their families are getting torn to pieces.” “You’re right. But what can we do?” I shake my head and survey the room again. There are a few locals sitting at the bar. Bill’s talking to one, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Most of the people here look rough, blue collar, but decent people. It’s not some dangerous biker bar. It’s just a dive in a small town. I bet the people that come here have been coming for years. Overall, the clientele is a little bit older. Two guys catch my eye. They’re over by the back playing darts and slugging back whisky. The one guy is wearing a PBS hat and the other has a tweed jacket on. They don’t exactly fit in with the rest of the people here, but I can still see Sellersville all over them. It’s in the way they move. It’s a weight, or maybe a comfort, it’s hard to pin down. “What about them?” I ask Viv, nodding over at the two.

“Could work,” she says. “How are you going to approach them?” I grin at her. “I’m not going to do it. You are.” She raises an eyebrow. “No way,” she says. “Come on. You’re the most attractive girl in this place. Probably the most attractive girl in the whole damn town.” “Uh, thanks, but I’m not going to, like… seduce them.” I laugh and shake my head. “You don’t have to. Just walk over there, introduce yourself, and I’ll do the rest.” She bites her lip but finally nods. “Okay, fine. Fuck it. This is why I took this job, right?” “Right, sure,” I say. “You can do this. Just walk up to them, smile, introduce yourself, let them stare at your tits. Easy.” She gives me a look. “Wish me luck.” “You don’t need it. You’ve got that ass, instead.” She can’t help but smile as she takes a deep breath, stands, and heads over to the two men. I watch, my heart beating fast, as she approaches

them. The guy with the PBS hat turns to her first and they start talking. She shakes their hands and twirls her hair a little bit, and I can tell that these idiots are going to fall right into her trap. I have to admit, I’m proud of her. I didn’t think she’d do it, much less with such skill. She looks utterly comfortable, like picking up random locals in a dive bar is just part of her normal night out. I give her a couple minutes to chat before getting up and ambling over. She notices me and turns my way, smiling. “Henry, come meet John and Max.” The guy in the PBS hat shakes my hand first. “John,” he says. The guy in the jacket shakes next. “Guys, I’m Henry, nice to meet you both.” “I was just saying how cute their town is,” Vivian says. “Turns out they both grew up here.” “Sure did,” John says. “Nice place to live, I think.” “It’s real nice,” I say. “We’re just passing through, but we like it here.” I hesitate a second. “Say John, where’d you get that hat?” “Oh you know. One of those pledge drives.” He grins at me. “Guess I’m a sucker for that sort of thing.”

“He’s a sucker for more than just that,” Max says and I laugh loudly at his joke. “I’ve got just about a million t-shirts and beer cozies from stuff like that, so you’re preaching to the choir,” I say, and both men grin at me. We fall into a normal conversation. Viv pops in now and again, and eventually we start to play darts with the guys. Viv keeps glancing at me, wondering when I’m going to bring up the opioid thing, but I know I have to be careful. I get them some more drinks, wait for them to have a few, and I let them win at darts. After about an hour and another round, Viv lets her hair down, and I can tell she’s about to make her move. I lean across the table we’re sitting at and look Max in the eye. “Listen, I gotta ask you somethin’. There are some weird rumors I heard about this place.” He gives me an amused smile. “Like what?” “Like drugs and gangs and stuff.” I shrug a little bit. Max’s face falls a touch but he recovers himself. “I don’t know anything about that. Sellersville is really safe, you know.”

“You sure about that?” Viv asks, leaning over the table to look at him. Max glances at John and I can see the looks on their faces. “We’re thinking about moving into the area,” I say quickly. “Trying to get a sense of the place.” “Thought you were just passing through,” John says. “On our way to look at other towns near here,” Vivian quickly says. “But we were wondering… maybe you could talk to us? About some of this stuff.” The two guys go silent for a second. “I don’t know about that,” Max says. “Look, let’s be real.” I reach into my back pocket. “I’m a journalist, and we’re doing a story about the opioid thing. We want to interview you guys.” I hand Max my card. He takes it and looks at it. “I’ve heard of WBN,” he says. “Watch it sometimes.” “We’re doing a simple story. We won’t use your names or any identifying information. We just need some local perspective,” Viv says, smiling at him. For a second, I think they’re going to get pissed

because we lied to them for so long. But the two guys exchange looks again. “I could talk,” John says finally. “Truth is, there’s shit in this town we don’t like.” “Been talking about it for years,” Max adds. “You’d really be helping us out,” Viv says. Max nods. “Look, I gotta get going.” “Yeah, me too.” John checks the time. “Wife expects me home.” The two men stand and I’m worried we won’t be seeing them again, but I can’t be too pushy. “Listen, my number’s on that card. Call me. We’ll just talk, no names, no pictures.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” Max nods at the two of us. “Take it easy.” “Night,” John says, and the two guys leave. Viv watches them go and sighs. “What do you think?” “I think they’re never going to call.” “Why’d you tell them we’re journalists?” she asks me. “Had to,” I say. “How were we going to interview

them, just lie about it?” “Okay, good point.” She sighs. “I hope Bill’s having more luck.” But Bill’s drunk and so are Miller and Trace. We head over and gather the three of them. The guy they were talking to shut down as soon as they said they were working with journalists, a lot like our two buddies just did, and we’re forced to leave. We get into the van and I drive the whole lot of them back to the hotel. My mind is stuck back in that bar, wondering what I could have done differently, annoyed that I might have fucked things up. I don’t want to let Vivian down here, because I think she’s really invested in this story. I could have been a little better back there. We head back up to our rooms. The guys all stop down in Miller’s for another drink, and so Viv and I are alone in the hallway together. She looks at me as I head to my door. “You did good, back there.” I stop, a little surprised. “I thought I fucked it all up.” “No,” she says. “You were right to tell them the truth. We can’t do this by lying to people.”

“Yeah, we can’t,” I agree. “But it’d be a lot easier if we could.” She smiles at me. “It’s not about easy, right?” “Right.” I give her a sideways look and I suddenly can taste her lips again. I want to invite her back into my room for a drink, but because I can’t get the words out, she swipes her card and opens her door. “Night,” she says, and disappears inside. “Damn,” I say softly. I don’t know if this night worked out or not. I guess I’ll find out in the morning if one of those guys calls us. Either way, I’m not giving up. Next time I’ll do better. But I am impressed with Viv. She’s clearly growing up, taking risks, doing some difficult things because she thinks it’s the right thing to do. She’s a strong person, stronger than I could have guessed. I’m glad she’s back in my life. Even if shit just got so much more complicated.

12

VIVIAN

I

wake up slowly, my head hurting from the night before.

I didn’t think I drank that much, but apparently I did. I keep getting ghostly images of approaching those two guys, with their creepy smiles and that PBS hat. I was so happy when Henry came to my rescues, but things didn’t go as well as I had hoped. After that, we had a few more drinks, and things get even hazier. I remember walking back with the crew, talking and laughing with Trace, and eventually collapsing into my bed. I get up and groan a little bit. I’m so stupid for getting that drunk…. but I had a lot of fun. I didn’t expect to really enjoy the crew like this, and I’m pleasantly surprised. I thought making these serious

journalistic pieces would be all work and no play, which would be okay with me, but it’s not like that at all. This is a weird little dysfunctional family. And I love it. I get up, brush my teeth, shower up real fast, and get some clothes on. As I leave my door, I practically walk directly into Henry as he walks in front of my door and toward the elevator. “Morning,” he says to me, stopping and grinning at me. “Morning,” I say to him. “Don’t be so loud.” “Feeling a little crappy?” he asks. “A little,” I admit. We walk side by side and get on the elevator together, riding it down to the lobby. We get coffee in a comfortable silence and take seats over by the big windows. It’s empty and the rest of the crew is still sleeping. We don’t have any concrete plans for today, but I’m not totally worried about that. I take out my laptop and open a blank Word document. Starting a new story is always the hardest part. Once I get the opening down, the words always flow, but it’s the beginning that always gets to me.

“Staring at the page, huh,” Henry says to me. I look up at him and shrug. “Guess so. I figure I’ll get started on the written part.” “Good idea.” He glances out the window. “The guys are going to be restless today.” “Might be too hungover to care,” I say, remembering the shots they were doing. “Might be,” he concedes. “But I should think of something to keep them busy. We’ll get some B-roll and grab some local sounds, I think.” “Sounds fun,” I say. “Am I invited?” He laughs. “Always,” he says. “But I don’t think you’ll be interested. It’s just a lot of driving around, filming random stuff, and getting yelled at by people.” “Sounds like a great time.” He laughs and leans back. As he goes to sip his coffee, his phone starts to buzz on the table next to him. With a frown, he picks it up and checks the screen. “Local number,” he says. I raise an eyebrow. “Could be…?”

He shrugs and swipes to answer. “Hello?” I watch his face and can only hear his side of the conversation, but it’s clear that something’s weird. “Yeah, this is Henry,” he says. “Sure, I remember. Max from last night. Sure, I remember John.” Henry pauses for a second and his eye narrow. “Are you positive about that?” he asks. “Could he just be somewhere…” He trails off, listening again. “Okay. We’re at the Holiday Inn, you know the one?” He sighs and fidgets. “Okay, okay. Call the police. I don’t know what else we can do.” Another long pause. “I can’t do that.” And then the guy hangs up. My heart is hammering in my chest by the time he looks at me, clear worry etched in his expression. “Was that one of the guys from last night?” I ask him. He nods. “Seems his buddy went missing. Not answering his phone, car missing from his driveway, house all locked up.” “He could have just left to go somewhere,” I say slowly. “Didn’t seem to think that was the case. Honestly, he seemed scared.” I raise an eyebrow. “The Strips?”

He nods slowly. “I think so. I don’t know if they took the guy or what, but Max wasn’t willing to call the cops. He warned us to back off and leave town or else.” I shake my head, totally shocked. I can hardly believe this. It seems fake, like the sort of thing you see on a cheesy TV show. I can’t imagine a gang would have enough power in this town to make someone disappear only hours after talking to journalists. “It’s not like they told us anything,” I say. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. Seems that just being near us is a bad thing.” “And how did they even…” I trail off. “Probably following us,” he admits. “Or maybe just had some guys at that bar, who knows. We can’t go back there now.” “Shit,” I say, at a total loss. “What do we do?” “I don’t know,” he admits. “Things are getting dangerous.” “We need to call the cops.” He shakes his head. “You can’t.” “Why not?” I reach for my phone, head buzzing, a

rolling fear starting to stir in my gut. “If that guy’s in trouble, and his friend is afraid, we need to call someone. We have to help.” “Viv,” Henry warns. “It’s our fault,” I say fiercely. “It’s our fault if this guys is in trouble.” “Viv,” Henry says more softly. He reaches out and gently takes my hand. “Take a deep breath.” I stare at him for a second and anger flares. But just as quickly it dies down as I realize that I’m terrified and not thinking. I take some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Henry sits there and watches me. “Good,” he says. “Now look at me. I’m not taking any risks, okay? You and the crew are more important to me than anything else.” “We can’t just abandon them,” I say to him. “We’re not, I promise. But in this town, we can’t trust anyone.” It slowly dawns on me what he’s saying as he stares into my eyes. I shake my head, not wanting to believe him. “They’re the police,” I say. “They’re people,” he replies quickly. “And people are susceptible to corruption, especially in a place

like this.” “I know you mentioned it before, but…” I trail off. “I know. I don’t want to imagine that the police could be corrupt, but we know better. We’re journalists. There are so many instances of dirty cops all over this country, especially in small towns where money goes a long way. I’m not saying they’re all dirty, but I guarantee there are some bad ones, and we’ll probably get them.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. He lets go of my hand and I slowly put my phone back down. I still want to call the cops, or do anything, but I know that he’s right. Henry wouldn’t just leave these guys in trouble if there were something he could do, especially something as simple as making a phone call. But he’s right, as much as I hate it. There could easily be some bought-off cops, and as soon as we make a call, they’ll be on us like flies on honey. Once that happens, this story is dead, and these people will continue to suffer. “So what do we do?” I finally ask him. “Right now, nothing,” he says. “We don’t have enough information. I told Max to come meet with us, but he said he won’t. He has our number. I

suspect we’ll be hearing from him again.” “So we sit here and wait,” I say softly. “No. You get to work on the article and I take the guys out to get B-roll footage. We keep on going, Viv.” “Just like that?” I ask him. “Just like that,” he confirms. “What else can we do? It’s not like we’re backing down.” He grins at me and I grin back. “Good point.” I sigh and sip my coffee. He stands up and stretches. “I’m going to go check on them,” he says. “Make sure they’re all alive. Stay in here, okay?” “Okay,” I say, watching him as he turns away. I don’t think I’ve ever been this worried before, but this is what I wanted. This is reality. I wanted to get into the shit, go where the real stories are. I didn’t expect to get thrown into danger on my very first assignment, but I couldn’t avoid it forever. It makes me think Henry is that much stronger. He’s been through this sort of thing before. He’s been in danger researching the story. I haven’t done anything in my life, just a bunch of easy pieces for the New York Times and Buzzfeed.

I want to prove to everyone that I belong at WBN. I’m afraid, my heart’s beating hard in my chest, and I want to call the cops, but I know I won’t. I trust Henry too much to do that. Part of me wants to run, but I’m going to ignore that part. I’m going to see this thing through because that’s what a journalist does. I’m going to get the story and make a difference, no matter what. So what if a few dangerous gangbangers want to run us out of town? No big deal. We can handle them. At least I hope so.

13

HENRY

I

hope I didn’t show Vivian how fucking worried I am, because I didn’t want to freak her out.

But this shit just got serious. Max sounded absolutely terrified on the phone. I’m not totally convinced that his friend didn’t just skip town or something like that, although that would be bad enough. Still, Max sounded like something really bad had happened. And it happened fast, too fast. Barely hours after we first met the guys and now one of them is missing. I don’t know how the fuck we’re going to do this story if every single person we so much as talk to is intimidated and scared away. The Strips are a bunch of fucking thugs and bullies,

and all they want to do is keep selling their deadly fucking designer heroin. They want to keep decimating this down, all for their own profit. And they can get away with it, because good people are too scared to speak out, and I can’t blame them. I told Viv that we won’t back down, but I’m not so sure about that anymore. Frankly, I want her to get the hell out of here, but I know she won’t listen to me. I want to do this story without her, without having to worry about her safety. The guys have been through stuff like this before, but Viv is new to it all, and I don’t want this to be the time that shit goes down and someone gets hurt. I couldn’t forgive myself if Viv somehow was injured in any way at all. I know it’s more than just a professional desire to keep her safe. It’s personal for me, very, very personal. Maybe that’s clouding my judgment. Maybe Viv is totally capable of handling this shit herself. But I don’t want to take that chance. I could do my job better without having to worry about her. I’d run the interviews, and Viv could write everything up from the safety of our office back in Philly. I know she won’t go for it, but it’s what I really, really want. After talking to Max, I go upstairs, wake the guys,

and let them get ready. An hour later, they’re dragging their asses down to the van and loading the equipment we’ll need. Viv hangs off to the side. There’s not a lot of chatter, mostly because the guys feel like death and shooting B-roll is incredibly boring, but that’s their own fault. “We’ll be okay,” I say to her. “Don’t worry.” “Still, check in with me, okay?” she asks. “Sure,” I say. “Keep your phone on. And don’t leave the hotel.” “I’ll be here.” I hesitate in front of her and want to say more, but the thump of gear dropping into the van pulls me away. “See you soon,” I say. She nods and heads back inside. “Fucking B-roll,” Bill murmurs as we get into the van and start driving. I grin at him. “This is your own fault, you know,” I say. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “Just trying to keep up with the young guys, you know?”

“I hear that. Too bad you’re not young anymore.” “Too bad,” he agrees. We ride in companionable silence. Bill’s been with me through some serious shit, but I’m starting to worry about him. That shine in his eye is a little duller and he’s a little less outgoing. His drinking seems a little worse than it has been in the past, and I don’t know why. It can’t be the stress of this job, since I know for a fact that he can handle it. No, it’s something else. Maybe it’s just the harsh reality of getting older finally catching up with him. Maybe that’s why he’s trying so hard to keep up with Trace and Miller, both guys younger than he is. I smile to myself. Sometimes, I forget that I’m younger than both Miller and Bill. I’m one of the youngest producers in our industry, and definitely the youngest at WBN. I forget that a lot, mostly because I have to. I’m in charge of these guys, despite the age differences. They have to respect me, and I have to earn that respect. The afternoon slides by the way it usually does when we’re riding around aimlessly filming. B-roll is basically all that scenic stuff. We get long, slow panning shots of traffic on Main Street, low, angled shots of closed down strip malls, close-ups of

abandoned houses, and slow moving streams. There’s an old paper mill about ten minutes away, and we spend an hour walking around its grounds, getting shots of rotting out wooden frames, deer trotting away as we get closer, an old wallet dropped in the overgrown parking lot, graffiti covering the front door. This place used to employ hundreds, if not thousands, of people here, but that’s long gone. It’s the oldest story in America now. The rise of industrial practices gave people a new life, made an entire middle class, but it didn’t last forever. Slowly, factories closed and went overseas, mostly because of supposedly business-friendly laws. Good, honest people lost work because companies could save a dime outsourcing their jobs overseas. Whole communities were devastated, and some never really recovered. That’s the story of the Rust Belt. Once, Studebaker employed all of South Bend, Indiana. Now, that factory is closed, and South Bend is a ghost town, barely hanging on thanks to Notre Dame University. Sellersville is much the same. This mill closed and because there’s no major university anywhere nearby, people had to turn to other ways of making money. Gangs moved in selling drugs, and slowly

the place turned into a haven for the pushers. That’s what I want to show at least. We get some shots of trash in creeks, fast food joints lining the main drag, that sort of thing. I want people to see what happens when businesses decide to take work away from good people. I want the world to see what the gangs are doing. Sometimes, I feel like I really am too young to be doing this job. “I used to get fired up, too,” Bill said to me once on a job a year or two ago. “Used to spend all night long feeling outraged about how messed up the world is.” “So what changed?” I asked him. He shrugged. “I got older. And shit jut kept getting worse, no matter what I did.” “So we just give up?” He shook his head. “No, kid. We never give up. That’s the important thing. I just don’t get as angry anymore.” He grinned at me. “Could just be the blood pressure pills, though.” Maybe I am too young and angry for this, but I can’t help it. I want to fight. I don’t want to give up. And I can see that same quality in Vivian. She came

to this through a longer route than me, but she’s here now, and I can see the fire in her. She always had it, but now it’s burning brightly as she gets closer and closer to the source of things. I feel like she’s going to do great things if she’s given a chance, and I want to give her that chance. That’s my job, at least. But with her, it’s always more than just a job. Trace flips a switch on his camera and leans it on his shoulder. “Fucking birds,” he says. “Yeah,” I agree. We’ve been filming wildlife near an overgrown park for the last twenty minutes and I can tell it’s getting to the guys. “You want to try something else?” He nods. “Please, man. I hate these fucking birds now. And I’m an animal person, you know?” I laugh and point him in the direction of some rusty old playground equipment. “Get some shots of that,” I say. He walks over it to eagerly. I scan the distance, looking for something else for him to film, when I spot a couple of cars parked across the way. I squint, trying to make them out. Far as I can tell, nobody bothers with this place anymore, except to come shoot up and get high at night. There’s drug

paraphernalia all over the fucking place, including more than one exposed fucking needle. I think I can see guys sitting behind the wheels, but I’m not sure. As we keep filming, the cars don’t move. I have a weird feeling about them. “Okay, let’s pack it up,” I say about a half hour later. The guys gratefully start putting the stuff back into the van. When we’re done, we start driving back into the center of town. As we pull onto the main drug, I spot those cars again. They’re unmistakable, definitely the same ones: a black SUV and a blue, beat-up truck. They’re driving in a line and they fall into traffic behind me. “You good?” Bill asks, noticing my tension. “Two cars pulled in behind me. You remember them from earlier?” He cranes his neck and grunts. “Maybe,” he admits. “Let’s see if they’re following.” I make a few random turns, trying to follow a meandering, aimless path. The two cars never deviate from us. They don’t follow close, but they’re always back there, sometimes right behind

me, sometimes a car or two back. I glance at Bill and he frowns. “Yeah, they’re tailing us all right.” “Shit,” I whisper. “What’s up, guys?” Trace leans up between the seats. “We got tails,” Bill says. “For real?” He sounds nervous. “You’re serious?” “Yeah,” I grunt. “It’s fine, though.” Trace is young and I don’t think he’s been in a tight situation before. I want to keep him calm. But Miller does my job for me. “Relax,” he says to Trace, patting him on the shoulder. “Come watch this.” Miller holds out his phone and shows him some video. I smile gratefully and get to driving again. “I think we’re done for the day,” I say to no one in particular. Bill grunts his agreement. I head directly back to the hotel then. I don’t drive slowly, but I’m not taking my time, either. The cars stick right there behind me, not changing positions at all. Finally, I pull into the parking lot, and the cars slow down. I catch the drivers watching as they slowly roll past, staring at us as we park.

They disappear and I sit there a second, heart beating fast. “You good?” Bill asks softly as Trace and Miller hop out. “I’m good,” I say. “Fucking thug ass fuckers.” “We’re okay,” Bill says. “We’ll do what we can.” “Yeah,” I agree. “Come on. Let’s help them out.” Bill and I help Miller and Trace get the equipment inside, but the whole time I’m thinking about those two cars tailing us at the end. I know it was the Strips, and they kept their distance, but still. They’re clearly sending a message: We’re watching you. “How’d it go?” I’m pulled from my thoughts as Vivian appears from her room, stretching a little, a pair of black glasses perched on her nose. “Good,” I say. “We got what we needed.” She must be able to tell that I’m a little distracted, because she gets a little still and watches me closely. “What’s wrong?” she asks. I hesitate a second, but I don’t want to hide

anything from her. “Let’s talk in your room.” She nods and I follow her inside. I shut the door behind me and sit down on the little chair next to her bed. She sits across from me, smoothing the comforter next to her absently. “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I say suddenly. She blinks and takes them off with a little smile. “Forgot I had them on,” she says. “I get headaches if I stare at the screen too long. These help.” I grin at her. “You look good in them.” She screws her face up. “Careful there.” “Just stating a fact. They make you look…” “Smart?” she says, interrupting. “How original.” I laugh and lean back. “I was going to say sexy. But smart works too.” She blushes a little. “Stop changing the subject. What happened out there?” “We were followed,” I say. Her eyes go wide. “At the very end, and just for a little bit,” I quickly add. “The Strips?” she asks. “I guess so,” I muse. “Hard to say, but I don’t know who else would want to follow us around.”

“What did they do?” “Just hung nearby and watched us. They didn’t say anything or come near.” “But they were there,” she says softly. “Yeah, they were.” I hesitate a second and suddenly lean forward impulsively. I grab her hand and pull it against me. “Listen, Viv, I need to say something.” She watches me. “I’m not sure I want to hear it.” “I don’t think you should be here. Things are going to get… dangerous.” She watches me and slowly pulls her hand away. “You want me to leave,” she says. “Yes,” I admit. “I do.” She doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t react at all, actually, which surprises me. For a second, she looks down at the ground and doesn’t say anything. But after a moment, she looks up at me, her eyes flashing fierce. “No fucking way,” she says. “And you should know better than to ask that.” She’s right. I do know better. But god damn, I can’t help it. “Don’t you know I’m afraid for you?” I ask her. “Not for myself, not for the guys, but you.”

“You shouldn’t think of me any differently.” “But you know I do,” I say to her. I stand up and sit down next to her on the bed. She half turns toward me. “You know why, too.” “Henry,” she says softly. I reach out and take her hair in my palm. She lets out a soft, strangled sound as I pull her against me. “You know what I want from you,” I say, and the words come out hoarse. “I know,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “You think I don’t know? But we shouldn’t. Not after…” “After everything?” I finish for her. “I don’t care about the past.” “I’m not going anywhere,” she says. “We’ll see about that.” I kiss her before she can argue anymore, and she melts into my kiss. Her taste floods me, and I know I’m trapped, just as trapped as she is.

14

VIVIAN

I

should be livid. I should be yelling at him, throwing things, calling him a sexist and an asshole and something

worse. Instead, I’m kissing him, and I can’t help myself. This is what I was afraid of. The one thing I thought I’d never actually do. And yet here I am, kissing him on my bed, letting him pull my hair and press me close against his muscular body. The lips I swore I’d never kiss again. The boy that broke my heart. The man I want more than anything. He kisses my neck and I feel a sharp breath pull in between my teeth. His hands start to roam my body

and there’s a voice in the back of my head telling me to think about what I’m doing but I can’t. I’m done with thinking. I need this. I grab his hair and pull his mouth toward mine, kissing him hard and moving over, straddling him. I press my ass down in his lap and kiss him deeply. He grunts his pleasure and grabs the hem of my shirt, tugging it up over my head. I let him take it off, my hair spilling down around me as he tosses it onto the floor. I gasp as he kisses my neck and unhooks my bra. It slides off and he kisses my chest. “For years I’ve been picturing this,” he whispers, his hands cupping my breasts. “And you’re even fucking sexier than I could have imagined.” I smile despite myself and bite his lower lip. “How’s that?” I ask him. “These breasts… the way you taste… you drive me fucking insane, Viv.” He kisses me again deeply. I reach down and tug his shirt off, wanting to see his body. I pull it off and look at his rock hard abs and muscular chest. I kiss his neck as he reaches around and cups my ass. Suddenly he grabs me, lifts me up, and rolls to the

side. He pins me down on the bed, his weight on top of me. He grabs my wrists and puts them above my head as he kisses my lips, his tongue hungrily exploring mine. He releases my wrists and slides down my body, kissing my neck, my collarbone, my breasts, and my stomach. He unbuttons my jeans and slides them down off my body. I’m wearing a pair of teal panties with lace and he smirks at them. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?” he asks. I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Sure you did. That’s why you wore these sexy little panties.” He drops down to the floor and tugs my hips toward him, his mouth between my legs before I can think about it. He kisses my wet pussy above my panties, breathing me in deeply. “God damn,” he whispers. “You’re delicious.” He pushes my panties aside and finds my clit, sucking and licking it hungrily. “Just fucking perfect.” I gasp and grab his hair as he presses two fingers inside of me. I moan as he slides them deep, his tongue lapping at my pussy. Pleasure rockets through my body as he eats me like that, sucking and fucking my tight little pussy, driving me

absolutely wild. “Fuck, girl,” he grunts, reaching up to cup my breasts with his free hand. He drives his fingers deep inside of me. “Come here. Taste yourself.” He moves up and kisses me deeply. I can taste my pussy on his lips and I don’t mind at all. It drives me crazy that he’s so dirty. I kiss him full and deep, pulling his hair, wanting it rough, needing it so badly. He pulls back and pushes me back down before tugging my panties off. I’m completely naked as I prop myself up on my elbows. He stands and unbuckles his belt, pulling it out from the loops. I watch as he takes off his jeans and slowly slides his underwear down his tan, athletic legs. His cock is thick and long and hard as hell as he strokes it with one hand, his belt in the other. “What’s that for?” I ask him. “I’m going to take what I want,” he says to me. “And you’re going to let me. Do you understand?” I nod, my mouth hanging open. I want to taste that cock, feel it slick between my legs. He’s so hard and big and I’ve never wanted something so badly before in my life.

But he grabs me and rolls me over onto my stomach, putting me there. He grabs my wrists and pulls them behind my back before wrapping the belt around them. He tightens it like a cinch and ties it off, leaving me immobile like that. “Too tight?” he whispers in my ear. I shake my head. “What are you going to do to me?” “Only exactly what you want,” he says. He spreads my legs wide and gets me up on my knees, my face still down in the comforter. I watch as he slides his fingers inside of my pussy again and this time pleasure rockets through me. I’ve never been so aroused before. I can’t move, can’t fight him at all, and I need it so badly I can barely breathe. He pulls his fingers out and spits into his palm, slowly rubbing it along his hard shaft. I’m buzzing with desire and excitement, pulsing with need and pleasure as it all rushes through my body and my mind. He presses his cock against me and I take a sharp breath. He’s going to tear me apart. I know he is. He can’t help it. I gasp as he presses himself inside of me. He grips

the belt between my wrists and pulls me back against him. I moan and gasp as pleasure and pain rage through me. He’s so big, I’ve never felt a cock like this one in my entire life. But slowly, he fills me, sliding himself deep into my pussy. I gasp and look back at him. “That’s right,” he says. “Now you’re fucking mine, Vivian. You’re all fucking mine.” He begins to slide himself in and out and I moan as I wiggle my ass against him. I need it, want it harder and faster. I can feel the orgasm buzzing along my skin, waiting just inches away, but he’s teasing me, making it last. I want it so badly I could scream. He begins to rock into me as I pump back against him. I’m all his, every inch of me, and he treats me like his own personal property. He fucks me rougher, sliding deep inside of me. I feel him slap my ass hard and I gasp as the pleasure spikes through the pain. “This tight cunt is what I always imagined,” he said. “I always pictured the two of us, fucking until sweat poured from our bodies. But you’re quivering, Vivian. You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I moan in response. “God, I don’t know how. But I want it so badly.” He laughs softly, pumping harder into me. “I know why. It’s the anticipation. You’ve been waiting for this for years, and now that you’re getting it, you can barely control yourself.” I moan and push my hips back because I know he’s right. For as much as I hate him, I want him in equal measures. He slaps my ass again. “God, I love this thick ass and hips,” he says, slapping me again and again. “And these fucking lips.” He pulls my wrists, bringing my chest up off the bed, using both arms to hold me up. I look back as he kisses me like that, his cock buried in my pussy. “You’re my filthy, dirty girl,” he whispers in my ear. “And I’ll always give you what you want.” He presses me back down on the bed and starts to fuck me fast and rough. I gasp and moan, losing myself in the moment. I’m sweating, my wrists tied behind my back, and he’s expertly working my body, his cock buried in my tight pussy. But now he’s fucking me like an animal, clearly not holding back anymore. I gasp and moan, throwing my hair over my shoulder, craning my neck to

watch him. His body is built, tan and gorgeous, with ripped abs and a thick muscular chest. He grins at me and slaps my ass. “Good, watch me wreck this cunt,” he says. “I want you to see how fucking dirty you are.” He slams into me, pummeling me, driving himself deeper and deeper and I know I’m there, I know I can’t stop it anymore. This is what I want and he gives me what I want. The orgasm rips through me. My whole body tightens in response and my moans reach new depths. He doesn’t hold back, he just keeps pummeling into me, fucking me like a toy, using me for his own. That makes me come harder, pleasure blasting through my mind, bombastic and incredible. Just as the orgasm slowly ebbs and the final embers begin to darken, he slides himself out of me, pumping his cock with his hand. He pushes me over and rolls me onto my back, my hands pinned behind me. “Open your mouth,” he commands, and I do as he says. He comes in thick, warm spurts into my mouth. Some of it dribbles down onto my breasts but I

manage to get most of it onto my tongue. I swallow every single drop as he finishes, grunting deep. As he finishes, he smirks at me. “Nothing sexier than my cum on your perfect tits,” he says. I smile at him, sweating and breathing deep. He reaches forward and wipes it off me with his fingers and I meet his eyes. I open my mouth. “Wait,” I say, arching an eyebrow with a slight smile. His eyes go wide and a smile crosses his lips. He reaches out and presses his cum-covered fingers into my mouth and I suck it all off until he’s nice and clean. I swallow that, too, not wanting to waste a drop. He groans and kisses me again. As we kiss, he unbuckles the belt and releases my wrists. I pull him tight against me, greedy and still buzzing with need. I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock. I can feel him starting to stiffen again already. “Hard again?” I whisper. “You sucking that cum from my fingers…” He shakes his head. “I can’t help myself.” “I’m not sure I can handle you just yet.”

He smirks. “We’ll see.” He kisses me again and I know I have a lot more in store for me. I don’t know where this is going to go beyond this bedroom, but for right here, right now, just for tonight, I’m going to revel in him, in all the pleasure he can give me.

15

HENRY

A

s soon as I felt her, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

Trying to convince Viv to leave was a fool’s errand, and part of me knew it, but I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m afraid for her. I’m not scared for myself, or even for Trace or Miller or Bill, though I feel responsible for them too. But they’ve been in bad situations before on the job and they knew what they were signing on for. This is Vivian’s first job, and I can’t let her get hurt on it. Setting that aside, I’m also starting to feel things, the sort of things I thought I had gotten over years ago. But maybe I’m starting to realize something. Maybe my years of running around reporting on

stories was just my way of running away from my feelings. I never got over Viv, not completely at least, and I’ve always felt a sense of longing inside of me for something I couldn’t quite pin down. So I traveled, put myself in danger, all for the thrill of getting the story. That longing never went away though, and now it’s back and louder than ever. Every time I’m around her I feel it, stronger and stronger every day. Now it’s like a hurricane, threatening to tear me apart, and I don’t know what to do about it. I wake up a bit groggy from the night before. I realize that I’m still in bed with Viv, her body warm against my own. I never expected to sleep over here, but after hours of exploring each other, it looks like we both just passed out. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so soundly or deeply before, and it’s already pushing nine in the morning. I extract myself gently, not wanting to wake her up, and I get dressed. She stirs a bit but I manage to step out into the hall before I ruin her sleep. As I turn toward my room, I notice someone standing in the hallway. I look up and Bill grins at me, his eyebrows raised. “Long night working, boss?” he asks me.

I grimace. “Yes,” I say, and hesitate before adding, “and you didn’t see me.” “’Course not,” he says. I step over to my door, fucking annoyed that I ran into someone. Of course the one day Bill’s up before ten and he catches me sneaking out of Vivian’s room like a fucking teenager or something. I swipe my card and before I can step inside, Bill clears his throat. I turn back to him. “Don’t fuck it up,” he says to me. I raise an eyebrow, not sure what to say. He grins and keeps on going down the hall, toward the elevators. I sigh and step into my room, the door shutting softly behind me. I guess Bill approved of this little… whatever it is, or whatever he thinks it is. He probably shouldn’t, considering not sleeping with someone on the job is basically one of the most serious unspoken rules. We’re supposed to stay unbiased out here, and fucking around typically only ruins any objectivity you may have. I guess he doesn’t care about that. But he’s right about one thing: I don’t want to fuck this up. I sit down on my bed and an idea comes to me. It’s probably stupid and definitely extravagant, but it

might work. Besides, I have the money to do it. I’m paid very well for what I do, but I don’t really own anything. I pay rent on an apartment I barely stay in, and WBN pays for all my bills when I’m on the road. I have tons of cash in reserve just sitting around doing nothing. So I grab my phone and make a call. Sir Michael answers on the third ring. “Henry, old chap,” he says in his over-the-top British accent. I’m not sure how real it is, since he was born in New Jersey, although he lived in London for about ten years. He’s in his fifties, stocky and thick. I met him on one of our trips into the Middle East. “Sir Michael,” I say. “How are you?” “Great, just great. Sunning myself in the lovely California weather at the moment. And what can I do for you?” “I was hoping I could hire a couple guys,” I say. Sir Michael is in security. That’s a nice way of saying he runs a company of mercenaries for hire. They’re all ex-military guys, very dependable, and they’re essentially muscle for hire. I know Sir Michael does work with companies all over the States, and I’m pretty sure he even contracts out to

the government. He’s like Blackwater, but less public, and much more efficient. “Of course,” he answers swiftly. “When and where?” “As soon as possible and Sellersville, Alabama.” “I can get two of my best out by tonight. And how will you be paying?” “Usual rate?” I ask. “For you, Henry, I’ll give you a little break. I assume it’s on the company’s dime?” “Not this time,” I say. “Gotta pay out of pocket.” He hesitates. “You know my guys aren’t cheap,” he says. “I know. We’re in a hairy situation here and I don’t have time for red tape.” “Gangs?” he asks. “Yeah,” I confirm. “Doing a story about the opioid epidemic and some locals aren’t too happy we’re poking around.” “Understood. That’s some nasty stuff, my good friend. Send me where you’re staying and I’ll have the guys over soon.”

“Thanks, Sir Michael. You saved my ass.” “Always glad to help you out, chap. Right-o, have to go see a man about a whisky, if you know what I mean.” With that, he hangs up the phone, and I feel a million times better. This is going to be expensive. There’s no two ways around it. I’m going to shell out some serious money for these guys, but I know and trust and like Sir Michael, and I know he’ll send guys I can count on. Maybe they won’t be able to fight off an entire gang, but they’ll be able to save our ass in a pinch if necessary. And most importantly, I’ll make sure they understand that their whole job is to keep Vivian safe. No matter what, even if I’m in trouble, they save Vivian. I doubt anything will happen, but I already feel a million times better. I check today’s schedule, sigh, and show up. We have just one interview, with a woman who claims to have had four family members taken by fentanyl in the last five years. I’m skeptical of this one, and thought about canceling it, but we have nothing else going on. She hasn’t gotten in touch to tell us not to come, so we might as well follow through with it.

I can’t stop thinking about Viv as I clean up and get ready. I keep feeling her from the night before, her skin tight against mine, her breath hot in my ears. I even get hard as I think about the way her pussy felt, soaking wet and warm, wrapped around my hard cock. By the time I’m cleaned and prepped, everyone’s waiting for me down in the lobby already, including Viv. I try and read her expression but she looks no different than usual. “Last one down today, huh, boss?” Trace says with an easy smile. For a second I think Bill told him, but no, Trace is just like that. “Just one interview on the docket today,” I say, ignoring Trace’s comment. “You guys all set?” “Sure are,” Bill cuts in. “Stuff’s all packed away. We’re ready to roll.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “You packed the van ahead of time? I’m honestly amazed.” “Helps that I didn’t drink last night,” he says. “Yes, you did,” Miller snaps out, grinning. Bill hesitates then shrugs. “Well, not a lot, at least.”

I laugh and we all head outside. We pile into the van, I put the woman’s address into my GPS, and we roll out. I keep glancing at Viv as we drive, but I need to keep this professional. I don’t want Bill to think that I’m all fucked up now just because I had sex with Vivian. I’m still a pro, I can still lead this little team and get this story done. So I have to keep it cool and not let last night get to me. We pass through downtown and soon we’re on the very edges of town, where the roads are mostly dirt and there’s a lot of space between families. I manage to find a mailbox with the right address written on the side in white paint. We turn down the gravel driveway and follow it through what looks like an overgrown lot until the house appears around a bend. I’ve seen a lot of movies, and this house looks like it’s straight out of Gone with the Wind. It’s a southern plantation house, with big columns around the front and a porch above and below. White shutters frame each window, or at least they used to be white. The place is slowly being reclaimed by the landscape, and ivy is growing up around the sides. Everything is chipped and weathered, and I’m pretty sure those steps are about to rot out any second.

We park and I turn around. “You guys ready?” Trace shakes his head. “Hell no, man. We’re going to die in there.” “It’s not that bad,” Vivian says, rolling her eyes. “No, I mean, the ghosts.” He stares at me, dead serious. “This place has got to be haunted.” I crack a laugh at him and open my door. “I’ll keep you safe,” I say as I climb out and breathe the fresh Alabama air. Viv follows me to the front door as the guys unload the van. “You sure about this?” she says softly. “I kind of agree with Trace.” I smirk at her. “No ghosts here. Trust me.” She shrugs, indifferent, as I approach and knock on the big wood door. After a minute, I knock again, and I’m starting to think nobody is home when suddenly a plucky old woman appears, yanking the handle in toward her. “You the journalists?” she says immediately. I nod. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Henry and this is Vivian.” “I’m Patricia, call me Pat.” She eyes me for a second. “Guess you’d better bring all that crap to the sunroom.”

Pat can’t be taller than five feet, but she’s stocky, almost hefty. Her hair is gray and white, a tangled braid pulled back and hanging down over her shoulder. She’s wearing simple jeans, a white tshirt, and a light blue apron. “I was just in the garden,” she says as we follow her inside. “Weeding and planting and all that, you know. Hate it out there, but there’s nothing else, now that everyone’s dead.” Her last comment hits me like a hammer, but she says it so casually that I can barely believe it. “Excuse me?” I ask her. “Everyone’s dead,” she says, giving me a look. “Ain’t that why you’re here?” “Of course,” Viv says quickly, covering for my awkward reaction. That comment really threw me off, but thankfully Viv is always so composed. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.” The house is surprisingly clean inside. Pictures line the walls, some of them paintings, but most of them are old and faded portraits of people. I suspect they’re Pat’s family, and I catch some glimpses of people that resemble her in a vague way, but I don’t have time to study them too much. We head through a large kitchen and end up in a

back covered room that looks like it was once a porch, but now is covered and insulated. “Here we go,” Pat says. “Good light in here.” She plops down on a big red chair in the corner. “So, what do you want to know?” “May I?” Viv asks, pointing at a chair. Pat nods with a smile and Viv sits. “Pat, we just want to get your story. We have a bunch of questions, but if you just want to tell it, we don’t have to ask them.” She shrugs a little bit. “I got lots to say, but questions help.” “Okay, good.” Viv looks at me. “Let’s get set up.” I quickly head outside and help the guys bring in the equipment. Pat looks at everything distastefully but doesn’t complain as Bill, Trace, and Miller take over her little sunroom and fills it with their stuff. Eventually we get everything ready (“light really is good in here,” Bill says) and Viv finally turns to Pat, the cameras rolling. “So, Patricia Stream. How long have you been here?” “Generations,” she says. “My great grandfather bought this farm, not much of a farm anymore, you now, but here we are.” She launches into the story of her entire family, starting with the great

grandfather and finally finishing with her own birth. It takes a half hour, but it’s obvious that you can’t interrupt Pat, not unless you want a dirty look. I’m amazed all over again at Viv’s professionalism and tact. She managed to slowly draw Pat out, make her more comfortable with this strange process, and soon she’s talking about the family members that died. First, she lost her first grandson. He OD’d alone in an abandoned shed and they didn’t find him for a week. Next she lost her daughter and her son in quick succession, her daughter from suicide, and her son in a car accident where the other driver was high. After that, her sister’s daughter OD’d, and her sister died not long later of a broken heart, according to Pat. “And those are just my close family members,” she says. “Can’t tell you how many cousins, second cousins, and other random people I’ve lost over the years to this goddamn drug. We’ve been here a long time, and you best believe my family is everywhere, or at least we used to be.” Vivian is quiet and sympathetic, letting Pat do most of the talking. Finally, after she finishes a rambling story about a neighbor of hers that was selling the stuff, Viv cuts to the chase.

“Pat, what do you know about the gangs around here?” She pauses a second. “Those idiot boys that call themselves the Strips?” she asks. “Yes, them,” Viv says. “Buncha sick bastards that don’t care about killing their neighbors if it means they can make a quick buck.” She scowls and shakes her head. “I hate those idiots.” She launches into a list of members, boys she says grew up in this town and who she knows personally. I meet Viv’s gaze for a moment and I can read the look on her face: jackpot. We talk for another hour or so, and finally I can tell Pat’s getting tired. Viv finishes the interview not long after, and we pack everything up as Viv helps Pat upstairs. When she’s done, she comes back down and picks up a microphone box. “That was good,” she says softly. “How much of that was true?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “Hard to say. We’ll have to verify it all.” “Yeah,” I agree. “But these names… if they’re real, this is gold.”

“I know. That was worth the drive alone.” Her eyes meet mine and I feel that spark again. I want to say something, reach out and touch her face, but I know I can’t. The guys are all around us, packing equipment and making a fuss. Trace is making a joke about southerners that’s in pretty poor taste, and Bill is musing about a cute cousin he once had a crush on as a kid. Miller is silently judging them both. I let the moment pass and go back to work. As much as I want to show her how I feel, I know I can’t, not here at least. Last night was special, intense, but it was probably a mistake. I should have waited until we finished this story to touch her like that. I just couldn’t bring myself to hold back. Not when she looks like that. Not when she clearly wants me just as much. We finish loading the van, and although my mind is firmly on Vivian and what I want to do to her when we get back, I know there’s a lot of work to do. And finally, we have some worthwhile footage. Maybe this whole thing isn’t going to be a wreck after all.

16

VIVIAN

T

hat was probably the hardest interview of my life, but not because Pat was difficult at all. I’ve met a million women like Pat. She’s strong, fiercely independent, and incredibly familyoriented. She’s tied to the land in the way any multi-generation family gets when they stay in one spot. For her, history is everything. And she’s watched her entire family decimated, one after the other, because of the opioid epidemic. That’s something I can understand. Not because I have any firsthand experience with it, but because I can comprehend it intellectually. I’m not emotionally attached to any of it. I sized Pat up immediately and I knew what I had to do to get her

talking. From there, things were pretty easy, since she’s more than willing to tell us her story. She wants revenge against the people that did her wrong, and she’s not backing down. I respect that. And I want to try and emulate that. No, that interview was hard because every time I saw Henry, I wanted to kiss him. It’s an irrational but intense desire, and part of me hates it. I don’t want to feel like a little puppy dog around him, not after what he did. But last night, it blew my fucking mind, to be cliché about it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so… liberated before. His body just clicked with mine. We fell into each other and I never wanted or needed to stop, not that night at least. I let myself feel it, really feel it without any hesitation. That night, he was fire and I was freezing, and the only way to feel good was to get as close to him as possible. But the next morning, he was gone. He didn’t say a word to me in the morning, and I woke up to the sound of the door clicking shut behind him. I don’t know why he snuck off, but I can probably guess. All day, I kept stealing glances at him, but he never looked back. He never gave any indication that

what happened the night before was important to him. He had a million chances to pull me aside and say something, absolutely anything to make me feel better about it. Instead, I just felt more and more used as the day dragged past. I couldn’t let that get in the way of my work, and I didn’t. But now, back at the hotel, I can feel that anger and resentment starting to bubble. “Want to go over the footage?” he asks me, leaning in the doorway to my room. I shrug a little. “Sure, can’t hurt.” “Come on. You’re gonna like it.” I follow him into his room. He has his laptop set up on the desk and I lean up behind him as he scrolls through the footage. It’s raw, but it looks fantastic. Pat was right, the lighting in that room was beautiful. It filters down around her like a halo and instead of the rough, tough woman I know she really is, she looks like some kind of savior angel or something. “Right there, you see what you did there?” Henry asks, rewinding the footage. “It looked like she was about to clam up, but you somehow made her feel at ease again. How do you do that?”

I shrug a little bit. “I don’t know, honestly,” I admit. “I guess I just figured her out.” “It’s impressive,” he murmurs as we skim through the footage. Soon, I forget about my anger. It’s not gone, not at all, but it’s just simmering below the surface. I can ignore it, because we have a job to do. And I want to do this job well, as well as I possibly can. Still, I keep getting glimpses of that anger underneath what I’m saying and doing. We get through about half of the footage before we stop on a moment where Pat’s getting a bit choked up. It’s only a brief moment, because a second later she steels herself and pushes forward with her story. It’s not a graceful moment, and it didn’t film particularly well, but Henry stops on it. “We gotta keep this,” he says. I frown at him. “Seriously?” “Seriously,” he says, nodding vigorously. “It humanizes her, you know? Up until now, she’s just this tough old lady, but this gives her a little emotional depth.” I take a sharp breath. “I can’t disagree more,” I say.

He looks surprised. “Really? This is the big moment, the humanizing moment. We always show them crying.” I take a deep breath and get my thoughts together. I know I’m the novice in this room, and I am definitely mad at him for pretending like nothing’s happening between us all day today, but this is important to me. “That’s not the kind of woman she is,” I say. “She just watched her whole family die, but she’s still gardening. She’s soldiering on, moving forward. She’s strong, unbelievable strong, and poised. If we show her crying, that’ll lighten her image, but I don’t want her light.” He leans back in his chair and swivels a bit toward me. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t see it, honestly.” I move away from him, toward the bed. “She’s not some weak, crying woman. We always make women softer than they have to be. But I don’t want Pat to be soft, because she’s far from it.” “We can’t make her look like an emotionless monster,” he says to me. “We need the crying.” “There’s more emotion in everything she says than you or I can feel in a year,” I say to him. “We don’t

need the crying.” He stares at me and sighs. “I can’t bend on this. I’ve done enough of these stories now to know that we need this moment, Viv.” There it is, that’s what I was expecting him to say. I know what that’s code for. I know better than you do. “It’s my story,” I say through a clenched jaw. “And we’re doing it my way. The crying gets cut.” He looks a little surprised, but I don’t give a shit. I’m getting what I want here, because I know I’m right. And after all, this is my story, and it should be my vision that moves this forward, not him. “I think you’re wrong about this,” he says. “I don’t care. It’s what we’re doing.” He looks surprised and I actually feel a little bad. I know I shouldn’t blow up on him like this, but I can’t help it. All that anger is bubbling up now and I can’t help it. “Maybe we should take a little break,” he says to me. “Yeah, perfect. I think that’d be great.” Without another word, I turn and leave the room.

I feel stupid. I know I shouldn’t have blown up like that. I need to keep things professional, or at least I can’t let my personal anger bleed over into work sessions. I just can’t help it. I’m a passionate person, and I truly believe that I was right back there. He wasn’t being unreasonable. He was making his arguments based on his experience, and most of the time he’s probably right. But I wasn’t going to let him make that decision for me. I believe this is the right thing to do, and I want my first story to be mine, not his. I am worried, though. I’m worried I won’t be able to keep things separate. I’m worried it’s just going to get worse from here. But most of all, I’m worried that these feelings are going to go away when this is all over.

17

HENRY

I

’m not sure what to think once Viv is gone from my hotel room, but I know one thing for sure. That wasn’t just about our disagreement over how to handle that scene. I mean, I understand why she’d be pissed. I get that it’s her story and she wants more creative control over it. Technically, the final cut is in my hands, but normally I let the journalist take the lead and I defer to him or her. But sometimes, I have to make a call as I see it and make the changes that I know will most benefit the story. This is a hard case, though. I can see her argument, and her passion is obvious, but the way she reacted… it has to be more than just business.

That worries the fuck out of me. I don’t want our personal attachment to get in the way of our professional situation, but clearly that’s happening. If she were any other coworker, I’d be annoyed that she got angry, but I’d still make the change. Instead, I’m sitting here agonizing over her motivation, and seriously considering just doing what she wants. She could be right, after all. Her perception of Pat is similar to my own, but with one clear difference: she values that standoffish strength, whereas I feel that it won’t be likeable or relatable. I need people to really get invested in this story, to really start to give a fuck about this town and about what’s going on in America. I’m worried that using Pat without humanizing her will turn some people off. I could be wrong, though. Of course I can be wrong. But with any other person, I’d be making the change and moving on. I can’t do that with Vivian, though. I decide to skip the scene for now and to continue working. I have a nagging feeling in the back of my head, and I can’t completely forget about Viv, but I push forward regardless. I need to get some of this stuff finished, since we won’t have all that much time once we’re back in Philly to finalize all this footage.

After a few hours of watching, I get a text. Immediately I think it might be Viv, but instead it’s from a number that I don’t recognize. “The cavalry is here, Mr. Walsh.” I stare at the message and it takes a second before I understand what it means. This morning feels like it was a lifetime ago already, and I forgot all about my phone call to my security guy. I stand up and stretch a little. I head out into the hallway and knock on Viv’s door. She answers after a minute, looking a little tired. “Come downstairs,” I say to her. “I have some people you have to meet.” She raises an eyebrow. “Right now?” I nod. “I mean, take a second, but yeah.” “Okay, hold on.” She disappears back into her room. A minute later, she comes back out and we head down the hall together. I can feel the tension still, but I’m trying to ignore it. We shouldn’t be fighting at all, it’s totally stupid and absurd. It’s just all this unresolved tension between us, and I don’t think either of us know what’s going on here at all. We get to the elevator and step in. Viv half turns

toward me as the doors shut. “Look, about earlier,” she starts. “You don’t have to,” I say. “No, listen. I think I’m right about the direction to go in with Pat, but I didn’t need to take it so personally. It’s just…” “Whatever’s between us,” I finish for her. She pauses for a second and meets my gaze. It’s like lightning crackling between us. “Yeah,” she says. “I get it. I mean, I think you’re wrong, but I’m probably going to bend and let you have your way.” She grins at me. “You’re that type of guy, huh?” “What type?” The elevator reaches the bottom and the doors start to slide open. “The type to let me get my way.” She steps out into the lobby. “No, that’s not it at all,” I say quickly. She grins at me and winks. “It’s okay, Henry. I already knew that about you.” I sigh and can’t help but grin back. As frustrating as

she is, she can still make me smile whenever she wants. We walk out into the lobby and I immediately spot the guys we’re here to meet, although I wasn’t given any descriptions. It’s just, when you know what you’re looking for, you can always spot one of these security guys. They’re both white, in their mid-thirties, with short dark hair and nondescript clothing. They’re both in khakis, slightly baggy, with a ton of pockets. One has a dark windbreaker and the other has a dark sweatshirt, obviously to conceal their weapons. One is slightly taller than the other, but I honestly can’t tell them apart as we approach. The man in the windbreaker steps forward. “Henry Walsh?” he asks. I nod, extended my hand. We shake. “Thanks for coming,” I say. “Pleasure to help,” he says. “I’m Claude and this is my brother, Jean.” I look between them and that explains the intense resemblance. “Thanks again, guys. This is my colleague, Vivian.” Vivian smiles and shakes their hands, and I can tell she’s not sure who they are and what they’re doing

here. I give Claude a look and I hope he understands: this is the one you’re meant to protect. He gives me a little nod as the moment passes between us. “Vivian, Clause and Jean are our new security guys.” She pauses, clearly surprised. “Security?” she asks. “Think of us as bodyguards, if you’d like,” Claude says. Jean hangs back, surveying the room. “Excuse me for a second, guys?” Viv turns to me and drags me away from the two of them. Once we’re on the other side of the lobby, she turns on me. “What the hell is this?” “It’s just a precaution.” “You hired… security?” She shakes her head, bewildered. “We can’t be in that much danger.” “Viv,” I say softly. “We are.” She watches me before sighing. “I knew it was bad, but…” “It’s fine now,” I say. “I know a guy from a few other jobs. I called him up and he sent these two.” “And you trust him?” she asks. “I mean, I assume they’re dependable?”

“They’re dependable,” I say. “I’m paying them well, at least.” She arches an eyebrow. “The network isn’t paying for this?” “Ah, uh…” I shake my head. “No, I guess not.” “You guess not?” She sighs. “Damn it, Henry. Did you do this for me?” “You wouldn’t leave, what was I supposed—“ “Henry!” She pushes me a little. “This is crazy. I can handle myself.” “I don’t doubt it,” I say, grinning. “But it’s not only for you. It’s for all of us.” “If I weren’t here, would you have gotten them?” “No,” I admit. “Sexist! Because you’re a bunch of big strong men, you think you’re safe. You want to protect the little girl, huh?” I laugh and shake my head, unable to help myself. She’s so cute when she’s angry, especially when she’s making a decent point. I mean, she’s totally right that I only hired them because I want to make sure she’s safe. And there’s something about her being a woman that made me do it, too.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say to her. “No, really, it doesn’t. I know you’re annoyed. But we need them.” She bites her lip and crosses her arms. God damn, it makes me want to kiss her. “Seriously Henry. I can’t have you paying for this.” “Sure, you can. I want all of us to stay safe. And I’m not backing down on this.” She matches my gaze, steady and serious, before finally nodding. “Okay then. But we’re going in my direction with Pat.” She extends her hand. “Deal?” I sigh. “Fine. Deal.” I shake her hand but before she can pull it away, I yank her toward me. She stumbles and lands, hands on my chest, and I kiss her quickly on the lips. “Hey,” she says, smiling and stepping away. “Knock it off. Someone might see.” I shrug. “I’m willing to take that chance.” She gives me a look and heads back out toward the security guys. I watch as she approaches them and they start talking. I watch her from a distance for a second, unable to stop from smiling. In the end, we both got what we wanted. I get the guards to keep her safe, and she’s going to get her

way with the story. I can’t say that I’m surprised, but I do like that it makes us both somewhat equal. Maybe I’m making a big mistake here, letting myself get deeper into this with her. Maybe I should step back and treat her like any other colleague out there. I just can’t do it. I can’t help myself. Not when Vivian is back in my life after what I did all those years ago. I can’t risk fucking something up again. I want to give her everything, make her as happy as possibly, but I’m torn between my duties as a producer and my personal desires. In the end, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m going to do whatever I want, and I want to keep her safe. So if I have to spend a small fortune on these two guys, so be it. She’ll be safer, and I’ll feel better. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

18

VIVIAN

I

know I shouldn’t be out walking around town in the middle of the night, but I can’t help myself.

It’s been a busy day. I had sex with Henry last night, we got a good interview for our story, and then these security guys show up. Claude and Jean, the most cliché French-sounding names. Turns out, they’re both from Quebec, which makes sense, though I’m not sure what they’re doing in Alabama. Still, they seem competent. And I feel better with them around. Especially right now. I glance over my shoulder and sure enough, there’s Jean, tailing me at a respectable distance. I tried to leave without him, but he was adamant that if I’m going for a walk, he’s coming with me.

I can’t say I fought him too hard. The fact that Henry got these guys is putting me on edge a bit. I knew this was dangerous, but I had no clue that it was worth hiring freaking mercenaries or whatever they are. He calls them security, but they don’t look like normal security. Frankly, they’re scary, and they have that same sort of look that Henry sometimes gets, like he’s really looking around the room and seeing it. I don’t know what that’s all about, but it’s all keeping me awake. I can’t sleep and sometimes when it gets bad, getting some fresh air really helps. I know it’s maybe stupid and reckless, but I doubt the Strips are out right now. It’s one in the morning and we’re not even downtown. There’s nothing around here but a few closed-down businesses and some residential addresses. I glance back at Jean and sigh to myself. I can’t relax with him trailing after me, but I want to be alone with my thoughts right now. I need to figure out what I’m going to do about Henry. I should be concentrating on this story and planning on what our next move is, but I know I’m well past that. Maybe I’m like a stupid little girl again but I can’t get him out of my brain. It’s the way he looks at me, with that cocky, selfassured smile. I remember it from all those years

ago, but now it’s on the face of a full-grown man. There’s more depth to him now, like everything has shifted and gotten more full. Every gesture and comment has so much more weight. And last night felt good… so good. It’s hard to even explain how I could lose myself like that. I’m normally so careful, especially after he broke my heart the first time. I’ve been with guys, even had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing ever stuck. I never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. I’ve been like that for years. I don’t take big risks because I don’t want to get wrecked again. Anyone can step into your life and blow it all up if you trust them and you let them, but I keep promising myself that I won’t do that. I won’t let someone hurt me ever again. Suddenly though, Henry’s back and it’s like I never made those promises to myself. As soon as I saw him again, I completely dropped my defenses. Well, maybe not completely, but pretty darn close. I feel so exposed around him, but in a good way. And not just when we’re together in my room, fooling around. I feel it all the time, every second we’re around each other. It’s stupid, but I don’t know what to do. Even when I’m annoyed with him, it’s not really about him, it’s

about me. It’s about what I want and all the anger I still have toward him. I can’t help it. What happened between us was so long ago, and we were just kids back then, but still… it hurt, more than you could imagine. I can still see him in those weeks after we first broke up. It was like he was a new guy, a bigger asshole. One morning I saw him alone at his locker, and decided to say hello, like we always did. I went up to him but instead of smiling, he turned away from me, turning his back to me. I watched as he hurried away. We made eye contact, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. A couple days later, I saw him in the hall and smiled, but he just frowned and looked away. I tried calling once, a month after we broke up, just to see how he was doing. That was a mistake. When he answered, he didn’t bother trying to have small talk. He just told me to stop calling him, and hung up the phone. It devastated me. It was the silence that really did it. I have no clue how he turned it all off and went from loving me, making plans with me, to suddenly wanting nothing to do with me. It showed me that people can do horrible, ugly things for no reason, and it made me never want to trust again.

I come up to a bend in the road and I risk another glance over my shoulder. This time, I’m surprised to find that Jean isn’t there anymore. I stop walking and turn around, looking for him, my heart racing. “Vivian,” a voice calls out. I nearly jump out of my fucking skin. I spot Henry hurrying toward me from across the street. “What are you doing?” I hiss at him. “Coming to check on you.” He frowns at me. “Sorry, did I scare you?” “Yes!” My heart is beating a million miles per hour in my chest. For a second, I thought the Strips were coming for me. “Where’s Jean?” “I had him go back.” He grins at me. “Look what he made me take.” He lifts his shirt up and shows me a gun, tucked into his jeans.” “Henry,” I say, “what the hell? Can you use that thing?” “Sure,” he says. “I have a gun license back in Philly.” “For some reason, that’s not making me feel better.” He grins at me and shrugs. “I was in a war zone.

You think I didn’t have my own protection out there? Anyway, I wouldn’t worry. We won’t need it.” He starts walking and I move to catch up with him. I bite my lip, not sure what he’s doing out here. “How’d you know I was out?” I ask. “Jean told Claude and Claude told me.” He cocks his head at me. “You really shouldn’t be out here, by the way.” “Are you spying on me?” “No,” he says seriously. “I told them not to keep tabs on you like that anymore. But since you’re here… well, I guess I figured I’d join you.” I take a deep breath and let it out. I can feel all my anger and resentment still bubbling, but for a second, I manage to let it go. “What are you doing, anyway?” he asks me. “Can’t sleep,” I say. “Walking helps sometimes.” “Yeah,” he says, looking down the street. “I can’t sleep either.” We walk past an abandoned house and he stops. I walks past him a bit and turn back as he looks up at the boarded windows, the dilapidated porch, the sagging shutters.

“Used to be beautiful, I bet,” he says. He turns and looks at me. “Come on.” “Henry, wait,” I say, but he’s already walking toward it. I hurry to follow him as he skirts along the outside of the house and finally hops over the fence, a big tall wooden thing that creeks as he climbs it. “Henry,” I whisper. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Someone could be inside.” “Holy crap,” he says. “You got to see this.” “Henry,” I say. “Come on, I know you can jump it.” I hesitate a second. “This is a bad idea.” “You scared?” I clench my jaw. I’m not scared, not at all. I grab onto the fence and hoist myself up, managing to climb up and over it. As I fall down the other side, he catches me, steadying me with his hands on my hips. “Uh, thanks,” I say, as flashes of skin and memory hit me. “Sure,” he whispers, lips close to mine. “Come on.”

He leads me a little further back into the yard. It’s pretty overgrown with weeds, but it looks like any other yard out there. As soon as we get around the corner though, I see what he was talking about. “Holy crap,” I say. “I know, right?” In the middle of the yard, surrounded by nothing but overgrown green and weeds, is an enormous fountain. It looks like twenty feet in diameter, at least, maybe more. The statues in the middle are two lions fighting with each other, and one of them has a bunch of arrows spouting from its body. “Must have cost a fortune,” he says, walking toward it. “I mean, why have a fountain back here?” He shakes his head. “There’s nothing else around.” He’s right, it seems really odd. There’s no furniture, no deck, no paving stones, nothing. Just a fountain in the middle of an otherwise empty yard. “It’s pretty cool,” I admit to him. “I mean, I’d put it in my yard.” He laughs and sits on the rim. “I think I would, too.” I sit down next to him. The house is totally silent

and dark, and the windows in the back are boarded up as well. It doesn’t look like anyone’s broken in, which is good. Means the place probably isn’t full of meth heads or something. I glance over at Henry and he’s looking at me. “What?” I ask him. “I was just thinking,” he says softly. “What?” I ask again, tipping my head toward him. “I’m glad you went to Harvard, you know,” he says. “Yeah, you basically forced me into it,” I say, a little harsher than I meant. He winces at that. “Yeah, I know.” “You were an ass back then.” “I know that, too,” he says. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” “If you didn’t want me anymore…” I trail off, not sure where to go. “I wanted you,” he says, and I’m surprised by the intensity in his voice. “I wanted you so badly, Viv. But you were talking about throwing away Harvard for me. Freaking Harvard. A full ride. Do you know how valuable that is?”

“Yes,” I say softly. “I know.” “You wanted to throw it away and come to some shitty state school with me. I couldn’t let you do it. I couldn’t live with that.” “That wasn’t your choice to make,” I say to him. “Why didn’t you just say this to me back then?” “I did,” he says, and I realize he’s practically pleading. “I tried to convince you, over and over, but you just ignored me. You couldn’t see the mistake you were making.” And it hits me right there. It all suddenly hits me. I remember the conversations about our future, how serious I was back then about being with him. I was ready to go anywhere with him. We had applied to a few schools together and gotten into most of them. I was ready to do anything he wanted. “I couldn’t let you do it,” he says softly. “So I decided to make the biggest mistake of my life.” “You did that to get me to go to Harvard?” I ask him, surprised by how stupid it sounds. “Yes,” he says, sighing. “God, it feels good to finally say it. I pushed you away like a fucking moron, even though I was in love with you. I just couldn’t let you throw away your future for me.”

I stare at him, not sure what to say. It all makes sense now, though. He never stopped having feelings for me out of the blue. He always loved me. And he pushed me away for my own good. “That’s why you ignored me,” I say softly. “You weren’t just being cruel.” “I changed my whole life,” he says. “Changed all my friends. Burned a few bridges. People thought I was a horrible person, for what I did to you, but I didn’t care. And when I heard that you went to Harvard… I was happy.” “It’s just a school,” I say. “I could have been fine without it.” “Maybe,” he says, “but how many opportunities have you had because of that school?” “Everything,” I admit. “God, Henry. It’s been easier to hate you, you know.” “Yeah, well, I was still a dick back then. I could have gone about it better.” “Yeah,” I agree with him. “You could have.” I lean up against him, my heart beating fast. I feel like I’m dizzy, trying to take all this in, and I have no clue what to say. He sacrificed for me. He forced me into a choice,

and that’s a shitty thing, but we really were kids back then. And he was doing it for a good reason. I’m glad he did on some level. I had some amazing experiences at Harvard, learned some incredible things, met some amazing people. My life is what it is now because of that decision. He changed my life in a way I can never really understand, and he was just a kid back then. He saw far enough into the future to know that I had to take that opportunity. I hated him. I was so angry with him. I went to Harvard just to get away from him, but it turns out that’s what he wanted all along. He leans toward me and I kiss him. I kiss him hard, his taste flooding my mouth, desire for him taking over every fiber in my being. I can’t believe he did that, he’s such a fucking asshole, but nobody in my life has ever cared about me enough to do something so stupid and reckless for me. Maybe he broke my heart. But he’s back now, and I understand why he did what he did. As we kiss, I can feel the anger, the resentment, everything begin to melt away. It’s just me and Henry, grown up now, kissing on an abandoned fountain behind an empty, boarded-up house. And it feels so good I can barely breathe.

19

HENRY

I

can hear the crickets in the tall grass, the sound of the wind rushing through the empty house, and my own heart beating so hard in my chest that I think I might pass out. I kiss her harder, feeling like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I’ve been wanting to tell her the truth for years, but I’ve been so afraid of how she’d react. I pictured it a million times, saw a billion different scenarios, but I couldn’t have guessed it would lead to this. I never saw it coming. I assumed she’d be angry, or disappointed, or something like that. Instead, my tongue is stroking hers as I pull her tighter against me in this empty backyard, sitting up against the

rough rim of the enormous fountain. I need her so badly I can barely breathe. I run my hand through her hair and tip her head back, kissing her neck, making her gasp. “I thought you’d be angry,” I say to her. “I thought you’d be disappointed.” She runs her fingers down my sides. “I’m not,” she whispers. I look up at her and kiss her lips again. “All this time. I wish I told you sooner.” “Me too,” she says, a slight smile on her lips. “I’m still a little mad, though. I mean, you were a dick.” “I was,” I agree. “But a dick for a good cause.” “That’s how I like to see it.” She grins and I kiss her again, not able to help myself. I’m so starving for her that it’s almost unreal. I feel like a teenager again, my cock hard as hell. It’s like I’ve never touched her before, or like I’m touching her for the very first time. I feel her hand slide up my thigh and she finds my hard cock, straining through my jeans. “Is this why you followed me out here tonight?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I say. “I wanted to fuck you so badly I couldn’t wait for you to come back.” “Dirty boy,” she says, grinning. I pull her hair back. “And you fucking like it.” I kiss her neck and pull the hem of her shirt up over her full breasts. I kiss her chest and unhook her bra before pushing it up as well. I tease her nipples with my tongue and hand as she moans. I keep a firm grip on her hair with one hand as I gently bite and tease her nipples. I kiss slowly down her chest, heart racing. “I’m afraid someone might see,” she whispers. “I don’t care,” I say. “Let them watch.” She bites her lip. She’s so fucking beautiful in the moonlight and I can barely stop myself. I drop down to my knees in front of her and unbutton her jeans. I tug them up over her hips and she lets me pull them off. I press my face between her legs and breathe deep of her soaking pussy smell. I love it, savoring the warmth, as I push aside her wet panties and start to lap her up. My tongue rolls along her skin and I love her taste. My cock is even harder and I know this is dangerous, going down on her right in the back

yard of some abandoned house. Truth is, there could be people inside there, watching us right now. For some reason, I just don’t care. The weight of the gun slipped into my waistband reassures me, or at least makes me think I can take care of anything that happens. As soon as my tongue touches her soaking clit and those first moans escape her lips, I know I’m not stopping. I have to get exactly what I want, right here and now. There’s no walking back to the hotel room. I’m taking this moment and I’m owning it. I’m making her mine. I press two fingers deep inside her pussy and look up. She’s gasping, her breasts slightly exposed underneath her loose bra and shirt. I sit up and pull her down to me by the hair, kissing her deep, letting her taste her own wetness. She moans into my mouth as I fuck her pussy with my fingers, greedy for her pleasure. Slowly I stand, sliding my fingers back out. She reaches forward instantly and unbuckles my belt. I pull the gun from my jeans and I place it on the rim of the fountain before she finishes getting them off. I kick my jeans off and let her stroke my cock through my boxer briefs as I kiss her, bending over, her chin tipped up.

“Do you like tasting your pussy on my tongue?” I whisper to her. “Maybe,” she says, looking away. I grab her hair and make her look at me. “Say it. Tell me you like tasting your pussy on my tongue.” “I like it,” she says. “I like it a lot. Is that dirty?” “Yes,” I say. “It’s very fucking dirty, and that’s why you like it.” She pulls down my briefs, revealing my thick, hard cock. She takes it into her palm and slowly strokes its length, sitting forward on the fountain. I glance over and the gun is right there, a few feet away. I grab the back of her head and she opens her mouth, taking my cock between those thick, gorgeous lips. I groan, luxuriating in her throat. It feels so fucking good as she swallows my cock and starts to fuck me like that. I love that my dick stretches her lips wide open as she struggles to get me down her throat, but she’s working so fucking hard. It drives me crazy. I reach down and gently work her breasts as she moves forward, nose to my stomach, taking me all the way. I moan and she gags, pulling back. A string of saliva follows my cock to her mouth, and I pull back her hair, kissing it away. She moans as I press her back

down and she goes at my cock, sucking it hard and jerking my shaft with both hands. “Fuck, yes,” I groan. “God damn, Vivian. Every fucking inch of you sets my fucking balls on fire. I need to pump this cum down your throat.” She groans and takes me deep again, this time suppressing her gag. I can see the tears in her eyes, but she’s clearly enjoying herself as she pulls back and jerks me fast. “What do you want to do with me?” she asks. “Right here, out in the open?” I lean forward and bite her lower lip. “I want to stretch your cunt out until you scream.” “Henry,” she whispers, a devilish smile on her lips. “I think that would be very inappropriate. We’re coworkers, after all.” “Good,” I grunt at her. “You want to swallow your producer’s cock. I see the way you look at me.” “Maybe,” she says. She teases my tip with her tongue again. “Maybe I want to suck you dry, let you come down my pretty throat. Would you like that?” “Yes,” I groan. She starts to suck me, maintaining eye contact, slowly at first. “Fuck, I want to make

you my dirty slut right here and now.” She goes deep and I moan, pleasure flooding me, and I know I can’t stand another second of this. I pull her back and grab her hair, standing her up. She gasps as I turn her around and bend her pretty ass over the fountain. She puts both hands against the stone as I spread her legs roughly. I push aside her panties and rip them in the process. “Hey!” she protests. “I have a limited amount of underwear, you know.” I shrug and finish tearing them off. “I’ll buy you more.” “That’s not the point,” she says, pouting, and I slap her ass, hard. She gasps and I smirk at her. “Got anything else to say?” “Asshole,” she says. I slap her ass again, leaving a nice, red handprint. She moans, a smile on her lips, as I reach forward and start to rub her clit. I slide my fingers back and fuck her pussy with my fingers as I pull her hair back. “Tell me you want this,” I whisper. “Tell me you want me to fuck your wet little cunt.” “Fuck my cunt,” she says, and that drives me over

the edge. I grab her hips and slide myself deep inside her wet, warm little pussy. She throws her hair back and lets out a low moan as I fill her, ripping her apart. This is what I’ve been dreaming of all day long. I press myself deeper and start to fuck her slowly. I don’t want to rush it, don’t want to push her too fast. But she doesn’t have the same idea. Viv starts to work her hips back against me, sliding her pussy along my hard cock faster and faster. She jerks that ass along my cock and I fuck her in that same rhythm, slamming myself into her, stretching her wide open, I grab her hair and pull it back. I feel her breasts and tease her nipples as she leans back against me, turning her head to kiss my lips. She keeps moaning with my tongue in her mouth, my cock buried inside her tight little body. I love that I can dominate her, destroy her, rip her pussy to shreds. I press her back down and fuck her hard. I grab her hips and slam myself against her, not able to stop myself anymore. I want this pussy, I need it so badly I can barely think. I’m buzzing with need and pleasure as I thrust into her tight cunt.

I slide myself back out before I lose it completely. She turns instantly and starts kissing me, pressing me back. I drop down into the softer, shorter grass at the edge of the fountain and she climbs on top of me. I prop myself up on my elbows as she arches her back and slides her pussy back down along my shaft. She’s straddling my hips, my cock buried inside of her. I reach up and feel both her breasts, teasing and squeezing them, not caring if I’m a little rough. She kisses my lips, arms wrapped around my neck, and she starts to work her back and hips, riding my big dick. The moonlight drenches us as she rides me. I pump back against her, kissing her neck, pulling her hair, and slapping her ass. I want her to keep going, to fuck harder, go faster. We’re both covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she keeps moving back, clouds slowly drifting through the sky, the moon nearly full. The only sound in my ears is her breath and moans. I grab her hips and pump into her, wrecking her, slamming rough. She gasps and grinds her hips back, hands on my chest, and I can tell she’s close. Her eyes shut and her whole body tenses as she grinds back down and I thrust up inside her, and we get into that rhythm, that perfect place where we’re

completely in sync with each other. That’s when it happens. She comes harder, her whole body shuddering and twisting as the orgasm rips through her skin. Her moans go low and animalistic and I don’t hold back, fucking her rough and deep, feeling the glow building in my balls. “Come inside me,” she moans in my ear. “Come on, Henry. Fucking do it, come inside my pussy.” That pushes me over the edge. I come hard, an explosion deep in her cunt. I fill that pussy up with my hot cum and in that moment the only thing in the universe for me is her. It feels like it’s always been this way, and always will be. Slowly we finish, but she stays astride me. We kiss for a while, whispering to each other, essentially meaningless things as I slowly go soft inside her pussy. We hold each other, and I know we’re making up for lost time. I don’t want this moment to end. But at some point, I have to pick that gun up again, and we have to walk back to the hotel. Until then, I’ll live in this glow and love it for what it is.

20

VIVIAN

I

’m still ringing with him the next morning. I can taste him in my mouth, feel his hands on my breasts, his warm breath against my skin. I stretch, alone in bed, and go through everything that happened after we slept together. We were walking back to the hotel, holding hands and laughing, where Henry suddenly got tense. I could sense it in his shoulders, and when I looked up at him to ask what’s happening, he was already pulling the gun from his waistband. I watched as he pointed it to the side of us, toward the shadows by a group of trees. Jean stepped out, hands in the air, smile on his face. “Careful there, American cowboy.” His accent was

thicker than Claude’s. Henry sighed with relief and handed over the gun. “Glad it was just you,” he said, which just made Jean laugh. When we got back to the hotel, Henry kissed me goodnight in the elevator. “Can’t risk letting the guys know,” he said. “I don’t want to make things weird.” “Sure,” I replied. “I get it.” But I wish he had come over. I miss him in my bed, which is a stupid and silly thing to feel. I’m a grown woman, not some teenage girl still pining for the handsome boy next door. Henry’s all grown up, too. We’re adults, and we need to act that way. But god, I want to act like a kid when he’s near me. I feel so light and so free, especially after he confessed why he broke up with me all those years ago. I still think he was an asshole back then, and he could have handled it better, but still… it wasn’t because he just stopped loving me. It was exactly because he loved me. Well, he didn’t say that in so many words. But it takes a serious amount of sacrifice to do what he did, and part of me is glad. I’m happy I went to Harvard. I could see myself resenting him if I

followed him to some other school. I could see us growing apart. Now though, we get a second shot at this, whatever it may be. I don’t know if that’s what he wants, or if this is just a physical thing. I don’t want to question it, make him run away. Right now, I’m just enjoying it for what it is. I get up, shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed. I’m down in the lobby, cup of coffee in my hand, before seven in the morning. I spot Claude sitting in a chair and he nods at me. I smile at him, wondering if I should approach and say hello, but I decide against it. He looks away as soon as I sit, and I figure he’s on duty right now or whatever it is he’s doing. Truthfully, he and his brother both give me the creeps, though Jean is a little worse. The way he snuck up on us last night… I can’t help but wonder if maybe he saw what Henry and I were doing by that empty fountain. A chill runs down my spine, but I guess it doesn’t matter. They’re on our side, at least that much I’m sure about. If Henry trusts them then so do I. As I’m sitting there, trying to decide what I’m doing for the day, my phone starts ringing. I look down and it’s from a number I don’t recognize. On

a whim, I decide to answer, though it’s probably just some telemarketing robot or whatever calling to tell me that I just won a million dollars if I’ll only just pay them one hundred dollars first. “Hello?” I say, answering the phone. Instead of the usual pause before a robot starts speaking, a real human’s voice comes at me instantly. “Is this Vivian?” I don’t recognize her voice, not at first anyway. “Yes, it is, who’s this?” “It’s Pat, the old bat you interviewed.” The voice clicks into place for me. I remember giving Pat my personal number before we left, though I didn’t expect her to call. “Hi, Pat,” I say. “How are you doing?” “I’m okay, you know. Backaches, feet ache, knees ache, can’t get around like I used to. And I think I’m losing my eyes, but that’s another problem heaped on top.” “Sorry to hear about all that,” I say, not sure where this is going. “Sure, sure. I’m just an old woman rambling on. But there is a reason I called.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What’s that?” “You need people to talk to, am I right?” I hesitate a second. “You’re right,” I admit. “We’ve been having trouble with people disappearing on us.” Pat cackles, a throaty laugh that surprises me. “So I hear. You met John and Max, eh?” I’m even more surprised now. “How do you know them?” “Told you, been here a long time. This ain’t a large place, you know. I know those boys, two idiots, been friends with each other forever. Don’t let their good ol’ boy routine fool you though, they’re snakes.” My heart is beating fast. Max had called to say that his friend John was missing, but nothing’s happened since then. Henry tried to call him a few times, but he never answers. “Is he okay?” I ask her. “Oh, he’s fine,” she says. “John never ‘disappeared’ or whatever that idiot told you. They were just trying to scare you.” My jaw practically hits the floor. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not at all,” she says, cackling again. “Those two idiots. Amazed it worked on you guys.” “We thought… I mean, the Strips…” “Oh, don’t misunderstand,” she says more seriously. “The Strips did scare them. But they didn’t abduct anyone.” I take a breath. “So they were scared?” “Sure, they were. Following orders to pass that scare on along to you guys, too.” “They did that because of the Strips,” I say, understanding. “That’s right. Like I said, amazed it worked, but you don’t know this town.” “You’re right,” I conceded happily. “We don’t know this town at all. But Pat, we really want to. Do you think they’d talk to us now?” She cackles again. “Not on your life, they’re big babies.” She calms herself and adds, “But I know some folks that will.” My heart leaps up into my chest. “Really?” “Really,” she says. “But let me ask you something, Vivian. And don’t you lie to me, girl.”

“Ask me anything,” I say. If this crazy old woman can come through and get us some interviews, I’ll answer just about anything right now. “Do you actually give a shit about this town?” I pause, not sure what to say. “Not really,” I blurt out. There’s a stunned silence on the other end. “It’s not this town,” I say quickly. “I mean, I care about these people, but this problem… it’s so much bigger than just Sellersville. This place has been devastated by opioids, but I want this story to inform people, maybe save some other town. I don’t think we can save Sellersville.” I can hear her breathing over the sound of my pulse in my throat. I shouldn’t be so honest, but it’s the truth. I don’t care about Sellersville because I can’t let myself. I can’t save this town. But maybe I can help someplace else. “Okay,” Pat says finally. “I know you’re right. Hard to hear, but you’re right. It’s too late for us, the dead are already dead. If it might help save someone else’s family, I’ll help you.” “Thank you,” I say to her, sighing with relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warns. “I can get you the interviews. Cousins and the like. Some of them users, some of them family of users. Hell, some of them are in the Strips.” That hits me hard. “Seriously?” “Seriously,” she says. “Probably won’t talk, but I’ll try. You sit tight and I’ll get back to you.” “Thank you, Pat.” “Okay. Oh, and Vivian? Don’t fuck this up.” She hangs up the phone, and I can’t help but smile. That old woman may have just saved this story. We might be able to do some actual good now. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” asks Henry, standing to my left, his head cocked to the side. I stand up and throw my arms around him, not really thinking. He laughs and hugs me back. “Whoa there,” he says. “Careful. We can’t get caught, remember?” I pull back, smiling and a little embarrassed. “I know. I couldn’t help myself.” “What’s so good?” he asks me.

“I just got a call from that woman Pat we interviewed.” “What’d she say?” I grin and sip my coffee. “She’s getting us more interviews. More locals. And maybe someone in the Strips.” He stares at me for a second before a smile bursts across his face. “You’re fucking joking?” “Not at all. I just talked to her. She’s calling back when it’s set.” “Hell fucking yes,” he says, and pulls me against him in a hug. “What happened to being discreet?” “Fuck discreet, this is great news.” I laugh and hug him tight. Finally he releases me and looks me in the eye. “This might be dangerous, you know.” “Oh, stop with that, okay? We’re doing it.” He grins at me. “I know we are.” I grin right back at him, and my heart’s beating so fast I feel heady and light, like I just ran a mile. But it’s a good feeling, because something is finally

going our way. We’re going to make this story happen, one way or another. And we’ll do it together.

21

HENRY

I

don’t know why, but on the ride over to Pat’s, I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, since this seems like a sure thing, but I feel it anyway. I keep looking into my rearview mirror just to confirm that Claude and Jean are following in their little black sedan. Everyone else is in a good mood. Trace keeps telling racy jokes, and even Vivian is getting in on the fun. Miller laughs the loudest, though he never offers a joke of his own. “Why’s the boss so gloomy?” Bill asks as we’re pulling down Pat’s driveway. “I’m not,” I grunt. “He doesn’t like dirty jokes,” Vivian says. “Too

uptight, I think.” The boys all laugh and I can’t help but smile. She gives me a little look, a subtle thing, but I just shake my head a bit. I don’t know what it is. It’s the same feeling I used to get before we’d ride out into the desert in Afghanistan on those long drives between villages. Those were the most dangerous times, and if we were going to get ambushed or have an IED blow up beneath us, those were the days. It never happened and my bad feelings are all for nothing, but still, I can’t shake it. I park the van in front of Pat’s house, and this time there are other cars here. They’re all different, some of them nice and some of them beat up, but there are probably six in total. As we climb out, a whole horde of people come out the front door to meet us, all followed by Pat. She’s beaming the whole time, and I suddenly realize that she may have exaggerated a bit when she said she was totally alone in this world. I glance over at Viv and we start shaking hands as the guys unload the equipment. I meet Pat’s neighbor, her second cousin’s third kid, her grocer, her hairdresser, the guy that owns the hardware store, that guy’s son, and a bunch of other people that I can’t remember. They all come fast and hard,

wanting to get their stories out, like they’re all bursting at the seams to start talking. “Hold on, hold on, everyone,” I call out, trying to silence the crowd. “Please, listen for one second. We’re going to talk to you all, but I’m afraid we’ll run out of time if we don’t do this as orderly as possible. The guys are setting up in the back room, so we’ll take everyone there one at a time. Vivian here will do the interview while I prep the next person.” I look around at the faces staring back at me. “Now, who wants to go first?” Everyone raises their hand, and a smile breaks across my face. I glimpse Jean and Claude wandering around the property. Nobody asks who they are, and only Pat seems to notice their existence. She seems to understand, though, and doesn’t complain. From there, things go fast. The first interview is with a girl related to Pat somehow, I can’t remember, I think it’s her sister’s daughter’s daughter. Her name is Macy, and she’s still very much an addict. It’s obvious. I mean, if she weren’t talking about it, I’d be able to tell. Glassy eyes, stringy hair, sallow skin: a general sense of hopelessness, dirt, and decay. She’s probably been an addict for a while

now. “When did you first try fentanyl?” Vivian asks her. “In school,” she says, looking nervous. “A friend of mine. She said it was fun. I mean, it’s totally fun, it’s just—“ She stops and looks down. “People say I need help.” “Do you need help?” Viv asks softly. “Maybe,” she admits. “I don’t know. I don’t have a life, or a job, just the drugs, but they make me feel… something. I don’t know what it’d be like without it. I mean, I’m okay, right?” Vivian just shakes her head. “Tell me more about how you first started.” She draws them out, one after the other, masterfully saying whatever they need to hear. Sometimes she has to agree with them, sometimes she has to be forceful, and sometimes she has to stroke their ego. Like with the hairdresser, Barb. “I told her, I says, Meredith, you keep doin’ this trash, you gonna die. You know? I told her and now she’s dead, I knew all along.” Barb smiles proudly. “Clearly you were right,” Vivian says. “But what was it like, watching your best friend fall into addiction?”

“Like nothin’, at first, but then all of a sudden it was everythin’.” Barb frowns, trying to find the words. “It’s hard to explain.” “You’re doing a good job. Please, keep going.” As I prep the next person, getting their basic story and info, Viv works on camera. We fall into a flow together, that great feeling where everyone is working and on task and things are just coming together. Everything just flows from there, one thing into the next, and it feels like the work is almost easy, or at least it feels good. I can tell the crew is into it, too. They’re all paying close attention to what they’re doing, not making jokes, not fucking around like they sometimes do. Everyone is concentrating, getting through this group of people. This is more interviews than we normally do in a single day, especially without any prep, but we’re all afraid that if we try and break it up, we’ll lose people. This is the center of our story. One man talks about finding his brother, high out of his mind, out in their back yard trying to kill all their chickens. Another guy talked about getting clean and relapsing, again and again and again, until his best friend OD’d and now he’s clean for good. It was tragedy after tragedy, some of it mildly

funny, but all of it human. This is what we came here for. We came for the truth. We came to see how opioids and drugs can tear apart a community. And underneath is all, the Strips are always present. They’re not talking about them directly, but there are references. People talk about the dealers, the gangbangers, the violence and the money. It’s like everyone wants to accuse the Strips of destroying this place, but everyone is too afraid to say their name. After hours of interviews, we have only three more people left to talk with. Everyone’s exhausted, especially Pat, but she’s keeping her spirits up. “Think we can finish?” Bill asks me, frowning. “Light’s gonna be gone soon.” “We can do it. Let’s try, at least. We have some good stories coming up.” He nods, looks resolved. “I’ll make it work.” We get back to it. Vivian interviews a girl, maybe fifteen years old, about her mother’s addiction. Meanwhile, I’m prepping a guy that nearly died himself, OD’d just a couple months before. As we start getting ready to switch off, there’s a noise outside. It’s thumping bass, the sort of thing you hear from a car, getting closer. I can see the

mood in the room instantly shift, and Pat walks quickly over to me. “I think that’s Tommy,” she says. “Who?” I ask. “Tommy. He’s in the Strips. I asked him to come.” I stare at her. “Is that safe?” She smiles, a little sheepish. “I knew little Tommy as a boy. He was a nice boy.” “Tom’s a fucking prick now,” a guy named Larry says. “Beat the shit out of my neighbor just a week ago for no fucking reason.” “He’s not dangerous,” Pat says, shaking her head. “You’re kidding yourself. You invited him here?” her hairdresser hisses. “He’s gonna fuck these boys up.” She looks at me, eyes wild. “Y’all better leave.” “We’ll be fine,” I say, heading toward the door. I look back at Vivian. “Stay here.” I walk quickly out onto the porch and I watch as a truck pulls up, waving a Confederate flag. Idiots probably don’t know what that thing stands for, but that’s the least of my worried right now as three guys climb out of the truck and walk toward me.

The guy in the lead is maybe twenty-five years old at most. He’s got a short, clean beard and his head is shaved completely bald. He’s wearing camo pants and a tank top with a gun in its holster at his hip. The two other guys are dressed about the same, though one is pretty fat and the other can’t be older than twenty at best. “Who the fuck are you?” the guy in the front calls out. “I’m Henry, visiting with Pat. Are you Tommy?” “Tom,” he says, spitting on the ground. “And you shouldn’t fucking be here, bitch.” “Pat invited us,” I say. I stare Tom down, trying not to betray my fear to him. “Don’t matter. We heard about you fucking cunts, sniffing around our territory.” He stops at the base of the steps, just a few feet away from me. I can feel everyone in the house behind me creeping closer, listening and watching. “We’re just journalists,” I say. “Not getting in anyone’s way.” “You’re in our way. I thought we made it clear, but maybe we didn’t. Get the fuck out of our town before we kill you.”

“Who are you?” I ask him. “I mean, who do you work for?” He grins and his little cronies laugh too. “We work for ourselves,” he says. “They call us the Strips, but whatever, we accept it. We just fucking sell what we sell and make a living. And we own this town. So you better fuck off.” He puts his hand on his gun and my pulse picks up. “Best be moving your hand, son,” a quiet voice says from off to the left. We all look over and there’s Jean, calmly pointing a gun at Tom’s face Tom and his friends go to pull their weapons, but another voice catches them off guard. This time, it comes from the roof. I can’t see him, but I know it’s Claude. “Don’t move,” he says. “Or I start killing. Bet I can take you all before any one of you can get a shot off.” “What the fuck is this?” Tom spits. “I thought you were journalists.” “We are,” I say. “And I’d love to talk to you. But we brought protection, just in case. We don’t want trouble.”

“You got trouble now, bitch.” Tom moves his hand away from his gun. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” The three guys pile back into their truck and pull off. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid I might pass out. Jean comes up and nods to me. “You good?” “I’m good,” I say. “We should get going now, before they come back with more men.” “I’m sorry,” Pat says, coming up from behind me. “I thought… he used to be good…” “It’s okay,” I say to her. “You’ve helped out a lot already.” “I’m sorry,” she says again. I walk through the silent crowd of scared locals and stop in front of Viv. “We gotta go,” I say to her. “Okay,” she answers. I nod at the guys and we start to break down the equipment. We pack up the van in record time. As we finish up, Viv hangs back with Pat. She’s clearly trying to make Pat feel better, though I don’t know why. That old woman put us in a lot of danger, and now I’m afraid we’ll have to leave

town completely. “Viv,” I call out. She waves at me and hugs Pat. I sigh impatiently. I just want to keep Viv safe, that’s all. I feel bad for being short with Pat, but I’ll make it up to her. Viv comes over and we pile into the van. We pull out a second later with Claude and Jean bringing up the rear. There are no dirty jokes on the way back. I think everyone knows the truth: the stakes just got even higher.

22

VIVIAN

I

still feel like I’m reeling when I get back to my room. Nobody talks much as we unload the van, and once we’re done, most of us just split up. Henry is talking quietly with Claude and Jean while Bill mumbles something about heading to the bar. Trace and Miller both disappear, while I just wander back upstairs. I go into my bathroom and splash water on my face. I look into the mirror and I feel like I want to cry, but I don’t understand why. Nothing bad happened, though it was hanging on the knife’s edge that whole time. Isn’t this what I wanted? Action and adventure, a glimpse at reality underneath all the bullshit of daily

life. The Strips are real and their violence is real, and I just witnessed it up close. If Henry hadn’t hired the Quebecois brothers, things could have gotten really, really bad back there. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I pretend to be a real journalist, but honestly I’ve just written some stuff for the Times and for Buzzfeed. I haven’t traveled or really put myself in harm’s way for a story before. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t know if I can hold myself together through this. As I watch myself, I keep seeing the people back in that house as the Strips rolled up. I can still see the fear on their faces. It was etched into their posture, into their very bodies, burned deep inside of them. That’s what the Strips did to this place: people fear them more than anything else. It’s so obvious, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel so powerless, so absolutely weak and pathetic. The Strips can roll in here at any time and kill us if they want, and I bet they’d get away with it. The thought makes fear spike through me. I always saw myself as brave, but being in that room with all those terrified people, I realize now that I wouldn’t have done a damn thing if the Strips attacked Henry. I would have screamed, maybe I would

have tried to hide, and that… that makes me hate myself. I want to be brave. I want to be better than this. But I don’t know if I have it in me. Someone knocking at my door pulls me from my self-destructive thoughts. I take a sharp breath and walk over to the door. For a stupid second, I think it’s the Strips, back to finish the job. But of course it’s just Henry, looking concerned. “Hey,” he says to me as I pull the door open. “Can we talk?” I nod and let him inside. “I know what you’re going to say.” “Do you?” he asks me. He leans up against the little desk that’s shoved up against the far wall as I sit down on the end of the bed. I put my elbows on my knees and leans forward. “You want us to stop,” I say to him. “Leave here.” He doesn’t answer. I look up at him and he just shrugs a little. “I guess I’m predictable.” “Honestly, I was thinking the same thing.” He raises an eyebrow as I meet his gaze, not sure what else to say. I feel like a coward. I feel pathetic. I feel like I’m running away.

“Claude and Jean don’t think the Strips will bother us for a little while,” he says. “They’re more bark than bite, at least according to them.” “What do you think?” He shrugs a little. “I honestly don’t know. I’m in uncharted waters here too.” I sigh and look up at the ceiling. “Did you talk to anyone else?” “Bill, briefly. He was on the way out to the bar.” “Is that a good idea?” “No,” he says, grinning. “But that’s Bill. And if it matters, he said that he’s on board no matter what we choose.” I watch him, his handsome face, and I realize I was willing to run away back there. He walked out, faced the Strips head on, wasn’t afraid. He’s one of the bravest, most incredible men I’ve ever met. And I want to be more like him. I want to be better. I stand up and he cocks his head at me. I walk up to him without thinking and I press my body against his. “I was afraid,” I admit to him. “I was frozen. I couldn’t do anything.”

“It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s not okay,” I say back to him, burying my face in his chest as he hugs me close. “I should have… should have done something.” “No, you should have gotten the fuck out of there.” He takes my shoulders and looks at me seriously. “There was nothing you could have done, understand? There’s no reason to put yourself in danger.” “But you did,” I say. “I’m different.” “How?” “I’m stupid.” He grins at me. “Plus, I knew Claude and Jean were there. Come on, you think I was gonna fight those guys myself?” I smile a little bit. “Were you scared?” “Fuck yes,” he admits, laughing. “Of course. But that’s not what being brave is.” “What is it then?” “It’s doing what you have to do, despite wanting to do something different.” I look into his deep eyes and I know what I want. I

kiss him then, pressing my mouth hard against his, letting his tongue touch mine as I press myself harder against him. He pulls me tight against his chest and kisses me back, full and deep, and I can’t stop myself. I’m so overwhelmed by everything, but I know what I want. I realize I can be brave and do the right thing, despite my fear. I turn him and press him back, shoving him down onto the bed. I feel like I’m in a frenzy, completely mindless, but starving for him at the same time. I can feel what I want and need clicking into place, finally becoming one and the same. I kiss him rough as his hands move along my body, pressing my shirt up. He pulls it off and I shrug it aside as he unhooks my bra, my hair spilling down over my breasts. He sits up as I straddle him, his hands supporting my ass, his lips kissing my neck. My nipples are so hard as his teeth finds them, licking and teasing me. I drop back and down onto my knees in front of him. I quickly pull his jeans off, making fast work of them. I get his briefs off and take his cock in my hard, stroking him as I stand and look in his eyes. He grabs my hair and pulls me against him, kissing me hard, propped up on one elbow. I kiss him back,

cock still in my hand. He’s so hard as I stroke him faster and faster, sliding along his skin slick with pre-cum. I move back and take his cock between my lips. As I suck his tip, I manage to unbutton my pants and pull them down over my hips. I look up at him and he groans, his dick still in my mouth. “God damn, girl,” he grunts. “You’re driving me insane.” I pull back, letting his cock slide from my mouth with a pop. “Good,” I say, and finish taking off my panties. I stand in front of him, dripping wet and completely naked. He reaches for me, but I push him away. I shove him back, climbing on top of him, my back arched and pussy wet. I pin his hands down on either side of him and he smirks as I work my back against his cock, letting him slide against my slick spot. I reach back and slowly guide him inside of me, and he lets me slide down his length, taking him deep inside my pussy. I gasp as he fills me. I kiss him hard, still holding his hands down, and I begin to ride him. This is what I need. I want some control, a little power, and I know he’ll let me have it. I know

Henry can take me any time he wants, can throw me down and pin me to the bed and fuck me raw, but he’s letting me do what I want right now. I work my hips back and suddenly he pushes his hands up, overwhelming me with his strength. He sits up and takes my wrists, pinning them behind my back, his lips against my ear. “You want to be on top, huh?” he asks. “You want to ride this cock?” “Yes,” I moan, pleasure rocking through me. “Then fucking ride it.” I work back, slamming down along his cock as he thrusts into me. He’s so big, he rips me apart, fills me to the brim. I rock back, sliding along him, needing him to fill me, needing him to fuck me. He releases my wrist and I wrap my arms around his neck as he slaps my ass. I gasp as he slams himself into me. I pull his hair and work my hips back, pressing my ass harder and harder against him, riding his dick in a frenzy. Sweat drips down my skin but I don’t care, all I need is his thick cock. He pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside. I put hands on his chest and push him back onto elbows. He smirks as I work my ass along his dick, clapping me back and forth against him.

my his big He

lets me ride him as pleasure surges through me. He reaches up and grabs my hair with one hand and pulls it back. I gasp and dig my nails into his chest, making him grunt. He slaps my ass and pulls me down against him. His hand still in my hair, he slaps my ass again and again, fucking me hard, making it hurt. I moan, deep and low. He grunts and keeps fucking me, unrelenting and intense. I can feel my orgasm beginning to build and I don’t want to stop, don’t ever want to stop. I slam back, bucking against him, working harder and harder. The orgasm surges through me, ripping me to pieces. I gasp as he pulls my hair back right at its peak, making it feel so incredibly intense, his cock rocking into me. Just as my orgasm finishes, he pulls himself out and pushes me aside. He pins me down, ass in the air, and stands at the edge of the bed. He grabs my wrists and slams himself into me. I can tell he’s close, so I back my ass up against him, sliding along his cock. He pulls himself out a second later, stroking his cock as he comes all over my ass and back in thick, heavy spurts. I realize I’m moaning and can’t help it as he comes. I love getting covered by him, it drives me

absolutely insane. When he’s finishes, he collapses onto his knees for a second, breathing deeply while I stare over my shoulder at him, feeling completely spent. He stand after a second and grabs a towel from the bathroom. He cleans me up tenderly, kissing my lips, making me laugh. I roll over onto my side when he’s through and look at him. “We’re seeing this through,” I say. “I know,” he answers, frowning. “I figured you’d say that.” “I was afraid. But I don’t want to be a coward.” He nods at me. “You’re not. Not at all.” “So let’s make this happen.” I watch as he walks over to me, kneels down, and kisses my lips. He runs his fingers through my hair gently, nuzzling against my neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, okay,” he says finally. “We’ll finish this. And I know how.” I raise an eyebrow. “You have an idea?” “Just one last interview. And then we’ll get the hell out of this town. You with me?” I nod. “I’m with you.”

He grins and kisses me again. “Good.” Of course I’m with him, I realize. I love being with him. All my thoughts of the past are suddenly gone as it occurs to me that I’m entirely invested in the present. What happened to us back then is receding into memory while what’s happening now is taking over everything. This is more important than anything else, whatever this is that we’re building between us. Sweating and spent, I know I have to follow this through. Not just the story, but Henry himself. I have to see where it takes me.

23

HENRY

T

he next day is uneventful. We spend most of the afternoon in my room, working on editing the footage we shot during our marathon interview. The crew lounges around, clearly bored out of their minds, but this is just the way it goes. Around noon, there’s a knock at the door. I get up, stretching a little. “I bet that’s Trace wondering if they can order a pizza or something,” I say to Viv. She smiles but doesn’t look up from the screen, totally engrossed on what she’s doing. I head over and pull open the door. Instead of Trace, it’s Claude. “Henry,” he says. “May we speak?”

I nod and step out into the hall, letting the door click behind me. “What’s up?” “There have been some men hanging around the hotel lately. We believe they are a part of the gang, the Strips as you call them.” Claude looks at me, his face expressionless and blank. “Do you want us to chase them off?” I shake my head. “Let them lurk,” I say. “If they’re not harming anything.” “Still, sometimes it is best to show strength.” I shake my head. “We’re almost through here. I don’t want to push any buttons and escalate this further.” He nods, understanding. “So our job is nearly finished?” “I think so,” I say. “We’re not positive on the details yet. But we’re hoping just another day or two.” “Good,” he says. “After what happened, you all should be leaving town. I don’t know how long we can keep you safe.” “You’ve done a lot already.” Claude nods. “Happy to.” He turns and strides back down the hall without another word.

I sigh and lean up against the hall for a second. How the hell did it get to this? French Canadian freedom fighters protecting us, violent gang members trying to kill us. I thought this was just some easy puff piece, but obviously I was wrong. And in that room is the woman I’m falling for like a fucking idiot. Maybe that’s not exactly right. I don’t think I’m falling for her. I think I fell for her a long time ago, but I’m just remembering what it’s like to be with her. I’m already head over heels, I’m just waking up all those old feelings and letting them take over. I know it’s dangerous to let myself get attached like this, especially during a dangerous time. I should wait until we’re done with this story and heading home, but clearly I can’t control myself around Vivian. I’m an idiot for her, plain and simple. I’m willing to do stupid things just to make her happy. Like finishing this story. We should hightail it the fuck out of here and write the rest of this from the safety of our office. There’s no reason to go fishing for that perfect ending sequence, but she’s adamant. She doesn’t want to run away, because she thinks this is some kind of test for her. I know how she’s feeling. I felt like that myself.

What people don’t tell you is they’re always afraid, even when they look brave. Out in the desert of Afghanistan, I was fucking terrified every day, but I kept on moving one foot in front of the other. That story Bill likes to tell is just one tiny piece of a large and complex story. Maybe I was crazy that night, but there were plenty of other nights that I kept my fucking head down and didn’t invite disaster. That’s how you survive, and I wish I could make her understand that. I know she needs to learn it on her own. You survive and flourish in this business by not taking risks the vast majority of the time. Only once in a while do you take that single calculated risk, and only when the risk isn’t that high. This is one of these borderline cases. I can’t tell if the risk is worth the reward, but Vivian seems completely convinced that we need this one last piece. I’m honestly not sure, and so I’m letting her make the decision. I could be stupid… clouded over by my own desire… but it’s too late for that. I head back into the room. “Everything okay?” Viv asks as I head over and sit back down in my chair next to her. “Fine,” I say. “Claude was just checking in.”

“Good,” she says. She leans her head up against my shoulder. “God, I’m exhausted.” I grunt and kiss her. “Kept you up too late?” “Yes,” she says seriously. “Please, Henry, you have to go easy on me.” I laugh and pull her against me. I kiss her deep and shake my head. “No, thanks,” I say. “I’d rather make it as hard as possible.” She groans and laughs as I kiss her again. We keep doing this, vacillating between working intensely and feeling each other intensely. We spend an hour in bed, fucking until we’re spent, and then we go back to work for a few hours until we start fucking all over again. That’s how the day passes, in a blur of work and sex, everything just mixing in with everything else. It’s fast and intense and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life. Morning turns into evening in the blink of an eye, and we’re lying there in bed, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on our bodies. I get up and take a quick shower. I find her hunched over the laptop again, scrolling through some footage. “Hey, have you seen the guys today?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what time it is, to be honest.” I laugh and kiss her cheek before finding my phone. “Wow,” I say. “It’s after eleven.” She perks up.” Are you kidding?” “Not at all.” “Holy crap. I thought it was dinner time.” “I think we skipped that.” She frowns a little. “That explains why I’m hungry.” “Want me to find something?” “That’d be great,” she says. “I just need to finish this…” She trails off and turns back to the screen, putting her headphones back on. I put some clothes on and leave the room, wallet and keys shoved hurriedly into my back pocket. First, I check on Miller. He’s in his room, reading from an old paperback. “All’s quiet,” he says. “Haven’t seen the other two.” “Good.” I hesitate. “Got any food in there by any chance?”

He shakes his apologetically.

head

and

shrugs

a

little

“No problem,” I say. “Hey, get your stuff packed. I think we’re going to head out in the next day or two.” He grins and gives me a thumbs up. I nod at him and turn away, heading down the hall toward Bill’s room. Once there, I knock a few times, but there’s no answer. Figuring he’s just down in the lobby, I head toward Trace’s. There’s thumping music coming from behind his room as I stop in the hall and knock. I have to knock a few more times, pounding over the door, before he finally answers. “Hey, boss,” Trace says. “What are you doing in there?” I ask him. “Nothin’,” he says. “Just hanging out. What’s up?” “Just checking on you guys. Got anything to eat, by the way?” He shrugs. “Some snacks, that’s it.” “All right, never mind.” I glance back down the hall. “Hey, do you know where Bill’s at?” Trace hesitates. “Uh, why would I?” he asks me.

That gets my attention. I turn back toward him and Trace is looking at the floor. “What’s up, Trace?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know where Bill is, sorry.” “Trace,” I say, suddenly nervous. “Did he go somewhere?” He sighs. “I promised not to tell.” “Trace,” I repeat. “You saw what happened. We can’t be going out, things are too dangerous.” “He was so bored,” Trace says. “Just wanted a few drinks to loosen up.” “Where is he?” I ask, suddenly worried. “Same place we’ve been going,” he says. “The Floorstander.” “Shit, thanks, Trace.” I turn away and hurry toward the elevators. That’s the last place Bill should have gone. All thoughts of getting Viv something to eat are totally gone as I hurry down into the lobby. This is so stupid and irresponsible. It’s totally unlike Bill. He’s been through enough shit to know that he shouldn’t push his luck, much less go back to a bar where we know it’s dangerous for us. Maybe he

thinks his winning personality will protect him but I know better than that. The Strips are just waiting for us to make a mistake, and this is probably their chance. I head out into the parking lot, not thinking about it. Fortunately, Bill took a cab or an Uber or something, because the van’s still there. I hop inside and pull out as fast as I can, driving toward the Floorstander with fear lodged deep in my gut. The worst case scenario keeps popping into my mind. I keep seeing Bill face-down in a ditch, half drunk and bleeding from a bullet hole to his gut. The Strips just leave him there to slowly bleed to death, wracked with agony, unable to scream for help.

24

HENRY

I

take a sharp breath as I pull into the parking lot. The place isn’t packed, which could be a good sign. I hop out and slam the door shut behind me, hurrying toward the rundown front door. I press myself inside, into the sticky beer-soaked floors and the dim lighting. Regulars are posted up at the bar like usual, lit up in dim yellow, ignoring their own reflections in the bar. The bartender doesn’t even glance my way, but I feel like all eyes are on me, and everyone knows who I am. Bill’s sitting at a table alone in the back, nursing a beer and looking at his phone. I stalk across the room, relieved he’s okay, fear replaced with anger. “What the hell are you doing?”

He looks up at me. “Hey there,” he says. “Wanna drink?” I shake my head. “We’re not supposed to leave the fucking hotel.” He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine.” “They know we come here,” I say to him. “Or did you forget that?” “They don’t know me,” Bill says. “They’re looking for you, remember?” I narrow my eyes at him. “You were seen with us. What the hell are you trying to do? Need a drink so bad you can’t stay inside?” That seems to get through to him. I see a little anger course through him. “I’m not a fucking drunk,” he says. “Aren’t you?” I step closer to him. “Come back with me. We’ll talk about this at the hotel.” “Fuck off, Henry,” he says. “You’re just some punk kid. Why the fuck should I listen to you?” I sit down across from him and lean across the table. Bill suddenly looks a lot older than he used to. All the wisdom and charm is gone, replaced by the brutal truth: Bill is an aging cameraman past his

prime with no wife, no kids, and no life. He drinks to fill the empty void he feels inside of himself, and even that’s not working anymore. “I don’t give a fuck what you think anymore, Bill,” I say to him. “But you’re putting the rest of us in danger. Come back with me, right now, and maybe you’re not the piece of shit I think you might be.” He stares back at me, knocks his beer back, and slams it down on the table. “Not because you’re telling me to,” he says to me, sliding out of the booth. “But because I’m out of cash and this place doesn’t take credit cards.” I shake my head and mutter under my breath as he storms out the front door. He’s drunker than I realized, and I can’t help but wonder how long he’s been here. I partially blame myself. I shouldn’t have spent all day in that room with Viv. I totally forgot about the guys, left them to fend for themselves. I mean, they’re fucking grownups, but they’re still my responsibility. I should have checked in with them sooner. I find Bill in the parking lot, looking around unsteadily for the van. “Over here,” I grunt at him, walking over to it. I unlock the door as he hops in through the back, slamming the door shut behind

him. I sigh and glance up at the moon. I don’t know what I did for Bill to suddenly turn on me like this, but maybe it was just a matter of time. I’ve been noticing his drinking more and more lately, and that’s always a bad sign. Part of me thought Bill could just handle it better than guys I’ve known in the past, but that’s the trick of it. You think the people you know will be okay, but people are more alike than they are different most of the time. If a guy’s drinking too much, he’s going down a bad road, plain and simple. Before I can pull open the door, I hear someone call out. Stupidly, I turn around, and spot three guys walking toward me. “Can I help you?” I ask the guy in the lead. As he gets closer, I realize with a deep pang that I recognize these guys. It’s the three Strips guys from yesterday. “Yeah, you can help me, all right,” Tom says, striding toward me. I turn and face him, which is even dumber. I should get in the van, but there’s not enough time for that. Tom’s on me in a second. He swings at my face and I manage to protect myself. The two other guys

slam me up against the side of the truck, punching me in the gut, slamming a fist into my jaw. Lights crack into my vision. I shove back and elbow one of them in the teeth. I feel them crunch as I violently heave forward, trying to get some space. I clock Tom in the jaw and they fall back, giving me space. For a second, I think I can make a break for it. But someone slams their fist into the side of my head, sending me stumbling, and they’re back on me in a second. I get thrown to the ground and I know I’m fucked. I need to survive this, I need to get through, as kicks and punches rain down on me. I protect my head as much as I can, but they’re relentless, and I’m afraid I’ll never see Viv again. There’s a roar and the kicks stop coming. I look up in time to see Bill charging at them like a bull, swinging a huge wrench we keep in the truck to help put together some of the more complicated camera dollies. The Strips manage to turn just in time for Bill to clock the closest guy in the gut, sending him sprawling. “Motherfuckers!” Bill growls, swinging the wrench some more. Tom scatters back. He grabs his friend on the ground and starts to drag him away, Tom

threatening them with the wrench the whole time. A crowd gathers by the entrance to the bar, and I manage to sit up, my back against the van, breathing heavy. I can taste the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth. I figure they’re only leaving because of the crowd. They probably can’t kill people in public, not yet at least. “You okay?” Bill asks, kneeling down next to me. I spit a glob of clotted red onto the pavement. “I’m fine,” I grunt. “Shit. You don’t look fine.” “I’m okay. Help me up.” I lean against him as I climb to my feet. I press against my ribs and while everything is bruised and aching, I don’t think they broke anything. I’m not in horrible pain, at least. “We should go to a hospital,” he says. I shake my head. “No, no hospital. Let’s go back.” He stares at me for a second and nods. I figure he thinks this is his fault, so he’ll probably do whatever I ask right now. He helps me toward the passenger side but I shrug him off. “You’re too drunk to drive,” I snap at him.

“Don’t feel drunk,” he grumbles. I climb into the driver’s side myself as he quietly gets in his side. I start the van and pull out, my whole fucking body aching. I’m angry but I know I’d probably be dead or worse if Bill hadn’t chased them off. Then again, I shouldn’t even be out in this position, and it’s his fucking fault that I am. I’m pissed and all I want to do is to throw him the fuck out of the van, but that’s not what keeps coming to mind. I just keep seeing Vivian’s face. It’s all I was thinking about as those guys kept kicking me. I was afraid I wouldn’t see her again, or if I did, that I’d be too broken to love. I didn’t care about my injuries or what was happening to me, I just wanted to be able to hold Vivian one last time. I made it through, though. I’m not fucking dead, and I’m not broken. And now I’m pissed. We get back to the hotel and I head back inside. I can tell I look bad based on how people are looking at me. When we get to our floor, I turn to Bill and stare at him. “Next time, shoot me in the fucking head first and save us some trouble,” I say to him.

“Henry—“ “Save it,” I snap. “Go sober up. If I see you drinking one more time on a job, I’ll make sure you’re fucking fired and blacklisted as fast as possible. You understand?” “Yeah,” he grunts. He turns and leaves without another word. I watch him go before leaning up against the wall. I’m in some pain and I don’t want to face Vivian, not yet. I know she’s going to be upset. As I’m leaning there, my phone rings. I reluctantly pull it out of my pocket and answer it. “Yeah?” I say. “Henry, dear, are you okay?” I blink, a little surprised. It’s Pat, that old codger. “I’m fine. How did you know?” “Tom showed up with his idiot friends. I think the one is missing some teeth and the other has a bad concussion. He told me what happened, I’m so sorry.” “He’s there right now?” I growl at her. “No, they left, not before stealing some of my cash. And after I looked after his hurt idiot friends.”

“They nearly killed me,” I tell her. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I got something for you.” She pauses a second. “I think you’ll like it.” “What is it?” I ask, exhausted suddenly. “Tom’s going to do an interview with you.” I stand there, dumbfounded. “You’re kidding me, right?” “I know, it sounds like a trap, but listen. His friend OD’d last night. This little fight… he was taking it out on you, I think.” “Jesus fuck,” I say. “What’s to stop him from taking it out on me again?” “Bring those guards of yours, he’s afraid of them. Hell, he’ll even come to you guys, to the hotel. Nice and public.” I pause a second. That sounds pretty good, actually. And it’s the exact final shot we need for this whole thing. “Tomorrow morning at ten,” I tell her. “Make sure he’s here. Otherwise, we’re gone. Okay?” “Okay,” she says. “He’ll be there.” “Good.” I hang up the phone, not sure what the

fuck to make of that. Finally, exhausted and aching, I push off the wall and head to Viv’s room. Might as well get it over with. I knock on her door and she answers right away. She gasps and I must look worse than I thought. “Henry,” she says, pulling me into her bathroom. “What the fuck happened?” “Bill,” I grunt at her. “Went to the Floorstander. When I picked him up, the fucking Strips were there.” “Jesus,” she says, pulling my shirt off. “You’re going to be bruised to hell.” “Assholes,” I say, wincing as she prods me. I sit down on the toilet as she gives me a tissue to clean my bloody nose with. “But there’s good news.” “What’s that?” she asks. “Aside from you getting beaten to a pulp, that is.” “Had worse,” I say to her. “But that gang member, the one related to Pat. He says he’ll sit down with us.” She stares at me. I decide not to tell her that Tom was the one who beat my ass.

“You’re joking?” she asks. “After this? We’re getting the hell out of here first thing in the morning, Henry.” “No, listen. He’s coming here. We’ll do the interview in the lobby, public place, with Claude and Jean on hand.” “And where were they when you get your ass kicked?” she asks. “Watching this place,” I say. “I didn’t tell them I was leaving.” “Henry,” she says. “It’s done. But we can get this last shot and then leave.” She watches me, uncertain and afraid. I stand up, carefully keeping the pain from my expression. “This is a good idea,” I say to her. “It’s public. We can do this.” She sighs. “I don’t know.” “Let’s finish it.” I touch her face gently. “Together. Okay?” She takes my hand and kisses me softly. “Okay,” she says.

“Now I’m going to sit in bed for a while and try not to hurt.” She laughs. “I’ll get you some ice.” “Thanks.” I glance in the mirror. Not too horrible, actually. She gives me a look as I settle into bed before leaving the room. I’m afraid and angry, but I know the best thing I can do is get this interview and make sure this story is good. We’ll break the Strips through political pressure and public outrage. Nothing like a bright spotlight on a town to really shake the cockroaches out. We’ll do this the right way, and I’ll get my revenge.

25

VIVIAN

I

have to admit, I’m nervous as hell the next morning.

I keep seeing Henry’s beat-up face every time I close my eyes. His eye is black and blue and his nose is slightly off-center. I think it’s broken, but he refuses to go to the hospital. I just want to make sure that he’s okay, but he’s completely focused on this job. I don’t know what this guy Tom is going to do. I can’t picture him coming into the hotel and shooting the place up, because nobody can get away with that sort of thing. But maybe it’s not beyond him and the Strips. At least Claude and Jean will be here this time. They’re already down, plotting how they’re going to make this safe. When

Henry told Claude what we’re doing, Claude said something in French and shook his head, walking away without another word. “You’re going to be front and center,” Henry says to me as I look into the mirror. “Don’t back down. Don’t be afraid. We’ll be there.” I look over my shoulder at him and take a deep breath. He smiles at me, though I know he’s still in pain from last night. “I’m not really worried about that,” I admit to him. “I’m more worried about you.” He smiles and comes up behind me. “You think this is going to stop me?” “No,” I say. “No,” he repeats. “So I got beat up, big deal. I’m alive and we’re moving forward.” “Yeah.” I turn around and kiss him tenderly, aware of the bruises. “We’ll be fine.” “Of course. We have the best guards money can buy. And besides, Bill might come running out with a wrench again.” I smile at that. I can’t imagine him getting violent. “How do you think he’s feeling?”

“Awful,” Henry says. “And he fucking better. He messed up.” “I know, but—“ “No, he put us all in danger. I won’t work with him ever again.” I stare at him, surprised. “I thought you liked him.” “I do. Which is why I’m not going to get him fired and kicked out of this industry entirely.” He shakes his head. “He put us all at risk. I can’t be around a guy like that anymore.” “Okay,” I say to him. I can’t picture what this would be like without Bill, but the drinking is bad, and he did mess up. Henry’s been doing this longer than I have, and I trust his judgment. “Come on,” Henry says. “You’re ready. Let’s get down there.” I glance at the clock. It’s nine in the morning and the guys are already setting up in the lobby. We got special permission to film, as long as we give the hotel chain a shout-out. “Think they’ll show?” I ask him. “Yeah, I do,” he says. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

We head out into the hallway, a bag slung over Henry’s shoulder with his laptop and other gear inside it. My nerves are growing with every step, but I know this last scene is important. We get into the elevator and Henry leans up against me. “You sure about this?” he asks me. “We can turn back now. It’s not too late.” I give him a look. “You know I can’t.” “Yeah.” He grins at me. “I know. It’s what I love about you.” My eyes go wide, surprised as hell, but I don’t get a chance to say anything. The door opens and standing on either side are Claude and Jean. They look a little grim, but that’s not unusual. “Everything okay?” Claude’s frown deepens. “They’re here already.” We stop and I crane my neck down the hall. I can’t see anyone. “They’re early?” Henry asks. “That’s right. Just the old woman and that boy.” Henry takes a deep breath. “Okay then. Let’s go do this.” He smiles at me, squeezes my hand, and then we head into the lobby.

My heart’s beating fast but I keep myself under control. The crew’s finished setting things up already. Sitting in one of the two chairs is Tom, looking around nervously, scowling the whole time. As soon as we step into the room, his expression darkens. Pat comes walking up to us immediately. “I’m so glad you’re letting him do this,” she says to Henry, and then stops. “Jesus. You look awful.” “Yeah, well.” He glances over at Tom. “You can blame him.” She shakes her head. “He’s not really an awful person. He just… got sucked in.” “Let him tell it,” Henry says. We walk past Pat and toward Tom. He watches as we approach. Claude and Jean are nearby, though not too close. The whole place is tense as hell, even the staff behind the front desk seem worried. Henry stops a few feet in front of Tom. “You look like shit,” Tom says. Henry grins at him. “That’s what happens when you get jumped.” He nods. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m not. I’m glad you’re here.” He looks a little surprised. “Ah, you are?” “Very happy,” I say, stepping forward. “I’m Vivian. I’ll be doing the interview.” “Hi,” he says to me as we shake hands. I can tell he feels awkward, but Henry blends back behind the scenes as I sit down and get myself ready. Miller clips a mic onto my shirt and I thank him. Once he’s done, the lights start up and I smile at Tom. “Don’t feel nervous,” I say to him. “I’m just going to ask you about yourself.” “Yeah,” he says. “Sure, whatever. I’m only here because… well, you know.” “We’ll talk all about it in a moment.” I look over at Henry. “Ready?” “Ready,” he says. “Roll cameras. Let’s do this.” I turn back to Tom, heart in my chest. He’s wearing a wife-beater, tattoos peeking out across his chest. He’s skinny and he looks younger than the last time I saw him. I think he’s maybe seventeen at most. “Tom, first, thanks for doing this. I know it’s not easy.”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” “Can you tell me a little bit about why you agreed to meet with us?” He glances toward Pat and then looks back at me. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to talk. I’m afraid he’s going to clam up and waste all our time, make Henry’s beating all for nothing. But he doesn’t. Instead, he launches into the story of how he first got involved with the Strips. He was thirteen and his father was an addict. His mom needed money for groceries, because she just got laid off from her job as a waitress. Some kids on his block said he could make cash selling, and that’s how it all started for him. “The kid’s name was Seamus,” he says. “Scottish, but he didn’t look Scottish. We were good friends, up until he died.” “When did he die?” I ask him. “Last night.” “How did it happen?” “Drugs,” he says. “Like everyone else in this town.” “Is that why you attacked Henry?” I ask him softly.

“Yeah,” he admits, looking away. “We were angry about what happened and then Seamus died and we just… we went looking for trouble. Found it pretty easy.” I ask him more about his life as a gangster. I ask him about how he gets away with selling, how many guys are in the gang, who runs the whole thing. I ask him detailed, specific questions, the sort of stuff most people never answer. But Tom talks. He keeps talking and talking. He tells me about the shipments from Mexico, or at least he thinks they’re from Mexico. He tells me about the cheap pills they’re getting, knockoff stuff made in quasi-legal labs down south. “It’s part of why people die from the shit,” he says. “They think they’re getting one thing, but it’s something else. Bigger dose, more concentrated, that sort of shit.” I can hardly believe it. This is the sort of information people would kill to have. It’s always been something of a mystery, where all this fentanyl is coming from. People assume it’s from crooked doctors writing bad prescriptions for addicts, but clearly that can’t be the only source. It makes sense that it’s been manufactured somewhere and brought up into the United States.

That also partially explains why so many people are dying. “It’s the heroin too,” Tom says. “Opioids and pharmaceuticals are expensive as shit. Eventually it’s just cheaper to get heroin. Same high, same deal, just a lot cheaper.” “So why do fentanyl at all then, if it’s so expensive?” He shrugs a bit. “Heroin is harder to dose and take. People don’t like needles. They’d rather cut some strips off a fentanyl patch and put it under their tongue. It’s easier. Makes them feel like less of a junky.” He talks about the hierarchy of the Strips and where he fits into it all. He’s at the bottom of the bottom, just a regular street pusher. The guys that roll with him are friends, but they don’t know he’s doing this. “Nobody knows,” he says to me. “Are you in danger, talking to us?” He laughs at that. “Fuck, yes,” he says. “I’m in a ton of danger. I’m gonna leave town as soon as we’re through.” I glance at Henry but he just nods. “Where will you

go?” “Can’t say,” he answers. “Somewhere far from this hellhole. Pat’s coming with me.” I look over at her and she smiles, shrugs. “That’s good,” I say to him. “You’re getting out.” “Look, I don’t want to be in this. I had no other choice. I was afraid. I’m still afraid. I don’t want to live this way forever.” I can see it, the vulnerable kid hiding behind the hard ganger façade. I can almost forgive him, if he hadn’t hurt Henry so badly. Still, I need him, and I’m not about to go after him and ruin this interview. So I push him harder, get him talking some more. He gives us names, locations, sums of money. The Strips are pulling in a lot of cash, but apparently it’s mostly wasted on stuff like expensive cars and jewelry. The top guys take home the most and the rest is spread out through everyone else. “Doesn’t sound very fair,” I say to him. “Nothing’s fucking fair, lady,” he responds. “Never fucking is.” We finish the interview not long later. I realize we’ve been talking for a couple of hours. Time flew

past, once I got over my initial nervousness. I can’t believe how much he told us and in how much detail, and I’m absolutely positive that this was the right thing to do. When we’re done, I stand up and the guys immediately start breaking everything down. “When will you leave?” I ask Pat as she walks over. “Right now,” she says. “I got an RV packed with stuff. Relatives will sell the house. We’re getting out.” “Thanks for all your help,” I say to her. “Sincerely. “I’m sorry about him,” Pat says, glancing at Henry. “Never meant for anyone to get hurt.” “It’s okay. I think he’ll survive.” She nods and turns to Tom. “You ready?” “Ready.” He looks at me. “Sorry too. About him.” “Thanks for talking. You did something brave.” “Will… you think it’ll make a difference?” “Yes,” I say sincerely. “I think it really will.” He nods, looking pleased, and the two of them leave the lobby. I watch as they go, and I can’t help

but wonder if they’ll be okay. Henry comes up beside me. “You did good,” he says softly. “Got the kid talking.” “Didn’t take much. I think he planned on burning bridges.” “We got a lot, though. A lot of really good stuff.” “Was it worth it?” I ask him, looking up into his eyes, cringing at the sight of his bruises. “Sure was.” He grins at me. We spend the next half hour breaking everything down and packing the van. We thank the hotel manager for letting us use his lobby. He tells us to stop by whenever we want, though I have no plans to ever come back to Sellersville again. “This is it,” Henry says to Claude and Jean. “Are you guys all set up?” Claude nods. “We’re all paid, don’t worry.” “Good.” Henry shakes their hands. “Thanks for keeping us safe.” “As safe as we could,” Jean says. “Sorry about your face.” “Yeah, well, it’s the price of doing business.” Henry

grins and the two brothers laugh. They wave as they walk away. I’m left standing in the lobby next to Henry. The crew’s outside, finishing up packing the van. Next stop is the airport. “Think we can make this thing work?” I ask him. “I’m positive we can,” he says. “We just have some long nights ahead of us.” “At least we won’t be in this hotel anymore,” I say to him. I remember what he said, back in the elevator, and my heart flutters in my chest. “You think you can handle it?” he asks me. “The long nights, I mean.” “I think I can take it.” He grins and steps toward me. “I know you can.” He takes my chin and kisses me full and deep, right there in the lobby. I kiss him back. I don’t really care if anyone sees what we’re doing. Let them, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m realizing more and more how real this is, what I have with Henry. It’s consuming and encompassing and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I can feel myself falling into his orbit and I know I won’t escape.

I don’t want to. Not if I can help it anyway. He makes me feel better than I ever thought I would, better than I thought I had any right to feel. The past is gone and buried, and there’s only the two of us left standing, stronger than ever. I feel like the shifting sands under my feet are gone, replaced by concrete. I could stay here forever, holding Henry and letting him kiss me. But we do need to leave. Tom talked to us, sure, but the rest of the Strips are still gunning for us. I know we’ll be safe as soon as we leave Sellersville, though part of me already feels safe in Henry’s arms. “Come on,” he says finally. “Let’s get out of here.” “Yes, please,” I say, laughing. “It’s been fun, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting Alabama again for a long time.” “Don’t be so sure.” He grins at me. “You’ll be chasing some new story across this state in no time.” “You’re right. I can’t help myself.” He kisses me again, takes my hand, and we walk out of that lobby together. I don’t look back, because I have no reason to look back anymore. The best is yet to come, because I have Henry by

my side.

26

HENRY

I

can’t stop glancing at Vivian at the airport.

Bill, Trace, and Miller are all lost in their own little worlds. Bill isn’t getting drunk, which is a good thing, although I still never plan on working with him again. He did his job earlier, and that’s all I can ask from him. But I keep looking at Vivian and wondering what she’s thinking. I feel like we were in a bubble back there in Sellersville, with the threat of danger hanging over everything we did. Everything felt important and exciting, but now that we’re back in the airport, back in the dull gray and lifeless waiting room with the uncomfortable plastic row chairs and the constant pressure to buy something, I’m

worried that whatever magic we had growing between us is going to disappear. She’s wearing headphones and going over the footage from earlier today. It’s rough but I can tell it’s good already just from what little I saw. We have enough footage now to create a cohesive narrative, and it’s just up to Vivian to write it. I trust her completely, and I won’t try to shove my vision down her throat. The work stuff is over, more or less. I just worry that if we go back to reality without making this thing real, it may just fade away. It’s like we were on vacation and coming back to reality. What we had back there felt real, but maybe it was only intense in light of our situation and surroundings. “Henry,” Vivian says, catching me looking at her. “Check this out.” I feel relieved that she didn’t seem to notice I was staring. I shift over toward her and look at the laptop screen. It’s the raw footage of Tom. She gives me one of her earbuds and she hits play. In this scene, Tom is talking about the Strips in detail. In fact, it’s surprising detail. He names guys, mentions places they meet up, businesses they use as fronts, and houses they use as hideouts.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks me. I shake my head. “I don’t know.” “We need to give this to the police.” I watch her for a second and slowly nod. “You’re right.” “But how?” “Well, let’s get it together first. Where else did he talk about this kind of info?” We go through the video, side by side, falling back into the easy rhythm of work. We cut the footage into a short block of maybe ten minutes total, where he talks about the Strips. It’s not professionally edited by any means, but the cops will be able to get what they need from it. “Come on,” I say to her, standing. “Come with me.” I grab the laptop from her lap and help her up. We walk off, away from the guys. I lead the way, making a few turns, heading toward a more empty part of the airport. Once we’re alone, I turn to her. “Are you sure we can do this?” I ask her. “We’ll be giving up a source.”

She frowns. “Can we blur his face?” “No,” I say. “At least not from here. We can always just take the audio and send that.” “Okay,” she says, looking a little nervous. I open the laptop and sit down on the ground. I isolate the audio file before Googling the Sellersville Police Department. Once there, I find a few emails of the narcotics detectives, put them all in a single message. I attach the audio file and write a quick little note in the body. I look at Viv, finger hovering over the send key. “Last chance. Should we turn back?” “No,” she says. “Send it. Fuck those guys.” I grin at her. “Good.” I hit send and shut the lid. “Now that’s done.” “Now that’s done,” she echoes, nodding. “We really got into it back there, didn’t we?” “Yeah, things got bad,” I say, laughing. “But we’re getting out of here.” “Think Tom and Pat will be okay?” I shrug. “Maybe. Probably. Who knows? That old woman is a survivor if I ever met one.” “Yeah, you’re right.” She leans up against me as

we’re sitting there in the abandoned part of the airport. For a second, I can pretend that we’re actually alone. “Listen, I need to say something,” I say softly to her. “What?” she asks, looking at me. “This, what’s happening between us… it’s real, right?” She stares back at me. “I think so.” “You need to know that it’s real, Viv. I know what happened in the past was bad but… I want more. I want you back in my life.” “I’m back,” she says, practically a whisper. I reach up and pull her against me, kissing her hard. She returns the kiss, mouth open, tongue against mine. I’m hard in a second, and I wish I could do something about it. “I love you,” I whisper to her. “Always have. Never stopped.” “I love you too,” she answers. “Always have.” I pull her tight against me. This is real, and this is going to last back home. This isn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t sure, but this kiss, the way she touches me,

I know it’s all real. I’ve never felt anything like it before and I know I’ll never feel anything like it again. She’s here, she’s really here, and she’s not going anywhere. Neither am I. No more running away or pushing her away. No more mistakes. I’m making her mine and I’m keeping her, because there’s nothing else for me. There’s only her, only the woman that makes me feel more alive than ever before, the woman that tests me, improves me, makes me strive to be a better man. She gave me everything I am, even if she doesn’t know it. Now she knows it, and she’s here to stay. I’d be an idiot if I let that go, and I never will.

27

VIVIAN

T “I HATE

hree Years Later

SNAKES .”

I look up at the sunlight coming in through the jungle’s canopy and for the hundredth time since coming to the Amazon, I wish nature weren’t so… natural. Henry laughs at me. “Come on. They’re not so bad.” “Only when they’re not trying to bite you, they’re fine. But everything in this place is biting me.” He grins and grabs my hand. “We’re close. Can you

feel it?” I nod, getting still for a second. I can feel it, he’s right. The guides are all tenser and the jungle seems quieter somehow, though still a racket of screaming birds and monkeys. We’re following a group of local guides, men that grew up in this region all their lives and watched as the local population fell into disarray and essentially slavery. We’re here chasing a story, like we always do, and this time it’s a big one. I spin the ring on my finger, the big diamond catching the light. It’s a nervous habit. We got married two years ago, two weeks after winning an award for our opioid short documentary. After that broke out and went viral, the police cracked down on the Strips. The audio we sent them was a big part of their case and apparently they made a lot of arrests. As far as I know, Tom and Pat are both doing just fine. I heard from them once, right around the time that we got married. It was just a quick email from Pat, saying hello, and thanking us for what we did. I haven’t heard anything since, but I like to imagine they’re both safe. Or at least Pat is. Ever since then, we’ve been traveling the world together, taking on assignments as they come. But

this one is special. This is our last assignment together, at least for a while. We reach the top of a hill and the guides all get down low into the brush. “Look,” the man named Manuel says. “There.” He points his machete across the jungle. Up ahead, we spot smoke coming up through the leaves, and I can just make out some buildings. Some hidden buildings. “That’s them?” I whisper. “Si,” he says. “Cocaine. Lots.” I glance at Henry and he nods. “Let’s do it.” I reach down and touch my stomach softly as we stand. I’m not pregnant, not yet, but when we’re done here we’re going to try. We’re going to settle down and take some safer assignments for a while, ride the desk as they say. We’re going to start a family. But first, we’re going to risk everything one last time for a big story. We’re here investigating cocaine factories hidden deep in the Amazon jungle. Local warlords have been rounding up indigenous peoples and essentially enslaving them, forcing them to grow

and manufacture the stuff. We’ve been quietly interviewing dozens of people this last week, and now we’re getting a close-up view of the actual factories. We move silently through the jungle, down toward the buildings. We don’t get too close, but just close enough for our photographer to grab some shots. The guides are dead silent and still, and I can tell that they’re afraid. I know if we get caught, we’ll likely be killed. People don’t come look at these buildings and survive. Henry wanted to leave me behind for this, of course, but I refused to even consider it. I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while he risks his life to get a glimpse of these buildings. If something goes bad, it goes bad for us both. We’re a team. He relented pretty fast, but I know he’d rather I were back in camp where it’s relatively safe. We sneak around the buildings, quietly moving through the trees. The only sound is the photographer’s camera clicking and clicking. We don’t see a single person, but there are lights in the windows. Just as we complete our circuit, something moves nearby. We drop to the ground as two men, armed to the teeth, walk past. The photographer, a crazy Australian guy names Jim, peeks up and snaps a

couple pictures. I’m afraid the guys will hear, but if they do, they don’t react. They keep talking in Spanish as they walk slowly away from us. After that, we quickly leave the area. Nobody talks until we’re a mile away from the place. “That was intense,” Henry says. “Fuck, Jim. You almost got us killed.” “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “But I didn’t. Got the good stuff, too.” He grins, looking at the screen on his camera. Henry sighs, shaking his head. “You did good. Just don’t do that shit again.” We fall back into line, walking through the jungle. It’s another hour back to camp. Henry walks next to me, holding my hand. “What do you think?” he asks me. “Exciting enough for you?” I nod, taking a deep breath. My heart rate hasn’t come down since Jim started taking pictures back there. “I think I might be done,” I say to him. “I think I am too.” He leans against me, squeezing my hand. “Let’s go home. We can finish the story from there. And then… we can start our family.” I nod and kiss him gently as we walk. “Okay,” I

say. “Let’s do it.” The smile on his face is so genuine that my entire world seems to expand. That’s how I always feel when I make Henry smile. Truth is, he’s given me more meaning than I can even imagine. He made my life exciting and fun and intense. It’s not just the sex, which is incredible, of course, but it’s work as well. I’ve never been so satisfied with someone before, and in every single aspect of my life. And now it’s time to make that life bigger. I’m ready to have a family. I dream about babies more and more lately, and I know he’s ready, too. This is our last outing, and now we’re done. One last time risking my life. And now it’s time to settle down. This is what I always pictured and wanted. I needed a life of adventure with Henry, and I know I’ll always get that from him. But now I’m realizing more and more that I want a family, something stable and beautiful to build with him. We’ll build it together, day after day, moment after moment. I want to hold him every night in our home. I want to raise a child together. He glances at me, and I know it’s right. He makes

everything expand and grow. He makes it all feel good. I squeeze his hand, pull him close and kiss him. My husband. The one that got away and came back to get me again. He’s everything and more. And I know there won’t be a single dull moment with him, no matter where we are, no matter what.

VIRGIN’S DADDY: A DARK ROMANCE

PROLOGUE: SADIE

M

y heart hammers and I’m nervous, so freaking nervous, though I know I don’t need to be. Gavin knows what he’s doing. I can see it in the way he moves and the way he speaks to me. Maybe it’s my first time, but it definitely isn’t his. Streetlights send shadows up through the windows in his penthouse apartment, making the night feel deep. Gavin smirks as he runs his hands down my hips, along the length of my dress. They reach the hem and stop, pressing lightly against my skin. “Is this what you imagined?” he whispers in my ear. I shake my head lightly. “Not at all.”

He slowly lifts the hem of my dress. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not supposed to be around Gavin at all. If my family found out what I was doing, they’d disown me and throw me away like trash. But I don’t care. I want this man so badly that I can barely stand it. “You’re sure you want to give yourself to me?” he asks softly, his lips gently grazing my neck. “Yes,” I gasp as his fingers finally find my soaking spot. “Good,” he says, taking a handful of my hair. “Because I want to teach you.” “Teach me?” I gasp. He grins. “You’ll see.” His fingers slide beneath my panties, rubbing up against my soaking pussy. I can barely think. I don’t know what I’m doing, why I’m finally giving myself to someone. I barely know this man, but I’m sure this is right. He’s older than me and very rich, but he’s trouble. My family would call him low-class, even if he does have as much money as they do or more. I’m from an old family, a very rich and wealthy

family. We’ve been in this city from its start, and we can count senators, mayors, and business magnates among our venerable ancestors. Or at least that’s what my parents say. Recently though, we haven’t earned a thing. We inherit our wealth and run the family business because it’s what’s expected. My brothers will be the businessmen, and I’ll marry some other rich eligible bachelor to ensure that the family line continues. I didn’t ask for this life. I don’t even know if I want it. But Gavin couldn’t be more different. Everything he has, he earned through hard work and intelligence. He came from nothing but now he’s something. He has experience. He has control. He is a confident and capable person, and I find that overwhelmingly attractive. Attractive enough to throw it all away. Just for one night of pleasure. Which is probably more than I could have ever expected if I continued along my previous path. His rough hands trail along my soft skin and his lips are firm against mine. I feel a thrill run through me

as he pulls off my dress. I love the way he looks at me. Like he’s starving for my body, like he can’t get enough. I want him to keep staring at me, but I know he’ll have to take his eyes away if we’re going to do what I want to do. He presses me against the wall-length glass and pins my hands above my head. I’m mostly naked, standing above the city. I’m more exposed than I’ve ever been before, the good rich virgin girl being pressed against this window. That thought only makes me more excited. “I’ll be gentle,” he says. “Do you have to be?” His smirk drives me wild. “At first. But soon. Very soon.” His thumb trails along my bottom lip. “Soon you’ll be down on all fours, begging for my thick cock.” As my teeth come down on the skin of his thumb, I know he’s right, and I can’t wait.

1

GAVIN

I

like charity.

Not a lot of guys in my position do, unless “charity” is the name of a stripper. Most guys, when they get as rich as I am, they just want to hold on to their wealth as much as possible. But to me, that’s so shortsighted and foolish. We’re all in this world together. Might as well help some people. Besides, I remember what it’s like to struggle. I remember going to bed without dinner because my parents could only afford one meal a day. I remember the struggle, the stress, and the fucking pain of having nothing at all. I remember all the time and effort I put into getting something, and I wish someone had helped us back then. Most guys

like me, they didn’t come from absolutely nothing. They don’t know what it’s like to really want for the basics. So charity is my thing. I have money, a lot of it, and I can afford to give some away. Which I do, as liberally as possible, sometimes too much if you want to listen to my business manager. But these rich ass, upper crust charity events, these aren’t usually my thing. As I walk into the banquet hall, I keep to the edges of the room after grabbing a glass of whisky from the open bar. Fortunately, I’m pretty anonymous in here. Everyone else is a rich business magnate, just like me, and so I can hang around and keep a low profile. I’m not particularly well-known, mostly because I’ve worked to keep it that way. Everyone knows my business and my name, but not everyone knows what I look like. That’s helped me lead a relatively normal life. And so I blend in wearing my tuxedo and drinking my whisky. I’ve been around this crowd for years now, I’m thirty-nine years old and I’ve been rich for ten of them, but this is only my second charity auction. I hate these things. They’re not really about the charity. They’re more about the opportunity to

network with other rich assholes, maybe to bribe a few politicians, that sort of thing. Sure, there’s a real charity, and they write a check at the end of the night, but the shit that goes on during the event is loathsome. I’m only here for two reasons. First, my business manager Rick keeps begging me to come to these things, says it would be good for the company. Being here tonight is one way to get him off my back and maybe a little bit to prove him wrong. Second, and more important, what’s being auctioned fascinated me, and I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, please have a seat.” An older woman, maybe ten years older than me, stands at the microphone on the stage. There’s a general murmur and commotion as people move toward their seats around the large banquet tables. “The auction will begin momentarily,” she says, before heading off to the side of the stage. I find my place at a table in the back. I specifically requested this spot, and I’m glad I did. I don’t recognize anyone at my table, although my neighbor to my right is a large drunk man with a thick beard. He clearly wants to chat, but I’m not in the mood. The crowd waits, a little restless, until music starts.

The woman returns, this time to applause, and beams out at the crowd. I assume she’s the one that organized all this, though I haven’t paid much attention. “Thank you all for being here,” she says. “And the children of Mercy General thank you as well.” More applause before she holds up her hands. “Our first girl hails from Rhode Island. The daughter of Patricia and Linus Vanderhoot, Layla Vanderhoot loves horses, skiing, and plaid skirts. Come on out, Layla!” The crowd erupts into wild applause as a small girl with brown hair and dressed in an elegant gown steps out into the stage. She’s probably midtwenties, pretty but not beautiful. “Do I hear one thousand?” the woman at the microphone says, and the bidding begins. It’s a fascinating spectacle. Daughters of the wealthy elite are paraded out onto the stage, one after another, and equally wealthy men bid outrageous sums of money to take them out on dates. The first girl, the Vanderhoot girl, is pretty but fairly plain, and even she fetches twenty grand, a respectable sum. I hope she enjoys talking horses and skirts with her suitor, who is clearly in his eighties and making lewd jokes with his peers.

Winning a date doesn’t guarantee anything untoward, of course. It just means you get to take the woman out on a date, probably chaperoned, for one night. That’s all it is, and it’s supposed to be innocent, but there’s a strange and creepy undertone to the whole thing. I lean back and watch. I don’t plan on bidding on anyone, and in fact I already wrote a fifty thousand dollar check to Mercy General earlier that morning, so I did my charitable duty. The girls themselves aren’t very interesting, and nobody is really making me want to speak up. I drink my whisky and then another, observing. I’m here at least, and Rick can’t deny that. I never said I’d fucking socialize or network, although I probably should. Nine girls come and go, nearly half of the herd. There’s going to be a break before dinner, and then the final ten are going to be sold off. I plan on slipping out before the entrees, since I’ve already seen enough. But something stops me before I can get up. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sadie Tillman!” The crowd claps loudly. I recognize that name. I wasn’t listening when the woman introduced

Sadie’s interests, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is the woman who walks out on stage. She’s probably twenty years old, about five foot five to my six foot four. She has dark hair, midnight black, down to the middle of her back and thick. I can see her deep green eyes even from my spot toward the back. She’s wearing a blue dress, shimmering slightly in the ballroom spotlight, that hugs her ample curves. She looks a little overwhelmed as she smiles and waves hesitantly, and instantly I feel something stirring inside of me, something I didn’t expect. She’s fucking gorgeous. I know the Tillmans, they’re old fucking money, the kind of people I despise. But Sadie herself doesn’t seem like the other rich girls. She’s not plain, far from it. She has a fascinating, beautiful look to her. That raven black hair is so interesting compared with the usual blondes and brunettes you see. She’s not extremely done-up, and doesn’t need to be. She’s clearly naturally beautiful, if a little shy. “Do I hear two thousand for Sadie?” the woman says. Several paddles raise, and there’s laughter across the ballroom. The bidding continues, and I can’t

stop staring at Sadie. She’s alluring. Fucking gorgeous. How is a girl like her standing up on that stage, among these fucking animals? She’s a goddess and we’re the mortals tasked with worshipping her. I want her. The thought hits me like a sledgehammer. I want her badly, have to have her. My attention is suddenly pulled back to the woman on the stage. “Do I hear forty?” she asks, and another paddle raises. “Forty-five?” Silence from the crowd. I frown, looking up at Sadie. She’s worth so much fucking more than forty-five thousand dollars. I don’t know what comes over me, but I raise my paddle high in the air. “Ah, the gentleman in the back,” the woman says. “Do I hear fifty?” My opponent raises his paddle. “Fifty-five?” I raise my paddle. “Sixty?”

He raises his. “Sixty-five?” “One hundred thousand,” I call out, raising my paddle. There’s a stirring and a general murmur. The man I’m bidding against turns to look back at me, and I finally get a sense of him. He’s younger than everyone else here, younger than me. I think I recognize him, but I can’t be sure from the distance, and he quickly turns back. “Two hundred thousand,” he says to the woman. She looks taken aback. “Well, now, this is very generous.” Sadie herself looks incredibly nervous, but she keeps smiling. I know she can’t see me, not with the spotlight in her eyes, but I don’t care. I have to have her. “Half a million,” I call out. There’s an uproar as people cry out about the absurd amount of money. Sadie looks nervous. The drunk man next to me laughs and claps me on the back. I don’t care about any of that. I only have eyes for

Sadie, and I want this more than anything. The money doesn’t matter to me. “Well, this is unprecedented,” the woman says. “Do I hear five hundred and ten?” There’s silence, and my opponent doesn’t move. “Going once, going twice, sold to the gentleman in the back. You are incredibly generous and the children of Mercy General thank you.” I give a little nod to the crowd as they cheer and clap. I hate being the center of attention like this, but I can’t help but think it was worth it. Sadie stands on the stage for a moment, frowning out at the crowd, trying to spot me. But she’s quickly ushered off, and dinner begins. “Mr. Waller.” The woman from the stage approaches me. I stand and shake her hand. “My name is Belinda Stitcher.” “You know me,” I say to her. “Of course. I was the one that invited you.” She beams and I don’t like her smug look, but it doesn’t matter. She leans toward me, directing me away from the table and the crowd. “Listen, that was a lot of money you pledged.” “I wanted to win,” I say.

“Good, very good. And we appreciate it. But, ah, it’s not a binding thing. See what I’m saying?” I shake my head. “I follow through on my promises. Where do I write the check?” She blushes. “Of course, of course. No need for that now. Stay, enjoy yourself.” “I’m going to head home,” I say. “Contact my office about the girl and the check.” She frowns. “Surely you want to stay for a free meal at least? You’re so generous.” “Contact my office,” I say again, glancing back at the room. “And tell the girl that Gavin Waller won her. I’m very much looking forward to meeting her.” Without another word, I hurry away. Partly because I want to get away from that crowd, and partly because I don’t want to meet Sadie, not yet at least. I want to meet her on my terms, on a date of my choosing. Besides, I feel like I’ve made a fool of myself, bidding so much on her. That’s going to give the rich a lot to gossip about. I don’t care though. All I can think about as I head home is Sadie Tillman, gorgeous and embarrassed, looking like something I’ve never seen before.

2

SADIE

“A

re you ready, honey?”

My mother fusses over my hair and my outfit. I frown at the ground, trying not to think too much about what I’m going to do. Just stand there and smile, I think to myself. I can do that, it’s not so hard. “She’s on in a minute,” a man holding a clipboard says to my mother. “You look great,” mother says to me, fussing again with renewed energy. “Remember, it doesn’t matter how much they pay for you. I just want you to get out there. Besides, Milo plans on winning.” I have to force myself not to groan. Milo Fitzwilliam is a favorite of my mother and father.

He’s the son and heir to the Fitzwilliam fortune, one of the most powerful families in the whole city. My family is up there, and they’ve been trying to arrange something with the Fitzwilliam family for a long time. I’m supposed to be that something. I’m a bargaining chip to my parents. My mother is fussing and being kind right now, but only because she’s worried that I’m going to embarrass her out on that stage. It doesn’t matter. I’m used to that sort of thing. My parents are constantly acting like I’m a failure and an embarrassment all because I don’t love horseback riding and I haven’t locked down a rich man yet. They’re excited that Milo is interested, but they’re afraid he’s our last chance. They don’t ask me what I want, of course. That doesn’t matter. I’m a Tillman daughter, and that means I’ll do my duty for the family and marry a good rich boy. That’s just what I was born for and what I’m expected to do. I didn’t get to go to college. I went to an elite prep school, of course, since my parents wouldn’t dream of sending me anywhere else. But while most of my other classmates got to go off to universities and colleges, I was forced to stay home with my family. My place isn’t at a university, my mother said, but

marrying an eligible man. He can worry about taking care of me. Sometimes, I dream about leaving. I dream about running away from my multi-story apartment and living in some tiny shack out in the woods. I’d learn to cook and clean and grow things. It’s a childish dream, I know, and it’ll never happen. But it just speaks toward how much I want to get away from my family and become my own person. “You can do this,” my mother says to me as the man with the clipboard motions for me to follow him. “Don’t embarrass me.” Her final words ring in my ears as I’m ushered away from her. Of course that’s all she cares about, not how I feel. I was never asked if I wanted to be auctioned off like some whore or piece of cattle. I was never asked if I wanted to go on a date with a random rich man. My parents felt this was a good thing for me to do, and so I’m doing it. The stage is brightly lit and I can barely see out into the crowd. The applause is loud and I’m nervous as I step onto the little taped mark where I’m supposed to stand. I don’t know what to do with my arms, and so I wave a little bit, smiling nervously. The bidding begins, and people are actually putting

up money. I didn’t expect that. I never fit in with the other ultra wealthy and privileged girls. I tried to make friends at school, but I couldn’t care less about the trivial things that they were interested in. I don’t like riding horses and I have no interest in endlessly discussing boys and how much their families are worth. I like to read and paint, but nobody ever asked me about that. I have friends, of course, but nobody that close, and anyway they’re all gone off to college now. I look out into the crowd, and suddenly I spot Milo. He’s sitting toward the front, grinning at me, as he raises his paddle to bid. I keep smiling, feeling mortified and embarrassed out on the stage. I hate being looked at like I’m just a thing to be bought and sold, but I can’t do anything about it. I can’t embarrass my family by backing out now. Milo bids again and suddenly I’m struck by the intense desire to run. I don’t want to go out on a date with him. He’s close to my father and brothers, and he’s always around the house. He’s short, barely a couple inches taller than me, with thinning hair and this goofy smile. My mother once said he looks like his family, inbred and without manners. I hate the tone of that joke, but there’s some truth to it. Milo bids again, a pretty large amount, and I feel

intense dread deep inside of me. I expect him to win, when suddenly someone else bids, someone in the back. I strain to see, but the lights are too bright. I can’t spot him. But I do see Milo’s face and he’s angry. They get into a bidding war. I can’t believe the numbers they’re throwing out, and Milo is getting more and more angry. It gets all the way up to one hundred thousand dollars, more than anyone else has gone for, and I can see that Milo’s anger is shifting into shock. I nearly faint when the man in the back bids half a million dollars. Milo’s expression is absolutely priceless, though, and I already know my parents are furious. The hostess counts down, and the strange man wins. I try to catch another glimpse of him, but I can’t see, and the room falls into an uproar of excitement. I’m ushered off the stage, and into the warm embrace of my family. Except there’s nothing warm about my mother. “That bastard,” she says, furious. “Who does he think he is?” “Low class,” my brother Michael says. He’s my eldest brother and we’re not close. “Poor Milo,” my mother says. “He really wanted to

win. Did you see him bidding, Sadie? Milo has his eye on you. I think you should be proud.” “Sure,” I say to her. “Half a million though, sis. That’s pretty fucking good.” Peter grins at me. He’s only two years older than me. I laugh and shrug. “I guess I’m worth it.” “Yeah, right.” He makes a face. “You’re two hundred thousand, at best.” “Cut it out, you two,” my mother snaps, and Peter grins at me. He’s the only person in my family that I actually like. He’s not quite a black sheep, not like I am at least, but he doesn’t buy into their ultra rich and conservative attitude. He likes to laugh and have fun and enjoy life much more than my very stuckup and conservative father and mother do. “Who was he, anyway?” Michael asks. “I couldn’t see,” I admit. “I didn’t catch it, either,” my mother says. “Hold on, let me find Belinda. She’ll know. Maybe we can somehow fix this.” My mother storms off, leaving me with my brothers. My father is somewhere in the dining hall, no doubt shaking hands and making

business connections. Michael frowns at me for a moment. “You should stand up straight,” he says, before turning away and looking at his phone. I sigh and Peter makes a face, mocking our older brother. I can’t help but laugh. “You did good up there,” he says. “Really?” I ask him. “I felt like I was going to puke.” He shakes his head. “Seriously. The other girls all looked like frightened deer. You just looked like a nervous deer.” “Perfect. That’s what I was going for.” “Come on,” Peter says. “Let’s catch a glimpse of your suitor.” I follow him around the corner, leaving Michael to himself. We step through a door and head into the main ballroom. It’s crowded as servers carry dinner plates to each guest. There’s probably half the net worth of America in this room right now, which strikes me as absurd and silly. It’s a bunch of white, old, privileged men, hoarding their money, and only giving some to charity in exchange for buying a young woman’s attention for a night. It’s crass and

lewd and I hate it all over again. Peter grabs a drink off a passing tray and winks at me. We walk along the edge of the room, looking at the guests. “There’s your boyfriend,” Peter says, nodding. I follow his gaze and spot Milo chatting with a group of men. “Come on,” I say, hurrying away. Peter laughs. “Don’t want to see him?” “I’m afraid he’ll propose.” “I wouldn’t blame him. Poor guy. Looked like he might puke when he lost.” I can’t help but smile at that. “There’s mom,” I say, pointing. She’s walking quickly toward the back of the ballroom, heading right toward Belinda Stitcher, the woman who headed up this whole thing. Belinda is standing with a man that I’ve never seen before. He’s wearing a tuxedo, like everyone else in this place, so he must belong here. But he’s younger than most of the men, maybe in his late thirties at most. And he’s handsome, incredibly handsome. He has striking blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, a bit longer on top, combed back. His jaw is square

and there’s a bit of stubble on his chin, like he couldn’t be bothered to shave for this event. He nods at Belinda and walks away quickly before my mother arrives. I only get a glimpse of him, but I’m fascinated. I’ve never seen a man like him before at an event like this. He looked rugged, handsome, not at all like the stuck-up and stodgy old men that typically come to a charity event. “Who was that?” I ask Peter. He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably a waiter.” I smile half-heartedly at his joke. Even Peter can be stuck-up sometimes. We watch as mother accosts Belinda. They speak for a moment, and suddenly mother steps back, her eyes wide. And then the conversation begins again, this time with a renewed frenzy. Mother looks angry and Belinda a little overwhelmed. “What’s that all about?” Peter asks me. “I’m assuming she doesn’t approve of my future date,” I say. “Of course she doesn’t.” Peter gives me a look. “Unless he’s old money and powerful, Regina Tillman does not give a shit about him.”

I laugh softly. Mother breaks away from Belinda, looking angry. I’ve seen that look before, and I don’t like it at all. Peter waves at her, and she spots him, sighing to herself. She walks over to the pair of us, glancing around like she’s afraid that someone will notice something is wrong. “Well, mother?” Peter asks her. “Don’t be rude, Peter,” Mother says, though her heart isn’t into it. She looks at me, a frown on her face. “What?” I ask her. “I found out who your date is, and you simply aren’t going.” I pause for a second and it hits me. My date has to be that man. “Who is it?” I ask her, my heart beating fast. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll go with Milo and that’s that.” “Mother,” I say softly. “Tell me.” She looks a little surprised. I don’t often stand up to her. Which is probably why she actually listens for

once. “His name is Gavin Waller, and he’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all.” I don’t recognize the name, but Peter laughs out loud. “Waller! He’s that young guy, made a mint selling guns to the military before making even more on the stock market.” “It wasn’t guns,” my mother says. “He sold flooring laminates.” “Boring. I prefer the guns,” Peter says. “Was that him?” I ask my mother. “Talking to Belinda just a second ago.” She pauses and nods. “That was him. And Sadie, he isn’t appropriate for you. No, not at all. We’ll go with Milo.” “He won me,” I say loudly with more force than intended. It surprises me almost as much as it surprises Peter and my mother. They both stare at me like I’ve gone insane. My mother snaps out of it quicker than Peter. “Sadie, what did you just say?” “He won me,” I repeat, a little softer. “And he bid a

lot of money. The hospital needs that money. I’m going on that date.” She stares, shocked. “You absolutely are not.” Peter laughs and grins at my mother. “She has a point, mom. That was a lot of money. If she backs out, imagine how it’ll look?” Peter nudges me, and I understand where he’s going with this. “We’ll look stingy,” I say. “Like we don’t care about sick children. It’ll be a scandal.” The dreaded “s” word brings my mother up short. She chews her lower lip for a moment, thinking. “We can’t afford to appear like we hate sick children,” she says slowly. “Mother, Sadie simply must go,” Peter says. “He’s right. I have to go. It’s my duty.” Mother agrees, nodding. We just played on all her weaknesses. Image, duty, and the fear of scandals are all serious motivating forces for our mother. “Very well. We’ll figure it out.” She looks away. “Come on. Let’s go join your father.” Peter grins at me and I feel a thrill run through me. I don’t get my way very often in this family, and it feels good to finally stand up for something.

Even if that something is a strange man who I’ve never met before. I float through the rest of the evening, acting like the upper class woman that I’m supposed to be, but inside I’m thinking about things that would make my parents disown me. The truth is, I have very little experience with men. All through school, I had only two serious boyfriends, and we never slept together. We fooled around, of course, but they were too afraid of who my parents were to really push further. They were nervous boys, and my relationships with them never lasted long. That’s my deepest, most secret, hidden shame: I’m a virgin. I’m twenty years old and I’ve never had sex. So many of my peers were having sex all the time, but I just never did. And now I’m stuck at home, barely seeing anyone my own age, and I’m frustrated as all hell. Now suddenly, this handsome stranger walks into my life. He’s not a nervous boy, not at all. He’s an actual man, an older man, and he clearly has experience. I’d be lying if I tried to say that wasn’t part of why I want to go out with him. I want to see what it’s like to be with a real man. I want to live a little bit, experience the real world.

And this man might be able to give me that experience. He’s definitely handsome enough to make my stomach turn. Plus, my mother doesn’t approve, and that only makes it so much better. I don’t know what’s going to happen with this date. It’ll probably be chaperoned and boring, but I don’t care. I’ll be doing something my mother doesn’t want me to do, and I’ll be doing it with a handsome older man. Maybe he’ll be totally unlike all of the other rich assholes I meet in my life. Maybe I’ll actually like him. I can’t stop thinking about that glimpse I got of my future date, and I can’t wait to actually go out with him.

3

GAVIN

I

’ve never felt nervous for a date in my entire fucking life, but here I am, sitting in the back of my town car and waiting for Sadie Tillman, feeling like a fucking teenager again. I don’t know what it is about this girl. It’s not her family, that’s for sure. After I won the date and wrote the check, my office was flooded with calls about the Tillman girl. People wanted to know what the hell I was thinking, going up against the Tillmans like that. But I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t see it as pushing back against a powerful family. I saw it as getting a woman I wanted. Plain and simple.

Rick was pissed, of course. He has to deal with the questions and the pressure now, and he thinks there might be some business ramifications. Doesn’t matter to me. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with, and my business is rock solid. Nobody in this city can fuck that up considering I deal mostly with the Feds and the military. I have some deep contracts with them, the sorts of things that don’t go away unless I truly fuck up. Buying a woman at a charity auction against the wishes of her rich family isn’t nearly bad enough. But none of that makes me nervous. It’s Sadie herself. I don’t know why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her standing up on that stage. I keep picturing her long dark hair covering her breasts, wearing only a pair of thin white cotton panties. I’d feel her smooth light skin, her full red lips, and wrap my fist through her thick hair, pulling her head back. My heart beats fast as I get lost in my fantasy. I almost don’t notice it when Sadie appears at the door to her building, frowning out at the car. I quickly get out and walk toward her. She looks at me, her eyes widening slightly, but she doesn’t look surprised.

Good. I want her to know about me. I’m betting her family has told her some unflattering things. Sadie stands there and extends her hand, maybe a little stiffly. She’s wearing a relatively conservative outfit, tight dark jeans and a dark blue cardigan, but her hair is down and her eyes look excited. I take her hand, shaking it, and smirk at her. “I’m your date,” I say. “Sadie,” she answers. “I know. And I think you know my name.” She bites her lip. “Gavin.” “That’s right.” I smile larger. I really like the sound of her voice and the feeling of her palm against mine. I let her hand drop. “It’s good to meet you. Ready?” She nods once. “Ready.” “Where’s the chaperone?” I ask her as we head to the car. That was one stipulation her parents put on this date. “He’ll follow in his car,” she says. “I’m surprised. I expected him to be in my lap the whole night.”

“My mother would have loved that,” she says, smiling a little mischievously. “But I convinced her otherwise.” I smile and open the car door for her, shutting it once she gets in. That’s very, very interesting. She convinced her mother to let us have a little alone time, at least during the car rides. I wonder why she would do that. I walk quickly and purposefully around the car then get in on the other side. Once I’m in, the driver heads off, the divider up between him and us. “So Gavin,” Sadie says. “Where are you taking me tonight?” I smile at her, leaning toward her. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and even being this close to her makes my heart hammer. “Somewhere special,” I say. “At least, special to me.” “Sounds interesting.” “It is,” I say. “You know, I’m not from all of this.” I gesture at the big buildings all around me. “Not from the city?” she asks with a little smile. I grin at her. She clearly understood me, but is giving me a hard time. “I’m from the city, but not this part. We’re going to a place that I grew up

with.” She perks up a little bit. “Really? I’d really like that.” “It’s called Luberto’s. It’s a little Italian place on the west side of the city.” “Seriously?” she asks, laughing. “I’ve never been to the west side before.” It’s my turn to laugh, surprised. “You’ve never been to an entire part of the city?” “I know. It’s stupid, right?” “Not stupid. Just a shame. You’re missing out.” “I know,” she says, and there’s something more behind her words. “I’m glad your first time can be with me.” She blushes suddenly and looks out the window. “Right. Of course.” I cock my head at her, a little confused about her reaction, but I decide not to press it. As we drive to Luberto’s, I ask her little questions about her life, where she grew up, the schools she attended. I keep it light and easy, not wanting to dive into the hard stuff yet. She’s surprisingly easy

to talk to, and tells me all about her life as an upper crust rich girl. None of it is surprising. She has the same life as a million other girls like her. That’s not really what interests me about her, if I’m being honest. It’s the way that she talks about her life that fascinates me. Most rich girls seem to think that the sun shines out their ass, but not Sadie. She plays down the schools she went to, the things she did, like it isn’t the most elite of the elite possible. She doesn’t brag about her family, which most rich girls do, and she doesn’t press me about my own. And she doesn’t ask me about my business. I actually like that about her. Most rich girls immediately want to know how much money I make, although they’re too polite to actually come out and say it. Sadie doesn’t seem at all interested in that. In fact, she mostly asks about hobbies and interests, and spends a lot of time talking about how much she likes to paint, although she says she’s awful at it. By the end of the ride, I’m totally fucking charmed by her. I had a feeling that she was different, but I couldn’t have known how right I was. Sadie is the first girl from rich parents that I haven’t actually despised after ten minutes of talking to her.

Pretty soon we reach Luberto’s. The ten-minute car ride passes in the blink of an eye, which surprises me. We step out and I open her door. “It’s cute,” she says, smiling broadly. “It’s like home to me,” I say. “I grew up around here, you know.” “Really?” she asks. “Really. The place we’ll go after this, it’s where I had my first beer.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Impressive.” “Not really. It’s a dump.” “I’m going to love it.” I laugh a little and we step into the restaurant. Luberto’s is a little Italian place, maybe seats for forty people or so, but it has the best food in the whole damn city. I rented out the private back room, and the hostess ushers us back there. It has a single table with a white tablecloth, a single white candle, and a single red rose. I get Sadie seated, sit across from her, and the waitress takes our drink orders right away. I ask for a whisky, and Sadie asks for some white wine. “This is nice,” she says.

“Normally it’s more crowded,” I answer. “But for tonight, I thought I’d give us a little privacy.” She laughs lightly and shrugs. “I don’t mind crowded. Although I’m sure Reginald won’t love that.” I cock my head at her. “Reginald?” “Oh, he’s the chaperone for tonight. I’m sure he’s in the other room right now, fuming that we’re in a private space.” “What, does he think I’m going to corrupt you too easily?” She blushes a little. “Probably.” “Maybe he’s right.” I lean toward her with a wicked smile. She blushes deeper and looks away. She pauses for a second. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” We’re interrupted briefly as the waitress returns with our drinks. I sip my whisky and Sadie fusses with her wine. “I wanted to know why you spent so much money,” she says finally, blurting it out once the waitress is gone.

I grin huge at her. “Maybe I just like kids.” “Maybe,” she says. “But you could just write a check instead of bidding on me. Or you could have bid on any other girl.” “You interested me,” I say. “Did you . . . know about my family?” I sigh, leaning toward her. “That’s what this is about?” She shrugs. “A lot of people do things just because of my family.” “That’s not why I bought you. Actually, that’s a reason not to. I think your family hates me.” She smiles a little. “Yeah. They do.” I laugh. I like how honest she is. “Do you really want to know?” She nods, getting into the conversation. “Yeah, I do.” I can see a little sparkle in her eye. “It’s because I want you,” I say simply. She looks surprised. “W-what?” she stutters. I smirk at her again and sip my whisky casually. “As soon as I saw you on that stage, I knew you were different. And I wanted you then, and I still

want you now. Do you even know the effect you have on men?” She gapes at me, clearly shocked and at a loss for words. I can’t help but laugh softly at her reaction. I can tell nobody has ever talked to her like this before, and she doesn’t know what to do. Conflicting emotions play on her face. She’s torn between disgust, surprise, anger, and pure desire. “I see,” she finally says. “Are you always this forward?” “No,” I admit. “Not always. But I wanted to see you blush again.” That finally gets the reaction I want. She blushes slightly and looks down at the table. “So you bought me just because you want to sleep with me.” “Not entirely, no,” I say. “That’s part of it. I want to undress you and make you experience things those rich little prep school assholes could never do.” She stares at me and bites her lip, and I know I’m right about that. “I also thought you’d be different from those other stuck-up rich girls up there. I didn’t plan on bidding at all, but as soon as you stepped out, I couldn’t help myself.” She watches me quietly for a second. Her face sets

into a mask of distant anger, but I like that about her. She looks a little defiant, and it wouldn’t be any fun if she didn’t put up a little fight. But I saw it already. I saw that look on her face, while she was trying to decide how to respond. It was desire, clear and plain as day. She’s still an upper crust rich girl and she has to put up a front. She can’t just give in to what she wants. Not at first, at least. “What was it about me that interested you so much? Aside from your crude thoughts.” I smirk and shrug. “You know how it can be. Girls like you have a certain way.” “Girls like me?” I sip my whisky. “Rich girls.” “I see. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?” “How can it not? It’s what you are.” “So that makes you a poor boy.” She arches an eyebrow. “I guess so,” I say. “You poor, poor boy.” I laugh softly. “Not at all. I love where I come

from.” “So do I.” She crosses her arms a little. I laugh again and watch her. I can tell that she’s annoyed by the assumptions I’ve made about her, and I can’t blame her. But the thing is, I know I’m right. Fortunately, we don’t have to get too into it. The waitress comes and takes our orders, breaking the tension. I feel a little guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. She was practically begging for it, and the look on her face was priceless. I’ll have to make it up to her, though. “I kissed my first girl in this restaurant,” I say to her once the waitress leaves. “Did you have to pay her half a million dollars?” I grin at her. “Fair enough, I deserved that. Do you want to hear the story?” “Fine.” I can tell she’s annoyed, but this story always loosens people up. “I was thirteen years old, just a young man. Didn’t know a thing about girls.” “You weren’t always this smooth talker?” she asks, smiling slightly.

“Believe it or not. Back then, there was this gorgeous girl, lived down the street from me, Becky Carmichael. God, I loved Becky so much I could barely breathe. You know how that can be, when you’re young. It’s the most intense feeling in the world.” She smiles slightly and nods. “You’re almost stupid for it.” “You think it’s the most important thing in the world.” She laughs a little. “I felt that way for Robert Smith.” I pause. “The guy from The Cure.” She cocks her head. “The what?” “Never mind.” “He was a boy that went to my school. Couldn’t get enough of him. Long eyelashes.” I grin at her. “Sounds like my Becky. Anyway, one night, my best friend Jimmy tells her that I have a crush on her, and dares her to kiss me. For whatever reason, she agrees, and we all meet in the back of this place, over by the bathrooms just out there.” I gesture toward the main room. “Did you kiss her?” she asks.

“I did,” I say. “And it was the most incredible thing. Didn’t know what I was doing, but I was doing it. And as the kiss was ending, I heard a click and a laugh, and when I looked over, it was Jimmy, holding his father’s camera.” “He didn’t!” Sadie says, laughing. “He did,” I confirm. “And he got it developed and gave it to me years later. And I still have that picture.” “No way,” she says, laughing. “I do, I swear it. I’ll show you one day.” “Okay then,” she says, shaking her head and smiling. “That’s a good story.” “Your turn now,” I say, leaning back and sipping my drink. “Tell me about your first kiss.” She laughs a little. “No way. It’s embarrassing.” “Can’t be more embarrassing than mine. Besides, I bet you were a little flirt back then.” “Hardly.” She smiles and fingers her wine glass. “I didn’t kiss a boy until I was sixteen.” “Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Hard sometimes, being in my family.” She gets a

little quiet and doesn’t elaborate. I don’t push her. I get a glimpse of those depths again. I know there’s more to her than what’s on the surface, and I want to get to know her, but I know I have to be a little more delicate. Our meals come soon and we fall into more comfortable small talk about our lives. She tells me about growing up with her family and going to school, and I tell her about what this neighborhood was like when I was young. We laugh a lot and things are surprisingly comfortable. The tension is still there, lingering beneath the surface, but she quickly loosens up and I can tell she forgets all about being annoyed. Soon, our meals are finished, and we’re leaning back, stuffed to the brim. “What did you think?” I ask her. “Best food ever, right?” She nods. “And enough to feed a horse.” “Easily. Two horses, I bet.” She grins. “I like it here.” “I’m glad. I love this place.” I’m about to ask her something else about her life when suddenly the door opens. I’m expecting the

waitress, but instead it’s a man I don’t recognize, tall and thin, wearing a suit and an overcoat. Sadie turns to look at him. “Reginald?” she asks. “What are you doing here?” “Excuse me, Miss Sadie, but it’s time.” He nods at his watch. She narrows her eyes. “We just finished. We’re having a nice time.” I feel a thrill run through me. “I’m sorry, Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “But your parents expect you promptly at ten.” She looks surprised. “It’s that late already?” Reginald nods. I check my watch, and sure enough, two hours slipped past without us realizing. “Well, then,” I say, knowing when it’s time to let things take their course. “We should say good night.” She nods and stands up. I can tell she wants to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. “I had fun,” I say. “Thanks,” she says awkwardly. We’re both aware of Reginald watching, his disapproving stare

making her squirm a little. I just ignore him. “Call me sometime. I had a good time.” “Okay,” she says, pausing. “Good night.” “Good night.” She glances back at me as Reginald sweeps her away, taking her out of the room. I watch her leave and feel disappointed. It doesn’t occur to me until she’s gone that I never gave her my number. I don’t know what I expected. That date went well, very well. I couldn’t have hoped for more, not on a first date, let alone one chaperoned by her family driver. Still, I wanted more. I wanted to bend her over that table and fuck her goddamn brains out. She’s so uptight but I can see the freak underneath that fake classy exterior. I know she wants it as much as I do, but her breeding and the way she was raised is holding her back. I’ll break that, though. I know she’ll call. She’s too fascinated by what I said earlier, even if it did make her a little mad. She’s never been talked to that way before, but she wants more. I’m willing to give it to her. But I have to be

patient. She’ll come to me, sooner or later. And if she doesn’t, I’ll find a way to get what I want.

4

SADIE

B

reakfast in the Tillman household is practically a spiritual thing.

I wake up early, my mind still buzzing over my date the night before. I blink at the weak morning light filtering in through the gauzy white curtains and sit up. My bed is huge, a four-poster, probably an antique. I’ve been sleeping in it since I was a kid, and I suspect that my mother gave it to me as some kind of princess fantasy fulfillment for herself. I love my little corner of our apartment. I have my big beautiful bed, my little desk with my laptop, my dresser, and a deep walk-in closet. I don’t have a television, because that stuff can rot my brain, according to my father, but that doesn’t matter. I spend most of my time in here, because there’s one

more special thing that I love even more than everything else. I get up and stretch, then head into my closet to throw some clothes on. I turn on the light and grab some sweats and a t-shirt before turning to the other side of the closet. The wall is covered with shelves, and the shelves are full of books. It’s basically my own little library. My father converted my closet into half a bookshelf when I was younger and he realized that I loved reading. So half of my closet has all my clothes, and the other half has all my books, and it’s basically heaven. There’s a big, thick cushion on the floor in the back left corner and some candles sitting on the shelves. Sometimes, I come in here and light the candles and leave only a single weak lamp on as I curl up in my little nook and read. I smile to myself as I head down toward the kitchen. Our apartment takes up two whole floors in a nice building right downtown, and it’s been in our family forever. The place looks like it was decorated in another century, because it really was. Old oil paintings hang on the walls and they sometimes clash with the more modern flourishes my father has put in place since he inherited the family home. I pause at the top of the steps. I can hear voices

downstairs, my family all sitting down at the table to eat. I think back to my date with Gavin and I can’t help but smile. I got a glimpse into his life, the kind of glimpse I never expected to get. I didn’t know what to think about him at first. He’s intimidating and intense, but I was never worried about him, not like my parents were. They sent Reginald along to make sure that he didn’t get me into any trouble, and obviously Reginald had some strict orders to make sure that I came home right after dinner. But I never felt out of place with Gavin. We were in his old neighborhood, basically his old home, but I didn’t feel like I didn’t belong. He did his best to tell me stories from his past, and our conversation flowed so easily. There was only one moment that struck me a little bit. When he was so forward with me, telling me what he wanted, I felt a thrill run down my spine. I couldn’t let him see that I liked it, that I wanted him to keep going, to tell me all the dirty things he wants to do to me. I couldn’t let him see that, because I don’t really know. I’m nervous to go there. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex before. I don’t have that kind of experience, not the kind of experience that Gavin clearly has.

But he makes me want to learn, even if that’s very wrong. I head down the steps, trying to forget about Gavin. I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. I could probably find him again, see him at some social function, or maybe track him down another way. But my parents would never allow it, and they’d do anything they can to keep me away from him. Truth is, I’ve spent so long under the control of my family that I don’t know how to go against their wishes, even for something that I actually want. The smell of breakfast wafts into my nose, delicious and bright. I can’t help but smile. Our cook, Betty, is one of the best people in the whole world, and she always makes me an extra pancake with M&Ms in it. The dining room is the third room on the left. It’s connected to the kitchen. There’s a long table against the far wall with a buffet-style setup, like every morning, and a couple staff members stand quietly against the back wall. One of them, Thomas, gives me a little wink, and I smile back at him. Thomas is one of my favorite staff members. It’s weird to live in a house that’s more like a hotel. We have people that work for us, who cook and clean and take care of things for us. I didn’t realize that was strange when I was a little girl. I assumed

everyone had that in their homes. But I know better now. My life is far from ordinary, and sometimes I don’t like that. Sometimes I wish I knew how normal people lived. I want to know what it’s like to have real responsibility and not endless privilege. “Good morning.” I look over and spot my father, sitting in his normal position, looking at me. Peter is sitting to my father’s left, not paying attention to anything around him. Michael is to his right, reading the paper, and my mother is nowhere to be seen. “Good morning,” I say absently. I grab a plate and get my food and a cup of coffee. “Morning,” Peter says as I sit down next to him. He pauses then turns to me, eyes wide. “How was your date?” He seems excited, a little smile on his face. I can already sense my father’s disapproving glare. “It was fine,” I say, turning to my food, but Peter doesn’t take the hint. “Come on, tell me about it. Where did he take you?” I pause, willing myself not to look at father or Michael, though they’re both watching me now.

“A place in his old neighborhood,” I say. “Luberto’s.” “Was it nice?” Peter asks. “Not really,” I say. “But it also was. It was a local place, very family-oriented, and he’s clearly been there a lot—“ My father interrupts you. “I’m not surprised he took you to a place like that.” The table falls silent and I look over at my father. “It was nice,” I say. “It’s probably dangerous.” He makes a face. “Filthy, trash-ridden, and unsanitary. You should never have been set up with a man like that.” “It was for charity,” I say softly. “Father is right,” Michael says, his gaze cold. “Gavin Waller has a bad reputation. It’s good Reginald was with you.” I frown a little bit. I don’t know much about Gavin’s reputation, but I do know that my father dislikes anyone who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth. “Gavin was a gentleman,” I say. “Your brother is right,” father says. “Gavin is no

good for you. I’m glad that debacle is all over with.” He turns back to his food with a satisfied smile on his face. I glance down at my plate and suddenly feel anger welling up inside of me. I don’t know how many times my brother and father have told me how I need to live my life, how I need to behave and not embarrass them. I’m sick of them treating me like I’m some little girl still. “I’m not hungry,” I say, pushing my plate away. “Sadie,” Peter says, but I just ignore him. I turn and leave the dining room. My father and Michael don’t say anything to stop me. They probably just think I’m being hysterical or emotional. Maybe I am, but I’m angry. I’m so tired of them treating me like a little girl. I hurry back to my room and shut the door softly. I sigh and head into my closet, curling up in my little nook with my laptop. I spend the rest of the morning searching for information on Gavin Waller. There’s not a whole lot out there, but I quickly come to understand what his reputation is.

He’s a notorious playboy. He’s never been married, but apparently he has been with every high society woman in the city, and he never settles for long. He’s filthy rich and handsome, of course, but he doesn’t seem interested in anything longterm. He doesn’t seem interested in a family. I sigh, leaning against the wall. I don’t even know if I want a family, although of course that’s expected of me. I’m supposed to marry a guy like Milo and breed little blue-blood babies with him until the day that I die. Somehow, that life doesn’t sound very rewarding. But Gavin seems real somehow, more real than Milo or my parents. I’ve barely had a taste of him, but I’m already so interested. I know it would probably be better if I just forgot about him, but I can’t help but think about him. As I start to daydream about Gavin’s hands on my body, there’s suddenly a knock at the bedroom door. I get up quickly and head over. I open it softly. Thomas stands there, smiling at me. “Package for you,” he says. “Thanks,” I say, a little confused. “I didn’t order anything, though.” He shrugs. “Came with the mail. No return

address.” He hands me the thin brown box, about the size of a dress box. I take it from him. “Thanks, Thomas.” “Have a nice day.” He smile again and I shut the door. Curious, I turn to my bed. I place the package down and pull it open, frowning as I go. The brown plain box reveals a shiny black one, though without a logo. I pull it out and place it on my bed before taking the top off. The first thing I notice is a card in a plain white envelope. I take it out and set it aside. Beneath it is some white tissue paper. Too curious to stop myself, I pull apart the tissue paper and slowly take out the contents. I turn bright red as I realize what I’m holding. It’s a black lacy lingerie set, clearly expensive, and incredibly revealing. It’s in my size, but I have no clue who sent it. I know I didn’t order it, because I don’t really own anything like this. My clothes tend to be pretty plain, but this… it’s sexy. I grab the card and tear it open. Inside is a plain white thick paper stock with a simple note. Call me. 555-506-5136. Gavin.

I gape at the note for a second before dropping it and stepping away from the bed, my heart hammering in my chest. I don’t know how, but Gavin managed to buy me lingerie that will clearly fit me, and even had it sent to my home. I’m sure my parents don’t know about this, or else they would have freaked out. I stare at the card before picking it up and reading it again. Heart beating fast, I type the number into my phone. For a second, I want to hit send, but instead I just save it. I pull the lingerie out of the box and hold it up, my whole body tingling with excitement. I can’t believe he sent me this. I’ve never had a man do something like this before. I should be insulted that he’d be so forward like this, and maybe a little wary now that I know about his bad reputation, but I just don’t care. In this moment, I’m more than excited imagining Gavin slowly peeling the bra and matching panties from my body. I’ve never felt so sexy in my whole life. I want to try it on, but I can’t. I’m too nervous, afraid that I might get caught. Instead, I quickly put the lingerie away and hide the box in the back of my closet. I tear up the card into tiny pieces and put it back into the cardboard. I’ll have Thomas or someone else dispose of it for me, just to make sure my parents

don’t see and ask me what I bought. It’s stupid that I have to sneak around my parents like this, but I’m still stuck under their thumb. I can’t help it. I don’t have any skills, and only a high school education. I don’t know what I’d do out in the real world without the safety net of my family. But now more than ever, I want to explore the world outside of my own little bubble. And Gavin, for all his flaws, may be the perfect way to do that.

5

GAVIN

I

can’t get the girl out of my head.

I don’t know why. I’ve never been so hung up on someone before. I’ve been with plenty of women, some of them rich, all of them beautiful, but none of them holds a candle to Sadie. I just keep seeing her coy little smile at dinner, the way she laughs, the way our conversation flowed with such ease. I can’t stop imagining what I’d do to her body. Sending her the lingerie wasn’t hard. Her family’s address is easy enough to get, and I figured that if I sent it to her but didn’t include a return address, she might just get it. But I have no clue if she did or not, because she

didn’t call. I don’t know what I expected, sending her lingerie. I knew it would rile her up at the very least. I half thought she might call me angry and demand an explanation. But I got something worse. I got silence. I didn’t expect silence. Anger I can deal with. Excitement and desire, obviously I want those. But just nothing, well, that drives me even crazier. Makes me want her even more. A couple days after the date and sending her the lingerie, I went to get a drink with my closest friend, Chuck Peck. He’s a friend from high school, one of the smartest guys I know. He turned his high school education into a job on Wall Street trading stocks. Chuck sips his whisky and cocks his head at me. “So what are you going to do?” he asks. I just finished telling him the story of Sadie Tillman. I shrug. “Not sure what I can do.” “Not like you to just give up.” “Never said I’d given up.” I grin at him. “Just need a new angle.” “The lingerie thing was a bold move.” “You know me. Can’t do anything halfway.”

“Maybe you scared the girl,” he muses. I frown a little bit and sip my own whisky. It’s smoky and malty, a really gorgeous blend. “Maybe,” I admit. “I don’t think so, though.” “The Tillmans are no joke,” Chuck says. “What if they found the box and she never got it?” “I suspect I’d be meeting with their lawyers then,” I say, grinning. Chuck sighs. “It’s not funny, man,” he says. “The Tillmans are like… buying out Congress rich. You know what I mean?” “Not to mention connected as all hell,” I say, nodding. “I get it.” “Why mess with them?” “I’m not,” I say. “You are. There are plenty of women in this city, and almost all of them won’t get you in fucking trouble with the Tillman family.” “I’ve had all of those women,” I say, grinning. “There’s just something about this one. I don’t know, man. I can’t explain it.” He looks at me then sighs, shaking his head. “You’re going to keep going after her, aren’t you?

Nothing I can say?” “You’ve known me long enough to know I’m not going to back off,” I say. He shrugs. “Okay then. What’s your next move?” “Another package,” I say. “But I need to think of what to put inside of it.” “Can’t help you there,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll listen and advise, but I’m not crossing that line.” “You afraid of the Tillmans?” He stares at me for a second then nods his head. “You’re damn right I am.” We go back to drinking and change the subject, but I can’t really blame him. Chuck is a smart guy, and he’s been around long enough to know that you don’t mess with people like the Tillmans. I’ve learned that same lesson, but apparently it didn’t stick. Because the next day, despite warnings from Chuck, I find myself putting together another package. This one is smaller, much smaller. It’s a box about eight inches long, two inches wide, and inside is a gorgeous little black vibrator.

I can’t help but feel excited as hell as I put together this package. I write a little more on the card this time, heart racing. You have the outfit and now you have the toy. Call me to discuss what to do with it. Gavin. I grin to myself as I put it all together. If her family intercepts this thing, I’ll be totally fucked. They’ll come after me hard, and I can’t really blame them. But she won’t be able to ignore this if she does get it somehow. The lingerie was pushing it, but this vibrator is stepping over the line and then running way past it. It’s going to piss her off, or maybe it’s going to excite her, but it’s going to get a reaction. I mail it off and then I wait. I sent the package by courier, so I know that she’ll get it by the morning at the latest, I can barely sleep that night, thinking about how she’ll react when she wakes up to this little surprise on her doorstep, or however rich girls like her get their mail. I get up early, workout to keep my mind occupied, and then I get my coffee and head into the office. I try to distract myself with work, but I can’t stop thinking about that package and about Sadie. She’s so fucking gorgeous and smart and funny, and she probably doesn’t even realize how much she has to offer. I bet her family keeps her locked up tight,

ready to be traded off to some other rich family in exchange for some business ties or some shit. A few hours trickle past. I keep looking at the clock and feeling more and more anxious. No one comes or goes, and soon I’m forced to have lunch. I eat at my desk, unable or unwilling to leave my office. I don’t know why. I keep looking at my phone, willing it to ring, but it doesn’t. The day slowly slips past. I know she got it, or at least the couriers say it was delivered to her address. Maybe the family intercepted it and I’m fucked, or maybe she’s just so insulted that she won’t respond to me. I can’t imagine that’s the case, though, but the lunch hour comes and goes and I hear nothing. All day passes. I’m practically sweating this goddamn thing, and I almost start to regret sending it. But no, no, I don’t regret shit. I want this girl, and I need to find a way to get her. Maybe this package didn’t work, but something else will. I’m not giving up so easily. I head home around seven that night, disappointed but accepting my situation. If she got the package and didn’t call, that means she’s probably beyond my reach. But if she didn’t get it, that meant the

family knows what I’ve sent her, and I’m in deep shit. I don’t care about the family. I’m more worried that I can’t even get a rise out of her. Which actually does interest me even more. If she’s so cool and calm and collected that a vibrator and some lingerie in the mail doesn’t provoke a reaction, she must be a really interesting girl, even more than I realized. I have a glass of whisky and I read the news, and around eight o’clock, when I’ve finally began to think about a new plan for Sadie, my phone starts to ring. My stomach lurches with excitement. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I let it ring one more time before answering. “Hello,” I say. There’s a pause. “Gavin?” It’s Sadie’s voice. My grin threatens to tear my face apart. “Sadie,” I say. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” She pauses again. “I got your, uh, presents.” “Good,” I say. “I hope you liked them.” “They were, uh, inappropriate.” Despite her words, she doesn’t sound angry.

“Inappropriate can be good sometimes.” She pauses again. I can tell that she’s thinking seriously about what she’s going to say next. “You can’t keep sending me things,” she says. “I can stop,” I say. “But I’m not sure you really want me to.” “You’re going to get me in trouble.” I smirk to myself, leaning back in my chair. “Maybe I want to get you in trouble. Maybe you need a little trouble in your life.” “You don’t know that,” she says softly. “Did you like my presents?” I ask. “Did you try them on?” Anther pause, and my grin gets bigger. That means she did. “Please, don’t send anything else. I’m afraid my family will catch it.” She changed the subject. She definitely tried that lingerie on, maybe even used the vibrator. My cock is hard as hell as I imagine her wearing nothing but the bra and panties, the panties shoved to one side to show off her perfect little pussy, the vibrator rolling along her skin, her moans filling the room. “Agree to meet with me and I won’t send another

thing,” I say, needing that image to become a reality. I want to make her wear that outfit and to get herself off with that vibrator while she sucks my cock. I want to get her begging for more before I’m done with her. “Okay,” she says, barely a whisper. “I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll text you when it’s ready.” I can practically see her, dripping wet, biting her lip. “This is a bad idea,” she says. “I shouldn’t see you. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.” “And yet you are talking to me and you’re going to see me. Even after I sent you two very inappropriate gifts. What does that say about you, Sadie?” “I don’t know,” she admits. “I know. It says that you’re a dirty fucking girl, and you want to see exactly how dirty you can get with me.” I hear a slight intake of air and I know I’ve pushed her. I smirk to myself. “You like playing with me, don’t you?” “Very much,” I say. “I’ll see you soon.”

I hang up the phone before she can say another word. I want to leave her with the image of me playing with her. I can think of plenty of games that she’ll love. I can see tying her up in my room, binding her hands and feet to my bed, spreading her wide and licking her until she screams with pleasure. I’m so fucking hard and I want her so badly, but I have to be patient. I stand up, get myself another whisky, and set about getting this next date ready.

6

SADIE

G

oing to see Gavin again is very, very dangerous. I know I should ignore him, but I can’t help it.

As soon as I got that second box, I knew I was going to call. I’ve never owned a vibrator before, but I’ve always wanted one. As soon as I got it, I took it from the box and hid away in my little closet nook, making sure the door was shut behind me. It felt so fucking good. I spread my legs wide and ran the vibrator up and down my clit. I’ve gotten myself off before, but never with a vibrator, never like that. I kept picturing Gavin’s rough hands on my soft skin, pushing me closer and closer until I finally came, his name on my lips. Sneaking out to see him is stupid, so damn stupid,

but it’s possible. The day after our phone call, he sends me a text with the details. I respond to him, and we work it out together, the plan forming. It’s not exactly complicated, but it’s not simple, either. I’m nervous all day long. By the time eight rolls around, and I’ve eaten dinner with my family, I’m antsy as hell. I go to my room and choose an outfit that won’t make my parents suspicious, so it can’t be too sexy or nice. But I do wear the lingerie Gavin got me underneath, just for myself. Or so I’m telling myself. When I’m dressed, I find my father in his study. “I’m going out for a bit,” I say to him. He looks up from his papers. “Where?” he asks. “Just a walk,” I say. “Feeling a little strange after dinner. A walk might be good.” He nods. “Bring someone with you.” “Sure,” I say and wave. I go for walks around the neighborhood all the time. Normally, I bring Thomas or Reginald with me, but today I don’t bother. I slip into the elevator and ride it down to the ground floor. I feel nervous as hell. I’ve gone out alone before, of course, but never to see a man that I know I shouldn’t see. I get to the street level and head

outside. I walk down a few blocks toward a small park. It’s dark out though the sidewalks are mostly empty in this part of town. I stop outside of the entrance to the park and check my watch. I’m a few minutes early, so I have to wait. It’s just enough time to wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. Maybe my parents are right. Not about him being “low class” and not worth my time, but about his reputation. I don’t care where Gavin was born or how much money he had growing up, but I am worried about his experience. I don’t have much experience, not compared to him. He knows things and has done things I’ve only ever fantasized about. I don’t know if I can handle the kind of man that would send a woman lingerie and a vibrator, especially a woman he barely knows. But maybe that’s also part of the attraction. And there is an attraction, I can’t deny that. I want Gavin probably more than I even realize, even from the moment I first saw him. I think part of that stems from his experience. He’s older than me, more mature, and more experienced. I want him to show me what to do, to teach me how to have sex, to show me what my body can do. I think he can do that and a lot more.

I’m nervous and practically shaking with excitement when a black car pulls up in front of me. Gavin steps out and grins at me. He’s so damn handsome, just like I remember. He’s tall, muscular, and he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. But there’s a gruffness to him, a hardness that the men I’m used to all lack. He’s confident and serious. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “Were you worried I wouldn’t?” He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He leans in and kisses my cheek softly. I feel a thrill run down my spine. “Ready?” “Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.” I climb into the car and he shuts the door after me, walking around to the other side. Once he’s in, the driver starts going. “Where are you taking me tonight?” I ask him. “Somewhere fun,” he says. “But it’s not dinner, so I hope you’re not hungry.” “I already ate,” I say. “Good,” he says. “We’re going dancing.”

I feel a little flutter in my chest. I’ve been to clubs before, of course, but never with someone like Gavin. We fall into a comfortable conversation until we arrive. It’s a place I recognize, or at least have heard of. It’s new, the sort of place I would have gone with my friends if they hadn’t all left for school. We climb out and Gavin skips the line, nodding at the bouncer as he lets us inside. It’s obviously new. Everything looks clean and like it was recently taken out of plastic or something. It’s pretty crowded, which surprises me since it’s the middle of the week. Gavin walks confidently through the crowd and leads us to a private table. He must have set this up already, because there’s a bottle of champagne on ice waiting for us. “To our second date,” he says, pouring two glasses. He hands me mine and we clink. I sip the cold, sweet, bubbling champagne and look out at the club. Beautiful people dance to the loud beat. Gavin sits close to me, his hand on my thigh, and I feel really out of place. I’m dressed for a walk in the street, not for a night out at the club. I have lingerie on underneath my sweater and jeans, but that’s not enough. I wish I had a cuter dress or something to make me blend in with the crowd better.

Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. He seems to only have eyes for me. I smile at him as he leans toward me. “Dance?” he asks, that one word sending a thrill down my spine. I look at him for a second then quickly nod. I want nothing more than to dance with this man. I want to feel him close to me. I crave it actually. I want to sweat and make him sweat and lose myself out there. He grins and finishes his drink. I do the same, feeling good. He stands, takes me by the hand, and leads me out onto the dance floor. We join the mass of people all writhing to the beat. He moves his hips up against mine and I wrap my arms around his neck as he puts his hands on my hips. We move together like that to the music, and I’m unsure of myself at first. I’ve never really danced with a total stranger like this before. I’ve danced with guys at clubs of course, but my girlfriends were always with me, and it was always something like a joke. But this is totally different. My girlfriends are nowhere to be seen and I’m disobeying my family to be out with this man. He’s much older than me, and I know exactly what he wants from me. Gavin hasn’t tried at all to hide his intentions.

That sends a serious thrill up my spine. I’ve never been with a man as forward as Gavin before. Hell, I’ve never been with a real man before, period. He’s a good dancer, and quickly I forget about my reservations. The crowd is lively and the dance floor is packed, but neither of us seems to really care. Soon it becomes just about me and him, like we’re totally alone in this mass of writhing and dancing bodies. I feel so good. I didn’t know I could feel this good. One song blends seamlessly into another, and we keep dancing, our bodies staying close. I’m smiling, and sweating, and so is he, but neither of us care. All that matters is the beat, his rough hands on my hips. His lips get close to my cheek, my neck, and I can feel his hot breath against my skin. It only makes my body that much more excited as I slide along his leg, moving my hips to the beat. I forget everything. I forget about my parents, about Milo, about my brothers. I forget who I am and pretend to be just another girl in this crowd, dancing with her man, and I feel better than I could have imagined. I don’t know how long we’re out there. An hour at least, maybe two, maybe the whole damn night. We take one break to get a drink of water and a little

champagne, joking and flirting as we sit in our private little booth, but he quickly leads me back out onto the dance floor for more. The lights stay dark after a while, and soon the music slows down a little bit. Gavin grins at me, squeezing my hand, pulling my body tight against his. I can feel his hard cock through his pants and that only sends a thrill through me. I’m dripping wet and have been for a while now. Dancing with him is the most sensual and passionate thing I’ve ever experienced before. We’re practically fucking on this dance floor, surrounded by other people, and for some reason that ignites me, makes me go crazy. He squeezes my ass and smirks at me. “Glad you came?” he asks in my ear as we sway together. “Yes,” I admit, blushing a little bit. “I knew you would be.” And then he tips my chin toward him and kisses me. I kiss him back with an intensity that actually surprises me. I knew that I wanted him, but I had no clue how badly. Now though, as we finally kiss, his lips against mine, his taste in my mouth, I realize

that it’s absolutely overwhelming. I’m risking so damn much to be with this man right now, risking so much for this kiss, and it’s undeniably worth it. He breaks off the kiss after a moment and I see something in his eyes. It’s desire, pure and simple, and I know I’m looking at him the same way. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. He pulls me away from the dance floor and I follow him back toward the bathrooms. It’s a co-ed bathroom, the kind with a shared sink and mirror but big stalls that anybody can use. He cuts the line, ignoring people’s complaints, and shoves me into the next empty stall, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. I press myself up against the wall. “Classy,” I say. He smirks at me. “You’re too nice,” he says. “A little rich girl. Never been fucked before in a club bathroom, have you?” I bite my lip. I’ve never been fucked before, period. “No,” I say, not wanting to tell him the full truth. “Didn’t think so.” He tips my chin up toward him. “I want to dirty you up, Sadie girl,” he whispers. “Make you experience things. Feel things. You’ve lived in a bubble for way too long.”

I can feel a fire rocking through me as he kisses me again hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and suddenly I don’t care that we’re in some bathroom, locked in a stall with other people all around us. I don’t care about any of that. His hands run up my thighs, sending chills down my spine as he unbuttons my jeans and tugs them down over my hips. He pulls back to look at me and groans. “You wore them,” he says. I nod, smiling at him. “I thought you sent them to me for a reason.” He grabs my hair, tipping my head back. “You’re such a good girl,” he says, and he slides his hand down the front of my panties. His fingers find my swollen and wet clit as he presses against it firmly. “God damn, you’re soaking wet, too.” “Shit, Gavin,” I gasp a little bit, surprised by the pleasure. He pulls my hair tighter, sliding his fingers along my pussy, rubbing my clit, teasing me, before pressing his fingers inside of me. It feels so fucking good. He kisses my neck as his fingers do their magic, working my pussy, and I’ve never felt this way before. He grips my hair hard in his fist and the slight pain only makes the pleasure

so much better. I can’t help but moan, although I try hard to keep them quiet and stifled. I know people are all around us, but it just doesn’t matter to me in this moment. Gavin’s hands do things to my body that I’ve never felt before. “You like being with an older man, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear. I moan a little in response. “I don’t know,” I admit. “This is what you really need,” he says, looking into my eyes. “An older man to take care of you, to teach you things. You’re a good little rich girl, but deep down inside of you, I know there’s a dirty slut just begging to be let out.” I gasp as his fingers press inside of me again and I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I moan, not thinking clearly, not able to. It feels too good. “I know,” he says. “You need a Daddy. A man to make you feel good. To give you what you really want.” His lips find mine again and I’m losing it, completely and utterly. I know where this is leading. There’s some voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me, telling me that he’s going to fuck me. He’s going to do it right here, right now, and oh god, I’ve never done it

before. He doesn’t know that I’m a virgin. He clearly can see that I’m innocent and inexperienced, but he doesn’t know how far that goes. I press my hands against his chest suddenly, terrified of what I’m doing. I feel overwhelmed and scared. What if I disappoint him? I can’t have my first time happen in a bathroom stall. I press him back a little and he looks at me, his head cocked to the side. His hand slips out from the front of my jeans. “Wait,” I say, breathless. “Slow down.” “Slow down?” He smirks. “Your body is saying something different, Sadie girl.” “I know, I just, please. Let’s slow down.” He nods. “Whatever you need.” I lean back against the wall for a second, breathing deep, and he watches me. He smirks a little bit. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get a drink. Take things slow.” I nod and smile a little, relieved. I get myself together and then we leave the stall. I feel a little embarrassed when people stare at us coming out together, but I don’t care what these strangers think.

I almost fucked him in that bathroom with all these people around, and I’m not even drunk. That thought actually terrifies me a little bit. I always saw myself as a good person, someone who had morals and followed the rules, but maybe I’m wrong. I didn’t know that sex could make me feel this way. It’s so good and it’s so wrong, and the wrongness makes it that much better. I know it’s messed up but I would have fucked him back there if I hadn’t said anything. But he didn’t push. I could tell that he wanted it badly, could feel it in his body, but he backed off. I’m a little relieved, actually. I’ve heard so many stories of guys being pushy, but maybe men aren’t like that, at least real men aren’t. Gavin doesn’t seem like the type that needs to pressure someone into sex. Being around him is pressure enough. His confidence is so sexy that I don’t know how long I can resist it. We head back out into the main part of the club and angle toward the booth. But before we can get there, Reginald appears through the crowd. I’m shocked to see him. I stop short and I feel Gavin tense just behind me.

“Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “Your father sent me to bring you home.” I stare at him, totally shocked. “How—how did you find me?” He shakes his head, face stern. “Doesn’t matter. Please, come with me.” “Sadie,” Gavin says, taking my hand. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” I turn away from Reginald and look up at Gavin. “I should go,” I say. “I had fun.” He nods, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah. Me too.” I kiss him quickly on the cheek, squeeze his hand, and then turn away. I follow Reginald, glancing back only once to see Gavin watching me leave. I’m terrified as I get into the car. Reginald heads back toward our apartment, and I know I’m in deep shit. I shouldn’t be surprised that someone was sent for me. My family is incredibly well connected. At a club like that, there are probably like fifty people that know me by sight, and I bet someone called my father to let him know that I was out with Gavin Waller. My father is going to be livid, but it doesn’t matter.

I’m a grown woman, despite what he thinks, although I am still dependent on them. Still, tonight was one of the best nights of my life. Sure, I chickened out and backed away from sex with Gavin, but still. He felt so good and gave me a glimpse of what it could be like if I finally gave myself to him. I know it’ll be incredible. It just wasn’t the right time yet. I’m going to get yelled at when we get home, but it’s fine. I’ll survive it. And then I’ll call Gavin and see him again, because I haven’t gotten enough yet. In fact, I only just got my first taste. Soon, I’m going to get another.

7

GAVIN

I

sip my beer and glance down at my watch, frowning to myself. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I last saw Sadie, but I haven’t heard from her yet. I know she’s probably in deep shit with her family, but I’m actually starting to worry. That’s a new feeling. I never really worried about a woman before, not this way at least. I have female friends and I’ve gotten close to lovers, but this is a different feeling entirely. I’m almost protective of her. I want to make sure she’s being treated well and taken care of, even if maybe that’s not my role. Not yet, at least. I want to take that on for her though. I want to be the man who protects her, cares for her, takes care of her.

And I have no clue how to feel about that. “You’re quiet,” Chuck says to me. We’re sitting in a little shitty dive bar in the old neighborhood. There’s a basketball game on TV and most of the locals are either drunk or well on their way to being drunk. The place is dingy and poorly lit, which is part of its charm. The bar is old and somewhat sticky from years and years of spilled drinks. All the tables are wood covered with shellac, basically big, plastic, and indestructible at this point. It’s pretty empty, which surprises me. Usually a working class haunt like this would be packed late at night, even on a work night, but maybe the economy is worse than I realized. “Guess I don’t have a lot to say,” I respond. “How’s the girl doing?” He grins at me a little. I sigh. “I was wondering how long before you brought it up.” “Hey, man, I gave you a beer. Now it’s time to talk.” “Took her out last night.” He whistles. “Damn, man.” “It was good. Took her to that new club, Deep Spot

or whatever it’s called.” “Dark Spot,” he corrects. “Whatever. We danced, drank, you know.” “Fucked?” he asks. I give him a look. “Don’t be an asshole.” He laughs a little. “So you don’t kiss and tell now?” “No,” I say pointedly. “And I never did before.” I’m not the type to brag about my conquests. “Yeah, fine, fair enough.” Chuck sips his beer again. “Still, the Tillman daughter. It’s pretty ballsy.” “Yeah, well, I’m not sure it’s going to happen again.” “Why? She get to know you?” He grins at me. I just ignore his lame joke. “Her butler, or maybe her driver, I’m not sure, but anyway, he came and found us.” Chuck raises an eyebrow. “You for real?” I nod. “He didn’t look happy.” Chuck watches me for a second then bursts out laughing. I sigh, sipping my beer. “Holy fuck,”

Chuck says between breaths. “You got fucking caught! With the Tillman daughter!” He cracks up, shaking his head. “Glad you enjoy it,” I mutter. Chuck laughs a little more and gets himself under control. I flip a peanut shell into the basket, not bothering to eat the peanut. I can only imagine how many hands have been in that peanut bowl before mine, but I’m just trying to distract myself and I know it. “So what happened?” he asks me. “Nothing,” I say. “She went home and I haven’t heard from her.” “They probably shipped her off to a convent.” “This isn’t the dark ages.” He grins at me. “It basically is with a family like that.” I sigh and look at the bar. “I’m afraid I fucked up.” “How?” he asks softly. I look up at him. “What do you mean?” “Are you afraid you fucked up because you got her in trouble, or because you got yourself in trouble?”

I blink. “Because I got her in trouble,” I say. “Shit, it didn’t even occur to me that they might be unhappy with me.” “Good,” he says, smiling a little. “Why?” “Means you actually like this girl.” I nod slowly. “Guess I do.” “Come on,” he says, “last drink is on me.” I grin and we start talking about business, but I still have Sadie on my mind as we finish that last drink. It’s around one in the morning when we finally leave. Chuck gets in his car and heads home, and I have my driver take me back to my apartment. I could just go into the office and sleep there, but I want to shower in the morning and we’re not far from my place. The driver drops me off and I tip him before heading upstairs. My apartment is like my second home. I spend a lot of time in the office, mostly because I have everything there that I could need. But it’s still nice to have a home that isn’t in the middle of my job. I take the elevator to the top and step off. I pause outside of my door, cocking my head.

It’s slightly ajar. I don’t remember leaving it open. I frown a little bit and push it open. Maybe one of the people that I hire stopped by, maybe the cook is here or one of the cleaning people. They know I keep weird hours and maybe they figured they’d get an early start or something. But of course that’s a stupid thought, and it hits me as soon as I’m in my apartment. All of the lights are on, which I know I definitely didn’t do. Who the hell would go to their job at one in the morning, unless they were up to no good? I pause in my hallway. “Hello?” I call out. The answer comes back instantly. “In the living room.” A chill runs down my spine. I don’t recognize that voice. I step toward the table in my entrance way and reach for the drawer. I keep a small gun in there, just a little .22 caliber thing, but it’ll be enough. “Don’t bother with the gun,” the voice calls out. “I checked already. It’s empty.” I reach into the drawer, heart hammering, and pick it up. I pull out the magazine and sure enough, it’s empty. Cursing under my breath, I put it back into the drawer and walk slowly toward my living room.

“Who are you?” I call out. “And what do you want?” “No need to be nervous, Mr. Waller,” the man says. “I’m not here to rob you.” I relax slightly at the way he speaks to me. I step into the living room and spot the man standing near the wall-sized windows, looking out over the city. He turns toward me, a smile on his face. He’s in his late forties, maybe ten years older than me. He wears a dark suit, a dark tie, and a white shirt. His hair is thinning and balding in the back, but his eyes are sharp, and he looks like he’s in good shape. He has a square jaw and he clearly works out, though he’s a couple inches shorter than me. If I didn’t now any better, I’d think I could take him. But he doesn’t look like a normal person. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Plus, normal people don’t break into apartments in the middle of the night just for a chat. “Who are you?” I ask him again, standing in the entranceway. He smiles at me and raises his hands, palms out. “My name is Silas,” he says. “I work for the Tillmans. I’m just here to talk.” I frown at him, but relax slightly. If the Tillmans

sent him, that means he’s probably not here to rob and kill me. But he might be here for something much worse. “Do you want something?” I ask him. He smiles slightly. “Interesting. I break into your apartment and you ask if I want something.” I shrug, playing it cool, and walk to the kitchen. “Might as well be polite. Whisky?” He nods. “Okay then.” I pour two glasses and hand him one. I sip mine and eye him. We stand on either side of the kitchen island. “Well, you probably want to know why I’m here.” I nod once. “I’d like that.” “It’s late, so I’ll try and be brief. You seem reasonable, Mr. Waller.” “Call me Gavin.” “Okay, Gavin.” Silas puts his drink down on the counter and looks at me, a little smile on his face. “Truth is, Mr. Tillman is very angry about you seeing his daughter behind his back.” I clench my jaw slightly. “Is she okay?”

Silas smiles a little wider. “She’s fine, as far as I know. Curious that you’d ask.” “I know your employer can be… harsh.” “Harsh. Good word.” Silas takes another sip of his whisky. “I’m here to give you a simple message, Gavin. It’s the kind of message that I’m often hired to give, and I really, really hate giving it more than once. Are you ready?” “Get on with it,” I say, staring at him, anger rising in my throat like bile. “Stay away from Sadie Tillman. It’s that simple. Stay away from her, and everything will be just fine.” I stare at his smiling face and I can hear the threat there, implicit behind his words. “And if I don’t, everything won’t,” I say. Silas just shrugs and smiles, not responding. “Do you always do Tillman’s dirty work?” I ask him. “I’ve been in his employ for many years,” he admits. “Though I have other clients, of course.” He puts his drink down and steps away from the counter. “I’m going to leave now, Gavin.”

“Tell your boss that I’m not interested in his threats.” Silas nods. “I suspected you’d say that. Guys like you aren’t easy to intimidate. You’re from the west side, right?” I hesitate a second. “Right,” I say. “I know lots of guys from there. I grew up there myself. I know you’re used to big thugs trying to push everyone around. But listen, Gavin, and listen closely. I don’t like giving this message more than once. This has been a pleasant interaction. Let’s not have an unpleasant one.” He smiles one last time before turning and walking out. I watch him go and I don’t say a word. Adrenaline courses through my veins and anger clutches at my throat. I hear Silas disappear down the hallway, open my door, and shut it again. I clench my glass and end up tossing back the rest of the whisky in one smooth motion. I’d be a liar if I tried to pretend like it doesn’t freak me the fuck out that Silas broke into my apartment so easily. He could have done anything to me. Fortunately, he just wanted to threaten me, but it could have been much worse. I wasn’t prepared for that, not at all.

But I’m going to be prepared. I believe him when he says that our next meeting will be much less pleasant, and I’m going to be ready for that. Because I’m not backing off Sadie. Those Tillman fucks think they can control her and push me around, but I’m not the kind of man that can be fucked with. When I want something, I get it, and I want Sadie. I want to be her Daddy. I want to dominate her, control her, make her feel things she’s never dreamed of. Her family isn’t going to stand in my way.

8

SADIE

I

expected to get screamed at. I expected my father and my brothers to be there, waiting for me, ready to tell me how I’m disappointing them. Well, maybe not Peter, but definitely Michael. Instead, the apartment was quiet. Reginald told me good night and then left me there. Nobody yelled, nobody scolded, nothing. So I went to bed, still thinking about Gavin. The moment in the bathroom kept coming back to me. It was a potential turning point for me, but I was afraid. I was too scared to really turn away from my old life and embrace something new. If I had slept with him in there, I would be a totally new woman.

Still, making out with him in a stall and letting him touch me like that is something. I’ve never done something like that before, and never imagined I would, not before Gavin. He makes me want to live, to really live. He makes me want to be something more than whatever my family wants me to be. The next morning, I’m up early. I’m a little tired, but I’m going to be brave. I’m going to face my family and the consequences no matter what. I put on clothes, brush my teeth, and steady myself before heading downstairs for breakfast. My brothers are there and so are both my parents. My father glances up from his paper when I come into the room. “You slept late,” he comments. I pause. “I guess so,” I say. I expect him to start yelling any minute. But everyone acts normal. Mother doesn’t look up at me. Peter is busy on his phone. Michael is reading the paper. Nobody is staring at me. Father doesn’t even look angry. He turns back to his paper. I grab a plate and load it up with the usual before taking my seat. I look around, totally confused, but everyone seems

absolutely normal. It feels like nothing at all happened, but of course father knows, and of course mother does, too. Maybe they’re just letting me get away with it. Or maybe their punishment is even worse than I could guess. I dig in, wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. I finish my meal as fast as possible, wanting to get back into my room so that I can text Gavin. As soon as I finish, though, my father puts down his paper and clears his throat. “Peter, Michael, can you excuse us for a second?” Peter looks up, surprised. “Huh? I’m not finished.” “Peter,” mother says. “Please. We need to talk to your sister.” My face turns red. This is the moment I was dreading. I really thought I could get away with it, but apparently not. Michael stands and gives me a little look. I can’t understand it. I don’t know if he knows what I’m in trouble for, or if he’s just always something of an ass. Peter gives me a little smile and reluctantly leaves. He definitely doesn’t know, at least. Mother and father stare at me once my brothers are

gone. My father doesn’t look angry, but he’s not smiling either. Mother just looks tired. “You’re not a child anymore,” father says finally. “You’re becoming an adult, slowly but surely, no matter what we want. And I understand you’re going to want some measure of freedom.” I narrow my eyes at my father. “This isn’t about that.” “Let your father finish,” mother steps in suddenly, sounding angry. Father frowns. “Listen, Sadie. I’m not an unreasonable man. I understand you want to live your life and enjoy yourself. But honestly, Gavin Waller is an embarrassment.” “He isn’t,” I say. “Watch it,” mother says. “Sadie,” father cuts in. “I’m offering you a chance here. A clean slate. No punishments for sneaking off with that low-class man last night, but in exchange, you’ll do something for me.” I pause, a little surprised. I expected him to lose his temper and to yell at me, but he’s being surprisingly calm about this, almost reasonable. “What?” I ask him, skeptical.

“Go out on a date with a proper match,” he says. “Milo’s parents have already agreed. He’ll meet with you tomorrow night for dinner.” My eyes widen slightly. I know my parents want me to marry Milo and unite our families, but I had no clue they’d take it this far. “I can’t,” I say. “You will,” mother says, leaning toward me. “I’m so tired of you being such a little brat—“ “Regina,” my father says, stopping her. “Please.” He turns to me again, his face passive. “If you refuse to see Milo, that’s your choice, but we will no longer support you.” I gape at him. “What does that mean?” “Banishment,” mother says angrily. Father sighs. “Nothing so dramatic. We’ll send you to your cousin’s in upstate New York where you’ll meet with tutors for a few months. You’ll be comfortable there.” “And far away from that man,” mother says. I stare at the two of them. “I’m not a child,” I say softly. “You’re right,” father agrees. “You’re not. But you

rely on us for everything you have. And if you want to continue living your accustomed lifestyle, you will obey.” I frown down at my plate, not able to meet my father’s gaze. I don’t want to go out with Milo. He’s not the worst person in the world, but I’m just not interested in him. Frankly, he’s boring, and I know I’ll never marry him. Or at least I don’t want to ever marry him. Milo doesn’t make me feel even half as good as Gavin does. But I know that my parents can banish me to New York if they want. They can take everything I have away and make my life very, very difficult. Nobody will help me, either, because of how powerful my father is. I know he’s going easy on me right now, but things can be very, very bad. When I was a little girl, I snuck into my father’s office. It was off-limits back then, for good reason. I was stupid and silly, and I ended up breaking an antique model ship, one of my father’s favorites. He locked me in the basement for a week, feeding me once a day, before letting me out. Nobody said a word, but everyone knew what he had done. The staff all knew, my brothers both knew, and my mother knew. But nobody stopped him and nobody said a word.

My brothers have gotten it just as bad in the past. My father beat my brother Peter bloody once. Michael was forced to stand out on the roof in the rain for three hours in nothing but his underwear. I can only guess what my mother has been through. So when my father threatens me, I take him seriously. The money and the clothes and the comfort, that stuff doesn’t really motivate me. Of course, I like that stuff, and I want to be comfortable, but I don’t need that stuff. I want to get out from under my father’s control. But I can’t. Although he threatened to take things away from me, I know he’ll do worse. “Yes, father,” I whisper, and I hate myself for it. He smiles and my mother nods, looking smug. “Very good,” he says. “Tomorrow night. Until then, Thomas will be taking your laptop and your cellphone.” I don’t protest, I simply nod my head and accept it. “May I be excused?” I ask him. “Yes,” he says. “Thomas is already in your room, cleaning it out.” I stand and leave without another word. I hurry back to my room, heart beating fast in my chest.

Thomas gives me a sad look as I come into my room. He has a small box, and in it he has piled every device I could possibly use to contact the outside world. He leaves my room wordlessly, and doesn’t meet my gaze. I shut my door quietly before retreating into my closet. My fucking father. I finally let the anger that I’ve been suppressing flow through me as soon as I’m in my nook. I want to kill him, scream at him, hurt him as badly as he hurts me. But I can’t do anything. I’m powerless here, and I can’t even contact Gavin to explain. He’s going to wonder where I’ve gone and maybe think that I don’t want to see him anymore. I can handle a dinner with Milo. That’s not a big deal. I can get through it and pretend like I give a shit about any of it. But what I can’t handle is Gavin thinking I don’t want him anymore. Because I do. All of this is making me want him even more. Gavin is the first person to let me live the life that I want. He seems to care more about making me happy and making me feel good than getting whatever he wants out of me. He makes everything feel better. It’s just one dinner, I tell myself. Then I’ll get my

phone back and I’ll tell Gavin the truth about what’s happening. He’ll understand. It’s just one dinner.

MILO SMILES at me as he spreads his napkin in his lap. I smile back, trying to make the best of this situation, but inwardly dreading every single moment. “What do you think of the wine?” he asks me. I shrug a little and sip it again. “Pretty good.” He grins. “Pretty good? Please, this is some of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted. A lovely French vintage, I think, from the Somme region.” I frown a little bit. “Doesn’t it say that on the bottle?” He pauses. “Well, of course, but I can taste it in the grapes.” “Right.” He starts in on a little speech about how each different vintage comes out slightly different due to water levels and blah, blah, blah. I tune him out pretty quickly, idly playing with my fork, smiling

and nodding only when required, which isn’t often. The differences between this date and my date with Gavin couldn’t be more obvious. Gavin took me to a personal spot, a place he clearly loved and cared for, while Milo brought me to the most expensive restaurant he could. It’s a lovely place, and I’m sure the food is great, just like the wine is wonderful, but it feels cold. I can’t really explain it. Luberto’s was warm and inviting and maybe it wasn’t fine dining, but it was family style and it was delicious. I sigh to myself and glance down at the table. Milo doesn’t seem to notice that I’m not really listening, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks that having money and knowledge about things like wine, plus a strong family connection, makes him important and special. Well, it doesn’t. It makes him just like all of the other boys I know: dull and entitled. The waiter comes after a few minutes. He asks if we’re ready, and Milo doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, we’ll start with the anchovy spread and the rustic bread, please. The lady will have the halibut and I will have the risotto.” I blink, a little surprised. I wasn’t in the mood for

fish. I was going to order the biggest, juiciest steak on this damn menu and at least try to enjoy that. But by the time I come to my senses, the waiter is already gone. Milo smiles at me. “Have I ever told you about my father’s yacht?” I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know he had one.” Of course I knew he has one. Every rich person has one. It’s so cliché. “Well, we used to go fishing off the coast of Australia. We’d catch these enormous…” I tune him out again, looking down at my napkin. Milo is nice enough, I guess, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything but talking about himself. In fact, another big difference I noticed between Milo and Gavin is that Milo doesn’t ask me questions about myself. Gavin seemed genuinely interested in me. He asked questions about my life and followed up on the answers. But he didn’t ask much about my family at all, now that I think about it. He was more interested in me, what I like to do, what my hobbies are. Milo only seems to care about himself and his family. He’s the kind of man I’ve met a hundred

times before, obsessed with image and influence, the sort of stuff my own family is interested in. Even Peter buys into that. Peter is the only person in my family who seems to give a shit about me, but even he is obsessed with image and status above everything else. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live a normal life. I wonder if I would be happy without the money and the status. All this privilege gives me great stuff, and gives me so many opportunities. I don’t have to worry about money. But it also forces me into other roles, like having to be basically auctioned off to the highest bidder. I’m more of a tool than a person in my family structure, but with Gavin, I feel like I’m actually valued as a woman. Eventually our food comes, which is a really nice distraction from Milo’s monologue. At some point he switched over from yachts to inheritance tax structure, which is always a popular subject with the ultra rich. It doesn’t matter to me, since I won’t inherit much of anything. My parents want to marry me off to someone else that can take care of me. As I listen to Milo and our dinner finishes up, something important strikes me. Right now, I don’t have anything that’s just mine. Sure, I have a lot of things. I have clothes and

privilege and money and all that, but none of it is actually mine. I didn’t earn any of it. I’ve been given everything, and if my parents have their way, I’ll be given everything for the rest of my life. I see women like that, running charities and having lots of kids, but they never seem fulfilled. Right now, nothing I have is my own, but I want something that’s truly just mine. The dinner ends and Milo pays, of course, making sure I notice the generous tip he leaves. It’s not impressive, since I know that’s all his family money and he didn’t really earn any of it. We head out and Milo’s driver takes us back to my apartment. “I had a nice time,” Milo says to me. He slides across the seat, sitting close. Dread suddenly falls down my throat. “Sure, me too,” I say. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this match. Your parents can be a little… intense.” I smile at him. “That’s true.” “But it is a good match,” he continues. “You’re from good stock and so am I.” I cringe at that word, “stock,” like we’re freaking animals or something.

“That’s true,” I say, wanting this ride to be over so desperately I can practically taste it. “You’ve always been different, Sadie. I don’t know what it is, but I thought maybe you were different in a bad way. But now I see that you’re worth my time.” I cringe again. “Thanks,” I say, looking away from him. He doesn’t get the hint. He reaches out and takes my chin, turning my head toward him. Panic sets in, real and true panic. He leans toward me, clearly intending to kiss me, and I don’t know what to do. I turn my face away from him. He stops, inches away from me. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “I, uh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t kiss on the first date.” I don’t look at him. This is so awful. I don’t want to kiss this man or have anything to do with him, but I’m forced to be here. In a lot of ways, he is too, but he doesn’t realize it. “Yes, of course,” he says, moving away. “That’s more proper.” He smiles to himself, creating the lie

in his mind and believing it. Mercifully, the car pulls up in front of my building. He goes to say something, maybe wanting to set up another date, but I don’t give him the chance. I jump out of the car and hurry back inside, not able to stand another second with Milo. I’m so disgusted with myself and with my parents. They know I’m not interested in him, and I should give in to that sort of thing. I’m not just livestock that they can marry off like that, a pawn in their little political game. My heart is hammering as I ride the elevator up to our apartment. I storm inside, intending just to hide out in my room until I’m calmer, but a voice stops me short. “Sadie,” my father calls out from the dining room. “Come in here, please.” I pause for a second then tentatively head into the room. He’s sitting at the head of the table, reading a complicated document, with a glass of brandy at his elbow. He peers at me over his glasses, a small smile on his face. “How was the date, dear?” he asks. I want to yell at him. I want to really lay into him and tell him the truth. I want him to know how all of this makes me feel like less of a person and that

he’s doing this to me. But something stops me short. Sitting on the table next to his brandy is my cellphone. I could yell at him right now. I’m angry enough to do it. But if I give in to that impulse, I’ll never get my phone back. And my phone represents my freedom. That’s how I can get in touch with Gavin again. If I really want to see him again, I need to play the game and be smart about this. “It was nice,” I say, although it practically kills me to do it. Father doesn’t notice my anger or my discomfort, of course. “Very good,” he says, nodding. “I knew you’d get along well with Milo. He comes from good people, very good people, you’ll be happy with him.” I want to puke. “I agree,” I say to him. That clearly makes him happy. He smiles big. “Well. Good. Since you feel that way, I think maybe you should have your phone back. So that you can communicate with Milo.” He picks up my phone and holds it out for me. I take it from him. I feel dirty doing it, but I don’t

care. “Thank you,” I say and I give him a smile. “Good. Now run along. I’m proud of you.” I turn and leave the dining room as fast as I can. I hate having to do that, pretend that I’m one thing when I’m really something else, but I know that I have to. If I want to talk to Gavin, I need my phone. I hurry to my room, shut the door, and lock it. I head into my closet, crawl into my nook, and power my phone on. There are a few messages from Gavin, which isn’t surprising. My heart fluttering, I type out a text. “Meet me tomorrow?” I hit send. The wait feels like years though it’s probably only a few minutes. “Of course,” he says. “When and where?” “Ten,” I type back. “Same place as last time.” “See you then.” I smile and put my phone down, staring at the wall. I’m going against the direct wishes of my family, but I don’t care. I want this man and I want to have someone in my life who actually gives a crap about

me. I don’t want to get shackled to a man like Milo and end up alone and miserable for my whole life. Gavin represents freedom for me, but there’s always another basic truth that I can’t deny. I want him badly. I want him so badly that it makes my whole body feel weak. I smile to myself, picturing the gifts he might send me next, and try to figure out how I’m going to sneak out to see him.

9

GAVIN

I

half expect her not to be there. I don’t know why, but part of me thinks that this is some trick that fucker Silas is trying to play. I can’t resist it, though. I can’t miss an opportunity to see her like this. Maybe it’s not smart to go on this date with her, maybe I should just stay home and pretend like none of this happened, but I can’t help myself. I want Sadie, and I’m going to fucking have her. Tillman can send as many goons as he wants, but I’m not backing down. I’m nervous when the car pulls up, but there she is, standing under a streetlight and smiling. She’s wearing a long tan jacket, like something out of a

spy movie. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she looks absolutely beautiful. I open the door and step out. “I’m glad you came,” I say. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asks. I shake my head. “No reason.” She smiles a little uncertainly. “Well, where are we going tonight?” “You seemed to like our first date, so I thought I’d bring you back there. To that neighborhood, at least.” She smiles as she climbs into the car. I close the door, go around to the other side, and get in. The driver pulls out. “I like seeing where you grew up,” she says. “Good, because you’re about to get a lot of that.” She grins at me. “Oh yeah?” I grin right back. “Absolutely.” “Are you about to show me some old home movies?” she asks, teasing. “Maybe some baby pictures?” “Not exactly,” I say. “But you’d love it if I did. I

was a really cute baby.” “I bet you were.” I laugh a little and ask about her childhood. I listen, actually pretty fascinated, as she talks about vacations to the coast and their country home. “Besides,” she says finally. “I spent most of my time at boarding schools.” “Really? I always thought that was a rich person cliché.” “It is,” she says. “But everyone does it. I think because our parents remember going, and it was like the best time of their lives.” “Did you love it?” I ask her. “Not exactly,” she says. “There were good parts and bad parts. I made a lot of friends, but…” She trails off, shrugging. “But what?” I ask gently. “But I never fit in,” she says. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging.” “You were different,” I offer. “Exactly,” she says. “Different enough, at least.” “You’re not bragging. I saw it as soon as you

stepped out on that stage.” She looks at me for a second then bites her lip. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know.” I smile gently and lean toward her. “Why’s that?” “My family doesn’t want it.” “I’m not worried about them. Do you want it?” She pauses, maybe a little surprised that I’m asking what she wants. “Yes,” she says softly. “That’s all I care about.” I want to say more, but the car pulls up outside of The Clinic, and I’m interrupted. I look out the window and grin. “Here we are,” I say. “It’s not much.” She smiles. “I don’t care. Let’s go.” I help her out of the car and we looks up at The Clinic’s façade for a second. It’s a rundown bar two blocks away from the house that I grew up in, and I can remember spending a lot of time in there when I was younger. Chucky and I still come here sometimes, and I know the owner pretty well, a woman by the name of Lucy. We step in through the worn green front door, and instantly I’m hit with nostalgia. The place looks like

a million dives before it, although the bar itself is really gorgeous. Lucy herself is working tonight and she gives me a little wave as she pours a drink. Chuck is sitting at the bar, and he pretends not to notice me coming in with Sadie, although he knew full well this was my plan tonight. I told the asshole not to show up, but of course he did. I steer Sadie over to a booth. “Sit tight,” I say to her. “There’s someone I need to see real fast.” She nods and sits down as I head over to Chuck. “I told you not to come,” I say to him. He just grins. “Couldn’t help myself. Had to see her.” He looks over my shoulder. “I can understand why you’re taking such a big risk on her.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Hey, Gavin,” Lucy says. “Hey, Lucy. Can I get a whisky and a wine?” “Sure thing.” I turn back to Chuck with a frown. “You might as well come meet her.” “Oh really? Am I so important now?” He gives me a fake little smug look.

“Cut that shit out,” I say. “Be normal, all right?” “Always am, Gav,” he says. Lucy returns with my drinks. I give her a nice big tip, since she won’t let me pay for them normally. We’ve gone through that dance one too many times in the past. Years ago, I gave her a little loan to help her keep the place open during some hard times, and drinks have been free ever since. She paid me back, of course, so I don’t feel like she owes me. Now I pay her through tips, which she complains about sometimes, but she always takes it. Chuck and I head back over to the booth. Sadie looks up and smiles as we approach. “Sadie,” I say to her. “This is Chuck. He’s an old friend.” “Charmed,” he says, grinning. “Nice to meet you.” They shake hands and then the two of us slip into the booth. Chuck sits opposite of Sadie and me. “How long have you known Gavin?” Sadie asks him. “Oh, god,” he says. “Years. How long’s it been, Gav?”

I shrug. “High school,” I say. “Really?” she asks, laughing a little bit. “You guys were friends in high school?” “We’re both from the neighborhood,” Chuck says. “Gavin got out first, but I wasn’t too far behind.” “Chuck works on Wall Street,” I explain. She nods, understanding. “Tell me an embarrassing story about him from back then,” she says to Chuck. His grin gets bigger and he looks at me. “I’ll let you choose. Deer or pie?” I groan a little bit. “Deer,” I say. “Please, never the pie story.” He laughs a little. “I’ll let him tell that one,” he says, looking back at Sadie. “Now I’m interested,” she says, nudging me. “Tell me the pie story. Is it, like, an American Pie thing?” Chuck laughs and I shake my head. “Not at all,” I answer quickly. “Chuck, just tell her the damn story.” “Back in the day, we had a senior prank thing. Kids probably still do it,” Chuck starts out. I sip my whisky, smiling a little bit. I actually like this story.

“So Gavin here gets it in his head that he’s going to have the best prank of all time.” “Oh, no,” Sadie says, sensing where this story is going. “Oh, yes,” Chuck says. “Gavin bought this, what was it, deer piss?” I nod. “Deer urine.” “Gotcha. Deer piss. It attracts deer, right? So he takes his uncle’s truck with this horse trailer on the back, fills the trailer with food and deer piss, and he leaves it there.” “My uncle was pissed,” I say, grinning. “Did that actually work?” she asks, astounded. “Well,” Chuck says. “The next day, it’s senior prank time. It’s lunch, I’ll never forget this. Our cafeteria has these big doors that go outside. Well, in the middle of the lunch period, those door suddenly get thrown open and Gavin yells, ‘DEER!’.” “I wasn’t too creative,” I say to her, shrugging. “So he throws open the back of the trailer, and this freaking deer, scared out of its mind and flipping out, runs into the cafeteria. Kids start to freak, run away, it’s total chaos as this deer runs around,

kicking and breaking shit. It was total madness.” “I got suspended for a week,” Gavin says. “What happened to the deer?” Sadie asks, laughing. “Janitors caught it eventually and had animal control take it away.” Sadie laughs, shaking her head. I grin at her, a little embarrassed, but it is a good story. Chuck mercifully left out the part about the deer kicking some poor kid in the arm and nearly breaking it. That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. That poor deer was probably scarred for life, although I don’t think it was ever actually hurt. Sadie seems to like it, at least, and the conversation quickly moves on to other memories. Chuck keeps it light and stays away from the more embarrassing tidbits. I finish my drink and Sadie finishes hers, which finally prompts me to drag Chuck away, back to the bar under the pretext of getting more drinks. “Well?” I ask him. He shrugs a little. “I like her.” “So you get it then?” His smile slowly fades. “Listen Gavin. That girl is trouble.”

I pause, a little surprised. Sadie is lovely, smart, and entertaining. She’s clearly getting along great with Chuck. As far as I can tell, the night is going perfectly. “Why do you say that?” I ask him. “Same reason as before. She’s charming, smart, pretty, all that,” he says quickly, “but she’s still a Tillman.” “And that’s trouble,” I finish for him. “That’s right. It’s trouble.” Chuck gives me a serious look, a rarity for him. “Don’t get too involved.” “Don’t worry,” I say. “I know what I’m doing.” “Says the guy that once released a freaking deer into a crowded cafeteria.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Do what you got to do, I guess.” “Don’t I always?” He grins and shrugs a little. “You sure do.” I clap him on the back, gather my drinks from Lucy, and head back over to the booth. Chuck stays behind to close out his tab, since his part of the evening is finished. I slide back into the booth across from Sadie.

“Chuck coming back?” she asks. “No,” I say. “I think he had enough stories.” She pouts. “I wasn’t finished. He was just getting to the good stuff.” “There is no good stuff, I promise you that.” “I don’t think so,” she says, smiling a little. “You have a bad reputation.” “That’s because you rich folk think us poor people are all bad apples.” She smirks a little. “You’re rich folk too now, remember?” “Hm. Guess so.” I look at her for a second and an idea hits me. “Let’s get out of here.” She nods. “Okay. Where to?” “Come on. I’ll show you.” I stand up and she hesitates before following me. I take her hand, as natural as can be, and she doesn’t seem to mind. We head out into the night. My driver is parked not too far away, but we walk right past him. She looks at me a little hesitantly. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“Nowhere,” I say. “We’re just walking.” “Isn’t this…” She trails off, looking down at the ground. “A bad neighborhood?” I finish for her. “A little bit yes and a little bit no. You’re not more or less likely to get mugged here than you are anywhere else.” She nods a little bit. “My parents raised me to think that this place is the worst place in the world.” I laugh a little bit. “I’m not surprised. But really, most muggers are in your neighborhood. That’s where the rich people are.” She smiles a little bit. “I’m sorry if I seem so out of touch.” “It’s okay,” I say. “It’s pretty adorable, if I’m honest.” “I’d rather not be adorable.” “What do you prefer then?” I ask her. I pull her hand, tugging her into an empty storefront doorway. She stumbles up against me, hands on my chest as I lean up against the glass door. She bites her lip, looking up into my face. We’re totally alone here on the street. “I don’t know,” she says.

“I’ll tell you,” I whisper in her ear. “You want me to think you’re sexy, don’t you?” “Maybe,” she breathes. “You do,” I say. “Right now, you’re soaking wet, just thinking about what I could do to you right here and now.” “We’re in public,” she protests, surprised. “Maybe,” I say. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?” I kiss her neck softly, moving up toward her mouth. Her breathing gets fast and my heart starts to thump quickly in my chest as I press my lips against hers, kissing her deep. She kisses me back, wrapping her arms around my neck. I turn and press her up against the glass door, making her gasp slightly. She’s so fucking sexy, so goddamn gorgeous, that I can’t help myself. My hands roam her hips, feel her ass, and I have to resist the urge to pet that soaking little pussy of hers right here in the street. Slowly, I break the kiss off. “Is this why you came out with me again?” I ask her. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Liar.” I smirk a little bit. “You’re here because we

have unfinished business.” “You mean from back in the club,” she says, and bites her lip. “That’s right. You disappeared on me for a little while after that.” “I couldn’t contact you. My father took away my phone, and I know it sounds so childish, but it’s the truth.” “I understand,” I say gently. “You need someone to take care of you.” “I don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve been taken care of all my life. Maybe I just want to live.” “Maybe,” I concede. “But I don’t see why you can’t do both.” I kiss her again, this time more deeply, more passionately. My hands linger on her body and I can sense the tension between us, heavy and thick and intense. She breaks the kiss off after a moment, breathing heavily. “Gavin,” she whispers as my hands cup her ass. “I have to tell you something.” “What?” I ask her. She hesitates. “You’ll think less of me after I say

it.” “Doubtful,” I say, fingers running through her hair. She pulls back and looks in my eyes. “I’m a virgin.” I stare at her for a second, holding her hair in my fist. “You’re a virgin?” She nods once. “I’m sorry,” she says, talking fast. “I should have told you sooner. I just, I don’t know, I just never had sex, it just never happened, so now—“ I cut her off with a kiss, deep and serious. I hold her hair tight in my hand as desire floods my whole body. A fucking virgin. I had no clue. I assumed she had slept with one of her rich boyfriends, like all of her friends were no doubt doing. Instead, she’s pristine, untouched, and inexperienced. She probably thinks that’ll turn me off, but it drives me absolutely crazy instead. I want to be the man to teach her everything she needs to know. I want to be her Daddy, taking care of her, giving her everything she needs, while opening her eyes to the pleasure I can make her feel. The kiss breaks off after a slow moment. “I don’t mind one bit,” I say softly.

“Really?” she asks, eyes wide. “Really,” I confirm. “In fact, I’m having a hard time not taking you right here.” She laughs softly, relieved. “I thought you might be angry.” “Angry? Because of who you are?” I shake my head. “I like who you are.” She smiles at that. “I’m sure you’ve been with more experienced women.” “Maybe,” I say. “But I can teach you things. God damn, girl, I can show you what it means to fuck.” She bites her lip and I kiss her again, her hair in my fist. Our kiss is interrupted by a group of young guys walking down the other side of the street, acting loud and obnoxious, clearly drunk. Sadie watches them nervously and I just smile. “Come on,” I say. “Where to now?” she asks. “I should get you home.” She bites her lip. “Really?” I nod. “Really.” I show her my watch. “It’s already after one.”

Her eyes go wide. “Are you serious?” “Seriously. Those kids are probably heading to their last bar.” “Shit,” she says. “Okay. Let’s go.” I take her hand and we walk back to my car together. Fucking virgin. I can’t believe it. She’s so goddamn sexy, with a body that was built for pleasure, but clearly she’s been so repressed her whole life. She doesn’t know what it means to live. I can teach her. I can show her things she has no clue about. I’m going to take her virginity and dirty up her clean little body, push her boundaries, make a little whore out of her. I’ll turn this virgin dirty, and she’s going to thank me for it. First, I have to get past her family. As we walk, I replay the encounter with Silas again, wondering if he’s watching us. Fuck him, I hope he’s watching. Let those Tillman bastards know. I don’t want to get Sadie in trouble, of course, but I’m not afraid of them. We need to play this carefully, but I trust Sadie. I assume she’s taking precautions and being careful. Her parents are going to catch us sooner or later, and that Silas bastard is going to come back, but I just hope it’s

not for a while. I need more time with Sadie. I need lots and lots of time to get to know her nice and properly. We get back to my car and get in. The driver heads back to her apartment. We chat some more about the neighborhood, though she seems distracted the whole time. The driver stops in the same place we picked her up earlier. She leans toward me, and I grab her, pulling her over to me. She smiles and gasps a little as I put her in my lap and kiss her deeply. “I want to see you again soon,” I say. “I can’t be impatient again.” “Okay,” she agrees. “We can do that.” “Good.” I kiss her neck gently. “You know that I can take care of you, right?” “I know,” she says. “Just say the word. Whatever you need. All you have to do is call me Daddy.” She bites her lip, looking in my eyes. “I’m afraid,” she says. “You don’t need to be.” I kiss her one more time. “First though, we’ll need to teach you some

things.” “Like what?” she asks. “Next time,” I say, gently moving her from my lap. “Get back home. Don’t get caught.” She nods a little, lingering. “When can I see you again?” “Soon,” I say. “Good.” She gives me one last kiss before getting out of the car. I can barely stay calm as the driver takes me home. This night has been fucking incredibly, absolutely amazing. I had no clue she was a virgin, but that makes this so much better. I wanted Sadie before, flaws and all, and I still do. But now I get to teach her to feel things, to really fuck, to use that body the way she needs to. She’s going to be mine to train into the perfect little fuck doll, and I can barely fucking wait.

10

SADIE

L

uck was with me that night. When I got home, the staff was gone and my family was either in bed or not home. Which means I was able to slip back into my room without anyone even noticing that I was gone. That’s the best part of being the youngest daughter in a family that clearly doesn’t value women. They don’t notice when I’m there, and apparently they don’t notice when I’m gone either. I collapse in my bed, feeling so good and excited. The night had melted by and it was an incredible success, or at least I thought so. I was scared as hell to tell Gavin about being a virgin, but he didn’t seem to mind. That intrigues me even more, if I’m honest. I

assumed that a man with his reputation would want a woman with more experience, not some dopey virgin like me. But apparently that didn’t change his mind one bit, and if anything, he seemed even more excited after I told him than before. He seems to actually want me for me, not for my money or my family. And he’s clearly willing to let me come into his world, or at least as much as I want to. I met his best friend, drank in a bar he frequents, and heard some pretty funny childhood stories. Those stories painted a picture of a man much more complex than he lets on. His reputation suggests that he’s a relatively simple man who lives for pleasures, but that’s clearly not true. He’s smart and has real hobbies, like collecting old cars and stereo equipment. He has friends that go back years with stories about him from when he was a kid. That’s such a big deal, since it means that he’s capable of keeping a relationship alive for a long period of time. So few friendships survive through life, and the ones that do are special and important. After all of my friends left for college, and so many of them just stopped contacting me entirely, I can see how special it is that he’s kept a friend from high school for so long. People are fickle, but loyalty is

attractive and something I want from a man. I fall asleep thinking about the way he kissed me on the street. Nobody has ever kissed me like that before, or even treated me like that. I’ve always been seen as this rich little girl, this special flower that can’t be disturbed too much. I’ve always been treated so gently, and sometimes with a little fear, because people are worried about my family. It’s different with Gavin. He doesn’t care about my family. In fact, he wants me despite them, and that’s so attractive it’s hard to explain. The next morning, things seem fine. I stop in the dining room to grab a quick breakfast, and nobody looks at me twice. As far as my family can tell, I’ve been a good, obedient daughter. They probably don’t know that I snuck out last night. That excites me more than I thought it would. I retreat back to my room, grab a shower, and think about the implications. Last time, I got caught because I asked permission to go for a walk. When I didn’t come back, my father must have sent Reginald out to get me. I don’t know how he tracked me down, but he did. This time though, I just left the apartment without saying a word, keeping my door shut. Everyone probably assumed I was holed up in my closet,

reading a book or something. That’s not a bad assumption to make, or at least it wasn’t. But I can use that. I can sneak out of here whenever I want. I’m practically invisible to them, and for the first time in my life, that seems like a good thing. I get back to my room after showering and sit down on my bed pretzel-style. Still wrapped in my towel, I grab my phone and my laptop. I’m surprised when I see a text on my phone. It’s from Gavin. “I keep thinking about last night,” he says. I smile to myself and type back. “Me too. I really had a lot of fun.” He responds immediately. “Do you still have that gift I sent you?” I bite my lip as a thrill runs through me. “Yes,” I send back. “Good. Go get it.” I stare at the screen for a second, and suddenly I’m nervous. But I do as he asks me. I go into my closet and fish the vibrator out from where I had stashed it.

“Okay,” I type back. “I have it. Now what?” “Last night, you told me something,” he writes. “You said that you’re a virgin. And I think you were nervous about it.” “I was,” I send back. “I thought you wanted someone with more experience.” “I don’t care about that,” he replies. “But I’m going to teach you, Sadie. You may not have experience now, but you will soon.” I bite my lip, excitement running through my body, and I glance down at the vibrator. I feel a little intimidated, but excitement floods my body at the thought of his hands on my skin. I quickly get up, still wrapped in only a towel, and I head over to my bedroom door. I make sure it’s locked before getting back into bed. “How are you going to teach me?” I ask him. “Skype me. [email protected].” I stare at his message, heart hammering in my chest, and I know what he wants. I’m nervous, maybe even a little afraid, but I can’t help myself. I quickly get up, dropping the towel, and grab a plain white t-shirt, a little see-through, and a pair of cute panties. When I’m slightly dressed, I hesitate before pulling on a pair of long knee-high socks. I

finally fix my hair in the mirror, pulling it into a braid, despite it being wet. Finally, I grab my laptop and the vibrator and head into my closet. I shut the door and turn on the light before settling into my little nook. I put the laptop down, open the lid, and bring up Skype. I’m nervous when I type in his email and start the call, but he answers right away. Gavin’s handsome face appears on the screen, smiling at me, a little morning stubble along his chin. “It’s good to see you,” he says. I smile. “Yeah, you too. Nice apartment.” He grins at me. “Nice… closet?” He cocks his head a little bit. I laugh and pick up the laptop, showing him the space. “Yep, it’s a closet. It’s a little more… comfortable than my room.” “Looks cozy.” “Where are you?” I ask him. “In my living room.” He picks up his laptop and shows me his place. I got a quick view of a large wall that’s all windows and overlooks the city. I see the kitchen, which is all spacious and modern, before coming back to him. His apartment is nicely

decorated though simple, which doesn’t surprise me. I bet he had someone come in and set it up for him, and hasn’t changed a thing since. He’s shirtless, and I’m surprised to catch some tattoos on his skin. He watches me with amusement for a second. “Nice,” I say. “You’ll see it for real soon. If you want.” I nod quickly. “Yeah. I’d like that.” I feel really nervous, I realize, way more nervous than when we went out together. “Do you know why we’re Skyping right now?” he asks me softly. I nod slowly. “I think so.” “Tell me why.” “You want to teach me.” “That’s right.” He smirks at me. “And I want to watch. Make sure you’re doing exactly what I tell you.” “Okay,” I say, leaning back. “What do you want me to do?” “First, close your eyes.” He waits a second. “Go

ahead, really close them.” I smile and close them. “Okay,” I say. “I want you to picture us together, alone, maybe alone in this little spot of yours. You’re dressed the way you are right now, and you look so fucking sexy. I can barely keep my hands off you.” “What are we doing here?” I ask him softly, already feeling the excitement. “Hiding,” he says. “We’re hiding from your family. But not in a bad way. You took me into your closet because you wanted privacy.” He pauses for a second and I let that sink in, amplifying my desire. “Imagine the way I kiss you,” he continues. “Imagine me pressing you against that wall, taking your wrists and pinning them up against the wall. Imagine my lips lingering along your skin as I press you there, holding you tight, kissing you, slowly moving my palms down the length of your curves. How do you feel?” “Excited,” I whisper, seeing it in my mind. I’m dripping wet, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t actually say those words. It’s too dirty. “Good,” he says. “I kiss your lips and your neck before my hands move down to your breasts, teasing them, teasing your nipples. One hand

remains on your breast while the other slowly sinks down to your panties.” I bite my lip, breathing faster and deeper as he speaks. I can practically feel the graze of his rough fingers over my soft skin as he speaks to me in his deep and sexy voice. “Now, Sadie, I want you to take your hand and do what I’d do.” I open my eyes, a little surprised. “You what?” “Close your eyes,” he chides. “Go ahead. Close them.” I bite my lip and do as he says. “Now, take your right hand and slide it down the front of your panties.” He pauses and for a second, I’m not sure if I can do it. But the image in my mind of his fingers down between my legs pushes me onwards. I do as he says, slowly sliding my hand down the front of my panties. “You’re dripping wet,” he says. I let out a soft, surprised moan. “I knew it,” he continues. “I knew you’d be soaked. You’re so desperate for my touch, you absolutely crave it, and you’re finally getting it. Now, slowly and gently, rub that nice little clit of

yours.” I do as he says. I’ve gotten myself off before in the past, so I know what I like, but I’ve never, ever, ever touched myself in front of someone else. I’ve never done anything like this. And it’s so fucking exciting. Instantly pleasure rolls through me and I keep my eyes shut tight, afraid that if I open them, I’ll get too nervous. “My fingers down between your legs,” he says, almost a whisper, chills running down my spine. “I kiss your neck and bite your lower lip as I rub your clit in circles. Over and over, softly then harder, responding to your every moan and move.” I touch myself as he speaks, seeing this in my mind. I can feel his hard body against mine, his muscles tough and intense as I touch myself. I can hardly believe that I’m doing this, but it’s way too exciting to stop. And it feels good. I can’t deny that. It feels so damn good. “I slide my fingers down to your pussy and press them slowly inside of you. God damn girl, you’re so fucking tight, and I love how warm and slick you are. My cock is so hard as I kiss you, my tongue in your mouth, my fingers deep inside of your pussy.”

I do as he says, pressing my fingers inside of myself. I can’t believe how good it feels. My fingers are smaller than his, so I can only imagine what that would be like. And his cock is bigger than either of our fingers. He’ll tear me to pieces when I let him fuck me, and as I sink my fingers deep inside of myself while he speaks to me, I can’t wait for it. Moans escape my lips as he watches. I fuck myself with my fingers, slowly at first. “Not too fast,” he whispers. “I want to make this last. I press them deep in and out, teasing you, before pulling them back and working your clit again.” I follow his directions, word for word, feeling myself. “That’s right. I roll back and press them inside, good girl, just like that.” “Oh shit, Gavin,” I whisper. Pleasure floods through me. I know he’s watching me, actually watching me touch myself. It’s so dirty that I’m doing it for him. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do something like this, like my nerves would stop me. But as soon as he started talking to me, and I actually touched my body to his voice, my nerves

instantly dissolved. I don’t feel self-conscious anymore as I run my fingers inside of myself, fucking my own pussy while Gavin watches me. I can’t believe how good it feels. I’ve touched myself before, of course, but never like this, never with a man talking to me and watching. That just makes it so much hotter. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this for him, but pleasure rocks through me and I know I can’t stop. “God damn, girl,” Gavin says. “Do you know how sexy you are, moaning like that? You like my fingers deep in that wet little cunt, don’t you?” I gasp a little. He’s so dirty. “Gavin,” I moan. “Don’t.” “Don’t?” He smirks at me. “You mean, don’t say cunt? I think you like it. You want me to be dirty. You’ve been too good for too long, now it’s time to be bad for your Daddy.” I groan, fingers rubbing myself faster. “Take off your panties,” he says. “Now. I want to see that dripping wet pussy.” I obey him, sliding them off. I spread my legs, even though I’m a little self-conscious. “Fucking hell,” he says. “You’re goddamn perfect.

I want to tongue that little pussy until you scream. Pick up that vibrator.” I do as he commands, heart hammering. “I’ve never used one of these before.” He smirks a little bit. “Good. You’re in for a treat. Turn it on.” I hit the button and it starts to vibrate. I giggle a little bit. “It’s funny, but you’ll like it,” he says. “Close your eyes now.” I do as I’m told, leaning back and settling in again. “Now, take the vibrator, and gently roll it along your clit. Gently at first.” I do it, and gasp as pleasure floods me. “Holy shit,” I say. “Imagine that’s my tongue and lips, sucking your clit while my fingers fuck you,” he says, his voice deep and sure of itself. I moan, head tossed back as I work myself with the vibrator. “Just as you get close, I’ll grab your hips and turn you around, spread your legs wide. You want to spread wide for me?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I moan. “Yes, what?” “Yes, Daddy,” I say, and desire floods through me. “That’s a good girl. Now work that pussy. I’m going to spread those legs wide and slide my thick cock deep inside of you. I don’t think you can handle it at first, but we’ll work you nice and slow, get you good and wet.” I roll the vibrator along my clit then slide it down to press inside of myself. It feels so good as I roll it up and down my pussy, inside and back to my clit. I can hear his voice but it’s getting lost in the pleasure as I get nearer and nearer to an orgasm. I can feel it building inside of me. The vibrator is almost too intense. “When you’re ready, I’ll fuck you deep and hard. I can fill your little pussy up to the brim, stretch you out, rip you apart. I’ll fuck you rough and slap your ass, make it hurt a little bit, make you beg for it.” I’m so wet, so dripping wet, and I need him. I need Gavin so badly I can barely think. The vibrator feels good, but I want his hands, his mouth, his skin against me. I can’t stop though, not with his voice pushing me further. “I’ll pull that hair and fuck your cunt deep and

hard. Do you want to come on Daddy’s big fat cock?” he asks me. “Yes,” I moan. “God, I want to come.” “Go ahead,” he says, low and sultry. “Go ahead and come for Daddy.” “Oh fuck,” I groan, and I know I can’t stop myself. The vibrator pushes me over the edge as I come nice and hard. Gavin watches, but I don’t care about that. In fact, as soon as I start to come, I open my eyes and look at him. I want to watch him watching me. I like that I’m seen, I like that this is so dirty. It’s filthy and dirty and god it feels good, so fucking good. I shouldn’t be doing this but that only makes me want it more. I come hard while Gavin watches. He smiles at me as I slowly finish. I turn off the vibrator, the intensity too much for me, and set it aside. “Good,” he says. “Very good.” “I need to see you,” I say, panting, buzzing with pleasure. He smiles at me. “I know you do.” “When?” “Tomorrow,” he says. “Same time, same place?”

I nod my head. “Yes, please.” “Good. Practice with that before you see me tomorrow. I want you ready.” “I will be.” I pause, before adding, “Daddy.” He grunts his approval. “Go get some rest,” he says. “I’m going to make you feel good tomorrow.” “I can’t wait,” I say softly. “Talk later?” “Sure.” I blow him a kiss. He grins and then disconnects. I watch the screen for a second before collapsing back against the pillow, hugging my knees up to my chest. I can’t believe that just happened. I just got myself off on camera in front of Gavin while he talked to me. I guess that was like long distance sex or something. It was dirty and he has such a filthy mouth, but I really, really liked it. I want more, actually. I want a lot more. I want him to do everything he said he’d do and more. I want to feel his big cock between my legs and let him lick my pussy until I scream. I need him to teach me. He’s my Daddy and I need him to make me feel good.

11

GAVIN

I

keep thinking about Sadie getting herself off for me. She seems so innocent and good, but there’s a dirty freak locked deep inside of her, begging to get out. She just needs a man to teach her. When she calls me Daddy, my fucking cock gets so hard I can barely breathe, and I need more of that. I want to feel her pretty lips wrapped around my tip, feel her saliva sliding down my skin as she sucks me. I want to taste her and feel that tight virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. I can barely concentrate when I finally decide to go into the office. All that day I’m distracted. We text back and forth, mostly just talking about nothing. I ask about her life, getting to know her, and it feels

good. I feel excited, giddy almost. It’s absolutely strange to feel like I’m getting this deeply involved with a woman so much younger than me, especially one that I shouldn’t have anything to do with. But Sadie is clearly more than just a spoiled little rich girl. She’s gorgeous, of course, and fascinating. And I can’t help but like the fact that she’s a virgin and wants to give herself to me. It’s more than that. I like talking to her, like getting to know her. I actually enjoy finding out what makes her happy, what makes her sad, and generally what makes her an interesting person. And I like telling her about myself. I never expected to have a secret relationship with a girl her age, but here I am. I can’t exactly stop it. I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. She makes me feel too damn good to stop. Finally, the next night arrives. Instead of taking the town car like usual, I decide to drive myself. I take one of my old classic cars, a black Mustang from the ‘70s. As I pull up in the usual spot, I don’t feel nervous. I feel only excited. She’s standing underneath the light again. She’s wearing a short skirt and a light gray blouse open at the top two buttons, showing off just enough of her breasts. I roll down the passenger side window and

grin at her. “Need a ride?” I ask. She laughs and leans down. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive.” “I may be a city boy, but I can do things.” “You’re a rich city boy, at that.” “Get in here before people think you’re a hooker.” I grin at her. She blushes. “Gavin!” “What? You think there aren’t hookers in this city?” She grumbles a little and climbs in. “Nobody’s going to think I’m a hooker.” “A very, very high-class hooker,” I say to her. “Of course.” She nods. “That’s better.” I grin and roll up the window before pulling out into traffic. “So, where do you want to go?” She raises an eyebrow. “No plan this time?” “None,” I say. “I decided it’d be more fun that way.”

She smiles and leans back in her seat. “Okay then. How about you give me a little driving tour?” I grin at her. “I guess you are new to the city.” She laughs. “Lived here most of my life.” “What about when you were at boarding school?” “Good point.” She shrugs a little. “I still think of this place as home.” “I get that,” I say. “Even if you’re not at a place all the time, it can still be home.” “Exactly,” she says. “This city, I don’t know. It’s in my family’s blood.” “I thought you didn’t buy into that family stuff.” She gives me a look. “I don’t, but I can’t deny who I am.” “Good point.” “And there are parts of my family that I like. We have breakfast together every morning, did I tell you that?” I grin at her. “I didn’t know that. Very cute.” “I guess it’s cute. It was better when I was a little girl. It’s strained now.”

“Strained how?” She shakes her head. “Father and mother aren’t exactly in love anymore. And Peter is the only person that I get along with.” “You’ve talked about him before,” I say. “That’s really good. I wish I had a sibling.” “Maybe,” she says. “Except you could end up with one like Michael, and he’s the worst.” I nod knowingly. “Good point. He is the worst.” She laughs and I turn down along a backstreet. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t really care. We keep chatting as I drive around aimlessly. The streets are mostly empty, but I drive slow anyway, mostly just to enjoy the city. We pass a few parks, groups of kids out late drinking too much, homeless people, even a family of four with an exhausted toddler hanging off the father’s arm. Sadie talks more about her family, about growing up in boarding school, about being raised by nannies. It’s such a foreign world to me. I was raised by my mother and my father, both working class people. Dad drank too much and Mom constantly gave him shit for it, but that never changed. They both smoked, which seemed normal back then, but I realized now that they both

smoked way too much. Dad died of heart disease ten years ago, and Mom died of cancer five years after that. There’s one thing I’m thankful for. Although my parents couldn’t afford to send me to school, I still made it anyway. I made something of myself, and they saw that, at least a little bit toward the end. I don’t know what it would be like to grow up in a family like Sadie’s. I’d be a different man, I’m sure, maybe someone like Peter or like Michael. It’s amazing how much of you is created by chance, by the people you’re born to. Most of what you are is absolute luck, and not at all earned. I know that and so does Sadie. I was lucky to be born smart, and she was lucky to be born rich. “I have an idea,” I say to her suddenly. “A spot we can go see.” “Take me there,” she says, grinning. I pull a U-turn and head out west. Along the edge of the city runs a river, pretty dirty, but there are still some fish in it. I park my car in a mostly empty lot and we get out, waking toward the river. Ahead, there’s the start of a black wrought-iron staircase that descends down suddenly toward the water, down below the sidewalk.

“Come on,” I say to her, stepping onto the stairs. “Down here.” She frowns. “That can’t be safe.” I bounce up and down hard on the stairs. They flex a little bit, which actually does make me nervous. “It’s totally fine,” I say. “Yeah, okay,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.” “That’s my girl.” I grin at her and we head down. I glance back up at her and catch a glimpse of her panties under her short skirt. She catches me looking but doesn’t do anything to stop me. We get to the bottom of the stairs and step out onto a small walkway. There are some trees planted here, a couple benches, and a beautiful view of the river. I step up to the edge and look out. She joins me, wrapping her arms through mine. “Wow,” she says. “I didn’t know this was here.” “Been here as long as I can remember. I went fishing here with my dad once or twice when I was a kid.” She squeezes my hand and we stand there for a second in silence, looking out over the water. I can’t help but wonder how I got to this moment.

A gorgeous, beautiful rich girl on my arm, much younger than me, and a virgin. She wants me to teach her, to show her how to fuck, to use that beautiful body of hers. I feel lucky, but also I know she’s just as lucky. Because she gets me to be her Daddy. There are a lot of shitty assholes in this city, and a lot of them run in her circle. The rich may be rich, but they’re also people, and people tend to be assholes. I like to think I’m not an asshole, or at least not a bad asshole. I squeeze her hand. “Come on,” I say to her. “Where to now?” “Back to my car.” I don’t elaborate. I suddenly feel flushed as I pull her back toward the stairs and we climb back up. The lot is empty and there’s nobody around at all as we get to the car. I grab her hips and press her up against the passenger side. She smiles a little. “We could have done this down there,” she says. “No,” I say softly. “Not what I want to do right now.” She looks a little surprised and I kiss her deeply. I love her taste, the way she kisses me back with little moans, her tongue so soft against mine. It

drives me fucking crazy to explore her body. My hands move along her hips and slide down underneath her skirt. I run my hand along her inner thigh until I get to her pussy. I can’t help but smirk when I feel it, wet already. “You were thinking the same thing as me,” I whisper in her ear. “What’s that?” she asks softly. I slip my hand underneath her panties. I find her wet, swollen clit, and start to gently rub. “You were thinking about the other day. About what I said I want to do to you.” “Tell me again,” she whispers. I rub her clit slowly. “I want to slide my thick fingers into this little pussy. I want to suck your clit and tongue your cunt until you scream my name and come in my mouth.” “Oh shit,” she moans softly. I smirk, sliding my fingers down, and press them deep inside of her. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for a long time,” I say. “Ever since I first saw you. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” I reach behind her and open the car door. She’s surprised when I pull it open. I push her down onto

the passenger seat then drop down to my knees in front of her. I spread her legs wide and reach up under her skirt. “Gavin,” she says. “Somebody might see us.” I grin. “Nobody is here. And we both know you don’t mind that.” I slide her panties off and toss them aside. “Gavin!” she says. I reach up and take her hair, tipping her head back. “No more complaining,” I say. “You just let me lick this little pussy until you can’t stop yourself from coming.” She bites her lip and I spread her legs wide, hiking her skirt up. I kiss up her inner thigh before my tongue finds her clit. She groans, tossing her head back as I start to suck and lick her swollen little spot. I love her taste, her delicious little taste, as my tongue and teeth and lips do their work. I’ve never been so goddamn hard before in my life, but just the taste of her wet, pink little pussy drives me absolutely crazy inside. Her moans fill my head and drive me forward as I slide two fingers deep inside of her.

“You’re delicious,” I say. “Goddamn delicious. I’ve been dreaming of a pussy like this my whole life.” I reach up, fingers buried inside of her. I pull her toward me and kiss her deep on the mouth. She doesn’t shy away from her own taste that’s still on my tongue. I pull back and drop down between her legs. She braces herself as I fuck her pussy with my fingers, sucking and licking her clit. I want to fuck her right now, sink my cock deep inside of her, but she’s not ready for that. I want to get her off first, make her come, make her know what I can do to her. I love the way she moans, like with her whole body. She shudders and writhes as I suck and lick and finger-fuck her cunt. I’m not holding back at all, not easing her into this. I want it to be hot and dirty and fast, something she’s never experienced before. “Oh god, Gavin,” she moans. “That feels too good. Oh shit, I don’t know, I don’t know if I can take it.” “You can take it,” I say, fingers sliding in and out of her. “Go ahead, take it, you dirty fucking girl. Call me Daddy while you come.” I go back down, sucking her clit, licking it. She grabs the back of my head, pressing me down harder as I continue to do my work. She’s clearly not letting up as I push her further, licking her

harder and faster, getting dirty, her pussy dripping wet. Her hips move in rhythm with my mouth and I know she’s close. She can’t stay quiet. She’s not holding back. Any thoughts she had about being in public are obviously gone now. I watch her face, and I know she’s close. I suck and lick her faster, moving faster, fingers buried inside of her. “Oh shit,” she says, and her whole body tenses. I know she’s coming, and I don’t stop. Her orgasm tastes incredible as it rushes through her body. She comes with every muscle, tensed and relaxed and tensed again, and I can see the pleasure on her face. She lets out one low groan, deep and intense. I don’t let up and I don’t hold back, making her orgasm as intense as possible. Slowly, she finishes. I slide my fingers out of her and clean them off with my mouth, savoring her. She watches me with a mixture of shock, desire, and pure bliss. I smile at her then help her shift into the car so that I can shut the door. I close it when she’s ready, then walk around to the driver’s side. She looks at me. “That was amazing,” she says. I smirk at her. “Good. You have a lot to learn. But I

can tell you’re eager.” She blushes. “I guess so.” I put my hand on her thigh. “Come on. Let’s get you home.” She bites her lip. “Really?” “We don’t want you to get in trouble. Besides, that’s enough for tonight.” I start the engine and begin to pull away. “Wait, my panties.” I grin at her. “Leave them there.” “I can’t go around in a skirt without panties!” “I want you to,” I say. She blushes even deeper. “Yes, Daddy.” I groan a little. “You’re learning so fast.” We head back to her place. I stop at the usual spot and pull her against me, kissing her full and deep. It takes all my willpower to pull away. “I’ll see you again soon,” I whisper. “Yeah. Soon.” She kisses me one last time. I watch her climb out and walk away. Her taste lingers on my lips as I drive home, though I follow

her at a discreet distance to make sure she gets inside safely first. Once I’m home, I get into my apartment, and my phone suddenly buzzes. I pull it out and it’s a picture from Sadie. I pull it open and can’t help but groan. It’s a picture of her ass with the skirt hiked up in her bathroom mirror, no panties on. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to fuck this girl and soon.

12

SADIE

A

fter Gavin drops me off back home, I still feel like I’m flying high.

That was such a good date. Not just because of what happened at the end, although that of course is still very much on my mind. But the whole thing was easy and fun. He showed me a part of the city that I never saw before, and I feel like I’m really getting to know him. I never expected Gavin to open up to me the way he has been. From what I know about him, which I have to admit isn’t a whole lot, he doesn’t seem like the type of man to really want to talk about himself and his past. We come from such different worlds, and the more I learn about him, the more I’m impressed with him.

And of course, there’s that moment back in the car. I never thought I’d let someone go down on me like that, let alone right out in the open where anyone could see. But it was so freaking hot, so incredible, that even as I head up to my apartment, I’m still floating from it. Gavin is everything that he’s been promising and probably more. He already made me feel something I never expected, and that’s only the start. I got a taste of what he can do to my body, and I already know that I need more, and badly. I get upstairs, smiling to myself, and slowly open up the front door. I shut it quietly behind me, trying to stay as silent as possible. The apartment is really big, and the bedrooms are far from the front entrance, but it’s possible that someone’s still awake. I don’t want to get caught. I creep down the hall toward the stairs that lead up to the second floor and all the bedrooms. I’m a little nervous, though still happy. As I get near the staircase, a sound suddenly stops me short. I turn and my older brother Michael is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning at me. “Are you just getting home?” he asks me. I pause, not sure what to do. “No,” I say, shaking

my head. “I just went for a walk around the building.” His frown deepens. “I didn’t hear you leave and I’ve been down here for an hour.” Shit. What the hell is he doing? I’ve never been close with Michael, not even when we were kids. Maybe it’s because he’s four years older than I am, or maybe it’s because I’ve always preferred Peter. Or maybe it’s just because Michael is a lot like my father. He shares all those values and doesn’t seem to question anything about our family. Michael is the ideal son, at least according to my father, and that’s bad news for me. I know he believes that if my parents think I should be married off to Milo then I should just do it, because that’s what’s best for me and for the family. “I guess you weren’t listening,” I say, and turn to head upstairs. “Wait,” he says, coming toward me. “Hold on.” “What?” I ask him, heart hammering in my chest. “Are you wearing makeup?” I laugh a little bit, nervous and afraid. “I always wear makeup.” “No, you don’t,” he says, watching me quietly.

“Where are you coming from, Sadie?” He knows. I can see it in his eyes. He put it together already, but he wants me to admit to it. He wants me to come out and say it. “I was out,” I say softly. “And it’s none of your business.” He shakes his head. “Father will be angry if you were with that Gavin man.” “Why do you even care?” I ask him. “Because I’m worried about you.” That catches me off guard. I expected him to say something about duty to the family and upholding the family honor, but his response is totally not what I thought. He looks sincere as well. “Don’t be,” I say to him. “That man is a lot older than you,” he continues. “And he has a bad reputation. Sadie, I know we haven’t always been close, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I’m okay,” I say to him softly. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Michael, of all people. I always thought he only cared about me because he had to, but this seems like genuine concern.

“Just be careful,” he says. “There’s a reason father doesn’t want you with this man.” “Don’t worry about me,” I say to Michael. “I’m being careful.” “Okay.” He shakes his head. “Mom and Dad are asleep, so just be quiet.” I nod to him gratefully and hurry upstairs, not wanting to push my luck. I partly expected him to start yelling, but that concern was totally unexpected. I feel incredibly fortunate and grateful as I get into my bedroom and shut the door, forgetting about Michael almost as soon as the lock clicks into place. I should get to bed, but there’s one last thing I want to do. I head into my bathroom and take a picture for Gavin, something sexy, something I’ve never done before. I’m smiling to myself as I hit send, all concern and worry completely gone.

THE NEXT MORNING , I wake up from a single text from Gavin. “Good morning. I’ve been looking at your picture all night. I need to see you again.”

I smile to myself and respond. “Soon,” I type, and hit send. I toss my phone aside then get up and get ready for the day. I leave my phone behind when I head downstairs for breakfast. I’m feeling good, totally sure that I didn’t get caught. Mom and Dad were asleep and so they never heard me come in. But as soon as I walk into the dining room, I know something is wrong. Mother and Peter aren’t there. Michael looks up at me with a frown then glances at father. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Michael says. My father nods. “Thank you, son.” Michael gets up and walks toward the door. When he’s on his way out, he pauses and looks at me. “This is for your own good,” he says softly, and then leaves. Terror rings through me. I look at father and I know. Michael freaking told on me. I can’t believe it. That’s the most childish and awful thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I was starting to think that he was a real older brother and I totally misunderstood him, but clearly I’ve been right all

along. He only cares about the family and about doing what father tells him to do. “Let me explain,” I say, but he stands. “No, let me explain.” His eyes are cold and angry. “You’re forbidden from leaving this apartment. You’re forbidden from seeing that man ever again. You may not communicate with him. You may not do anything that I don’t approve of. Do you understand?” I stare back at him and I have to hold back my tears. I’m so freaking angry I could scream. I don’t want to cry because I’m sad, I want to cry because it’s taking so much effort not to scream at him. I’m not a little girl. I’m not some child that he can push around. I’m an adult, and I need to start acting like one. I nod my head once. “Whatever you say, father,” I respond, practically spitting the words at him. “Good.” He sits back down. “You’re dismissed.” I stand there for a second, staring at him. “One day, you’ll realize that I’m not a child anymore,” I say softly. “Unfortunately, you are still a child, and you will behave.” Father looks down at his paper. “Go back

to your room. I’m finished with you.” I stare at him, shaking with rage, but I turn and leave. I don’t want to scream at him, because I know it’ll only make things worse. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Michael is a traitor, an asshole, and a bastard. Father is going to crack down on me harder, probably get some staff members to spy on me or something. I bet he’ll turn off my WiFi or change the password or something like that. And I’m sure Thomas is already taking away my phone. I’m not letting this stop me. Maybe I can’t do anything about it right now, but I’ll figure it out. I’m smart and a grown ass woman, and I need to get the hell out of this house. If I want to see Gavin, I’m going to see Gavin. I won’t be used as some political piece by my family, and I won’t be treated like a little child. I take a deep breath, steady myself, and then begin to plan.

13

GAVIN

I

don’t hear from Sadie for a week.

At first, I figure it’s just because she’s busy, or maybe because her family is pressuring her to stop seeing me. But her phone goes straight to voicemail and my messages are ignored. I try writing her, and I even send her another present, this time a box with a new computer inside of it, but everything is ignored. There’s no reply. She never comes back on Skype, and she never answers any of my written letters. I don’t know what the fuck to think. “Seems pretty obvious to me,” Chuck says. We’re out to lunch exactly one week after I last saw Sadie.

“I’m sure it does,” I grunt at him. “She got sick of looking at your ugly face.” I sigh, shaking my head. “Too soon.” Chuck frowns, sipping his whisky. “Damn. I’ve never seen you like this before.” “Like how?” I ask. “Acting like a heartbroken little girl.” He grins at me. I glare at him. “I’m not fucking heartbroken. I just don’t understand.” “I don’t know, it seems obvious to me. The girl’s family hates you with a passion. And she’s clearly being controlled by them.” “Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “The fucking Tillmans.” “That’s right. The fucking Tillmans.” I sip my beer, not in the mood to be out right now, but Chuck insisted. I’ve been moping around too much, or at least according to him I have been. I’m not fucking moping. I don’t mope. I just want to understand why Sadie disappeared after sending me that text in the morning, just a single word. The

night before was so damn good, and things felt really perfect, and then she suddenly just disappears on me like a ghost. “You have to admit,” Chuck says. “There’s a little irony in this.” “Guess I don’t see it.” “I mean, you’ve done this to plenty of girls.” I can’t help but grin a little bit. “No way. I’m more tactful.” “More tactful?” Chuck laughs, shaking his head. “Remember that Slovenian model you were dating for a little while?” “Oh yeah,” I say, grinning back at him. “What was her name?” “Who cares? She was hot as fuck. But when she wanted you to meet her family back in her country, what did you do?” “Shit,” I say. “It’s not like that.” “You didn’t call her again. Cut off all contact. You ghosted her ass so fast.” “She was asking me for money,” I say, but Chuck isn’t having it. In my defense, that is true. She was asking for a loan so she could start her own

modeling company. Plus, she was something of a head case. I definitely ghosted her, but for good reason. I was afraid she’d try and stab me. “You’ve done this to countless women,” Chuck says. “Not just one crazy model.” “They all know the score,” I say. “They know they get one night and that’s it. I thought it was different with Sadie.” “Maybe,” he says, a little softer. “Maybe it was supposed to be that way. But look man, she’s not answering you anymore. She’s gone. Let it go.” I glance down at my drink, not sure what to say. I can’t accept that. I’m not some heartbroken little puppy dog blubbering into his beer, but I’m not just going to roll over and die either. Chuck thinks I’m moping, but the truth is, I’m trying to figure out my next move. Clearly, I’m not getting anywhere trying to contact her through traditional methods. I’m betting her family has her on lockdown. My current theory is that she got caught coming home that night, but didn’t know it until the next morning, after she texted me. That’s when she disappeared. Her family hates me so much that maybe they sent her away, out to a convent or some shit like that. The

Tillmans have enough money to make their daughter disappear. Which is actually terrifying. But fortunately, I have enough money to make her reappear, I just have to figure out how. Chuck thinks that’s a bad idea. He thinks I should just swallow my own medicine and move on. But he never really thought this thing was a good idea to begin with. He’s afraid of the Tillman family, and for good reason. They practically own this city, or at least have politicians in their pocket. If they wanted to go after my business, they absolutely could. Their businesses are strong and deep, and they have a lot of ties in the community. They could hurt me if they really wanted to. I just can’t worry about that stuff. I’ve been through so much in my life that I can’t imagine letting some rich assholes push me around. Besides, I know Sadie wants me, it’s her piece of shit family that’s holding everything back. “I get where you’re coming from,” I say to him eventually. “I really do. Maybe from your perspective, she’s not worth all this.” I pause and then look up at him. “But man, when was the last time you saw me give a shit?”

He looks at me, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know,” he admits finally. “I haven’t given a shit about much of anything in a while. Business is booming and I have pretty much no problems.” I shake my head slowly. “And yet, I haven’t been happy.” “I’ve noticed that,” Chuck admits. “Women, money, it all comes easily to me. But Sadie, she’s different. I don’t know what it is, but I feel something around her.” “But she’s gone,” Chuck says, still frowning. “Maybe,” I admit. “But if she’s worth all this, at least to me, shouldn’t I pursue it?” He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. For me, it’s not worth any of this, but what do I know? I’m just a single asshole.” I grin at him. “You’re definitely an asshole. I’m just saying, I can’t give up so easily.” “All right. If that’s what you want, obviously I got your back.” “I appreciate that.” “Now, let’s talk about something that’s not so fucking boring,” he says, a big grin on his face.

I agree, and we change the subject easily. We have a decent lunch, Chuck grabs the check, and I decide to head back home. I keep thinking about Sadie as my driver drops me off at my apartment. Once inside, I check my messages and my email, but there’s nothing from her of course. I need to figure out what to do about this. So far, the only thing I can think of is to hire a private investigator and have him track her down. Maybe that way, he can get a message to her in a way that I can’t. But I don’t know any PIs, and I’m not sure there are many that will be willing to go up against the Tillman family. I’m sure if there’s a PI out there worth his salt, he’ll know all about the Tillmans and be smart enough to stay away. Still, I have to try, and so I end up spending the next couple hours making phone calls, trying to track down someone who’s willing to help out. I almost don’t hear the knock at my door. I’m so consumed with finding a PI that I nearly totally ignore the knock. Only when it comes a second time do I finally snap out of my trance and quickly head to my front door.

I pause for a second before opening it. I don’t know who to expect, but I’m tired and impatient. It’s probably just the doorman with my packages or something. I don’t expect to see Sadie standing on my doorstep, looking out of breath. “Hey,” she says. I stare at her. “Sadie.” She smiles. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.” “It’s okay.” I step aside. “Come inside.” “Okay. Just for a minute.” She steps into my hallway and I shut the door behind her. She looks gorgeous, so goddamn attractive, just like I remembered. “Where have you been?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear. It’s just, I got caught after the last time I saw you.” Of course. I step toward her and take her hips, pulling her against me. She wraps her arms around my neck and I kiss her deeply, feeling so fucking relieved. Some part of me did believe that she simply didn’t

want anything to do with me anymore. That was something I didn’t really want or maybe couldn’t really handle. But that’s not the case. She didn’t ghost because she just didn’t want me, she ghosted because she had no other choice. The kiss finally breaks off and I can feel my heart hammering. “What happened?” I ask her. “My older brother, Michael. He was awake when I got home.” “Shit,” I say. “Your own brother dimed you out?” “He didn’t mean it,” she says, brushing me off. “He wanted to do what he thought was best for me.” I nod slowly. Her family structure is complicated, and I know she doesn’t get along well with her older brother. I decide not to press it. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say to her. “I can’t stay long. I’m out on a shopping trip and I ditched my chaperone to come up here.” I grin at her. “You’re going to get in trouble.” “Probably.” She shakes her head. “I don’t care. I’m sick of being a prisoner in my own family.” I grin and kiss her gently on the lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She kisses me back, long and slow. Slowly, we break off the kiss. She looks gorgeous with her flushed cheeks, a little tired, still a little out of breath. I want to take her back into my bedroom and fuck her deep and slow, reward her for coming to see her Daddy even when she knows she shouldn’t. Instead, I content myself with holding her, however briefly. “I don’t know how I’m going to contact you again,” she says. “I just want you to know… no, I need you to know, that this wasn’t my choice. I want to see you.” I nod my head slowly. “I understand.” “They took away my phone, my laptop.” “Are you getting mail?” I ask, though I know the answer. “No.” She pauses. “Did you send something?” “Letters. And a package.” Her face is horrified. “But nothing inappropriate,” I say quickly. “Good,” she says, a little relieved. I grip her hand for a second. “Wait here.” I quickly turn and head back into my bedroom, smiling to

myself. I find an old phone that’s tucked away in a drawer. There’s also an old SIM card in there, which I grab and slip into the phone’s slot. When I’m done, I meet her back in the hall. “Here,” I say, handing it to her. She takes it with a little smile. “A flip phone?” I grin. “Better than nothing.” “Why do you even have this?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “Just one of those old things I kept around.” She laughs a little. “Does it work?” “It will,” I say. “Just find a charger for it. Any little USB charger will work fine, I think. I’ll have the SIM activated as soon as you leave.” She bites her lip. “Okay,” she says. “This is perfect.” “Keep it safe. Call and text when you want. I’ll get you a better one as soon as we see each other again.” “Thank you.” She kisses me softly on the lips. “I have to go now.” “Okay,” I say. I walk her to the door and open it for

her. She lingers in the doorway until I kiss her one last time. She smiles at me then hurries away. I watch her get into the elevator. She blows me a kiss and laughs as the doors shut on her and she disappears. For a second, I feel like this didn’t really happen. But it was real, all right, and she has my old phone. I hurry back inside and call my assistant. He’ll get the SIM set up somehow, and soon I’ll be able to talk to Sadie again. So much for needing a private investigator. This isn’t a perfect solution, and things are going to be hard from here on out, but at least I know what the deal is. She’s still mine, and I’m still her Daddy.

14

SADIE

T

homas gives me a look when I come jogging up to the car.

“Where did you go?” he asks me. I smile a little sheepishly. “Sorry,” I say. “I thought I saw someone I know.” He stares at me for a second. “Did you find him?” he asks. I shake my head. “I was just confused,” I say. He nods and we get back into the car. Reginald glances back at me and then pulls back out into traffic, heading home. I’ve been cooped up in the apartment for the last week, and I’m bored out of my mind. I didn’t think

my father was being literal when he said I couldn’t go anywhere, but he wasn’t kidding. I only managed to get out for an afternoon of shopping by convincing Thomas to be my chaperone. And I chose Thomas for a reason. He likes me, and he’s easy enough to trick if it comes to that. I feel bad honestly, using Thomas’s own kindness against him, but I had no other choice. I chose a place near Gavin’s apartment and the first second I got, I ditched Thomas and ran up to Gavin’s place. I’m glad that I did. The cellphone’s weight in my pocket is comforting as I sit there, looking out the window, ignoring Thomas’s annoyed grumbling. Nothing bad happened and my father never needs to know that I ran away, so he won’t get in any trouble. And now I have a phone to contact Gavin with, even though it’s the oldest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s around five by the time we finally get back to the apartment. I quickly head upstairs and into my room, not bothering to stop and say hello to my parents. I’ve been ignoring them ever since they decided that I’m a captive in my own home. Peter isn’t even around to keep me entertained, since he’s away on some trip with his friends. And I’m not interested in talking to Michael.

I bite my lip as I shut my door and get into my little nook. I quickly text Gavin. “Hello? Is this thing on?” He responds a minute later. “Safe and sound?” “Yep!” I type back. “The smuggling operation was a success.” “Good girl. I knew you could handle it.” “I’m glad I finally have a way to talk to you. I missed it.” “You missed what?” I bite my lip, staring at the screen. “Talking to you,” I say. “That’s not what you meant,” he responds, and I can see the insinuation in his message. “Maybe,” I say, smiling to myself. This is the happiest I’ve been in a while. I’ve been cooped up in the apartment, hidden away from the world, and now finally I can talk to the only person who I really feel like talking to. My phone vibrates with a response from him, but I don’t get a chance to see it. There’s suddenly a knock at my door, and I panic a little bit. I turn off the phone and hide it in with the vibrator before

getting up and answering the door. It’s Michael, frowning in at me. “Father sent me to get you,” he says. “We’re having dinner.” “I’m not hungry,” I say, and go to shut the door. Michael puts his hand out and stops me. “This isn’t optional. Milo is here.” I raise an eyebrow. “Milo’s here right now?” “Yes,” he says. “So please, put on something nice and come down to dinner. You’re expected shortly.” “And if I don’t come?” I ask him. “Are you going to tattle on me?” He sighs, shaking his head. “That was for your own good, Sadie. You think I wanted to do that?” “Yes,” I say to him, staring him in the eye. “Fine, go ahead. Hate me. But I’m your older brother, and I can’t sit around and let you make a mistake like dating Gavin Waller.” Michael can’t even say Gavin’s name without looking absolutely disgusted. “I’m an adult, Michael,” I say to him. “My mistakes are my own. You can’t control the world.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But you still have to come down to dinner. So please, just come.” He turns and leaves without another word. I sigh and head back into my room. The last thing I want to do is have family dinner with Milo. I know my parents are going to try and set us up again, but I have no choice. I can’t just ignore it like some little girl. I get changed and head downstairs. I know I’m in for something painful, but I have to do it anyway. I’m determined to get my family to finally recognize that I’m a person with my own wants and needs, not just a pawn in their political game. The family is seated at the dining room table, everyone except for Peter. Milo sits in Peter’s usual spot. I take the seat across from him, and he smiles as I sit down. “It’s nice to see you,” Milo says to me. “Good to see you, too,” I say. I don’t bother looking at my father. “We were just discussing Milo’s business venture,” my father says. “It’s quite interesting.” I glance at Milo. “What is it?” I ask him. “Oh, nothing fancy. Just a little consulting firm. I’m

helping tech developers secure funding for their projects.” “He’s doing quite well,” mother says, clearly more impressed by his income than by his skills. “I didn’t know about that,” I say, already bored of this. “I’ve been keeping it private,” Milo says. “But you’re like family now. So I might as well share.” I look up at him quickly. That last comment was strange. What does he mean, we’re like family now? That doesn’t seem right. As far as I know, he’s still just the son of a family friend at best, even though my parents do want to marry me off to him. Did something happen? Before I can ask, the first course is served. Father, Michael, and Milo all begin to discuss the latest market trends, and I quickly tune them out. I wish I had my phone so that I could message Gavin, but that would be akin to suicide. Instead, I have to settle for ignoring the man my family wants me to marry in favor of dreaming about the man I actually want. It’s an awful situation, but there’s nothing I can do. I get through dinner with the minimum amount of pain, only responding when I absolutely have to.

That’s fine with the men, of course, since they’re more interested in hearing themselves talk than they are in anything I might have to say. The main course comes and goes and eventually we’re all sitting at the table, drinking decaf coffee. Mother stands and excuses herself after a few minutes, followed by father. Michael is the last one to make some excuse, leaving me there with Milo. I realize too late that it’s a trap. I’m too polite to tell Milo to leave, and if everyone else has gone, I’m forced to sit down there with him. This is exactly what father and mother want, of course. “So, Sadie,” he says, smiling at me. “I’m glad we’re doing this.” “Yeah,” I say, being polite. “Same. It’s nice.” “We don’t see each other nearly enough.” He smiles again. “No,” I say, not wanting to elaborate. He stirs his coffee with a spoon. I look down at mine, a little milky white spreading through the black, and then look back at Milo. “I’m glad you finally changed your mind,” Milo says to me. I cock my head. “About what?”

“About our marriage.” He shrugs and smiles, leaning back in his chair. “I know it’s a little, ah, old fashioned. But we’d make a very good pair. Our families would be stronger together.” I stare at him, a sinking dread spreading through my whole body. “Our marriage?” I ask him. His smile falters just a touch. “Yes, of course. Your father spoke with mine, and they agreed that we’d get married in the spring of next year. He said you agreed to it.” His comment about practically being family becomes suddenly frighteningly clear. I push back my chair and stand very quickly, trying to keep myself under control. “Excuse me, Milo,” I say. “I’m not feeling well.” He says something, but I don’t hear him. I turn and walk as fast as I can out of there, my heart hammering in my chest. My father fucking married me off behind my back without my consent. Like I’m some kind of property, he agreed to a weird arranged marriage that I have no say in. And to make matters worse, he didn’t tell me about it. He didn’t even bother to inform me about his little deal, although Milo clearly knows all about it.

I’m livid, absolutely livid with anger. I want to scream and yell and tear down this house. I can’t believe they’re trying to force me to marry Milo like this. I don’t hesitate. I walk right into my bedroom, grab the phone, turn it on, and message Gavin. “Pick me up tonight at midnight. I’m ready.” I hit send, not caring what that means. He responds almost immediately. “See you soon.” I hide the phone away again and curl up on my bed, trying not to yell and scream. I have to get out of this house and see someone who actually cares about me, and the only person that fits that description is Gavin. He’s the only man that actually cares what I want and makes me feel happy. I’m done playing pretend. I’m finished with my family. I’m going to do what I want, for myself, finally. I’m going to let Gavin give me what I’ve always dreamed about.

15

GAVIN

S

he’s quiet on the ride over to my apartment. I try to draw her out in conversation, but she clearly doesn’t want to talk, and I don’t want to press. Something happened. That’s pretty obvious. Something has been happening, but this is new. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that I have to wait until she’s ready to talk. I don’t want to push and risk upsetting her further. We get back to my apartment and head right upstairs. Once inside, I pour her a glass of wine and I get myself a whisky with a single large piece of ice. I swirl it around as she goes and sits on my couch. “You’re quiet tonight,” I say.

She shrugs a little bit. “I guess so.” I walk into the living room and go to the fireplace. It has a little gas nozzle in the back with a starter and a fake log. I just have to hit a single button and the fire starts up. “You don’t have to talk,” I say to her. “If you don’t want to.” She gives me a little smile. “Oh yeah? What should we do instead?” I shrug. “Do you like puzzles?” She gives me a look. “Like what kids do?” I grin and nod. “Sure. We could do a puzzle. Maybe we could play Yahtzee.” “I can’t tell if you’re joking.” I laugh and sit down on the couch next to her. “Do I really seem like the type of man to play Yahtzee?” She smiles a little bit. “You never know.” “Ouch. That’s almost insulting.” Her smile grows. “You’re the one trying to make a puzzle.” “I’m willing to try anything to get you to quit sulking.”

She crosses her arms. “I am not sulking.” “You are. I don’t know why, and you don’t have to tell me, but you really are.” She sighs and looks down at the couch. She sips her wine. “Remember the guy you were bidding against?” she asks. “Vaguely,” I say. “His name is Milo Fitzwilliam.” That sounds familiar. “Old family, right? They own that bank?” She nods. “Our families are very close, or at least they used to be.” I can feel a tingling in my toes as I start to understand. “And your family, they like this Milo guy, right?” “Right,” she says. “It’s so awful, Gavin.” “What did they do?” I ask her softly. “I’m like a piece of furniture to them.” She stands up, looking angry, and paces across the living room. “They want me to marry Milo, not because I want to, but because it would be good for our family

politically.” I watch her silently, but inwardly I can feel my anger growing. Her fucking family is unreal. They’re like some ancient dynasty from Europe or something, trying to marry off their daughter to better their family’s position. It’s so fucking strange and inhuman. She’s a goddamn person, with wants and needs and desires and dreams, but her father seems to think she’s just a chess piece to be used as he sees fit. It’s so infuriating. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I say, standing. “That’s the thing,” she says, whirling on me. “They don’t care what I want. They already went behind my back and told Milo and his family that I agreed to the marriage.” That hits me like a blow to the chest. “They did what?” “They tried to marry me off behind my back,” she says softly. I can see the tears spring to her eyes. I go over to her quickly and take her in my arms, pulling her against me. “You don’t have to do it,” I say.

“Then what?” I ask him. “My family will disown me, and everything I am is tied up in them. I don’t even have an education because they wouldn’t let me.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, totally at a loss. She shakes her head and I hold her tightly, trying not to let the anger that’s rolling through my body show too much. They really don’t care about her at all. But she’s right, everything she has is totally tied up with her family. They were smart when they wouldn’t let her go off to school. She doesn’t have any independence because they’ve made her that way. Now that she’s finally seeing what they did to her, it’s almost too late. But not totally. I can help her. I just need her to know that she has other options. I tilt her head up toward me. “So that’s why you’re here,” I say softly. “Why you said you’re ready.” She nods slowly. “I am ready.” Desire slowly floods through me. “Are you sure?” I ask her. “I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not prepared for.” “I’m sure.” Her eyes are gorgeous and I can’t help

myself. I kiss her full and deep. I let myself get lost in the moment, and for a second, I forget all about her family. I forget about the fact that they want me to stay far away from her, and can probably hurt me pretty badly if they want to. I forget about Silas and about Chuck warning me to stay away from her. I forget about it all. There’s only Sadie in this moment. I kiss her deep, my tongue in her mouth, her taste in mine. I slowly pull her shirt over her head and toss it aside. She’s wearing a gray bra and I feel her breasts as she presses tighter against me. I cup her ass and pull her tight, kissing her deeply. She doesn’t resist when I step back slightly and unbutton her jeans. I tug them down over her hips, getting her partially naked. She stands there in just her bra and matching panties, and my cock is hard as fucking hell. I step back and look at her, which only makes her blush. “Turn for me,” I say. She obeys, turning around. “I’ve never let someone look at me like this before,” she says, a little shy. “I know that,” I answer. I slap her ass and she

seems surprised. “Gavin!” “No,” I say, taking her hair in my fist. I pull her back against me, her ass against my hard cock. “Right now, I’m your Daddy.” She gasps as I reach around her hip with my other hand and slowly slip my fingers down underneath her panties. She’s dripping wet, just like I knew she would be. I slowly begin to rub her wet clit in circles, causing her whole body to tense. I grip her hair with my other hand, and I know that I’m going to dominate her. I want to destroy her fucking pussy, fuck her hard and deep, make her scream. But I have to hold myself back, at least at first. She’s a virgin, and she’s not used to a man like me. But I’ll teach her.

16

SADIE

P

leasure washes through my body as his fingers begin to roll around my clit in soft motions. I can’t believe that he has me halfnaked already, my hair in his one fist, his other hand down my panties. I press my back against him and feel his hard body behind me as he slowly touches my body. This is what I need. I want to forget about my problems, but more than that, I want to feel good and give myself to a man like Gavin. He’s perfect and I know that I’m making the right choice. “Tonight, you’re going to find out what it means to have a Daddy,” he says softly in my ear. I moan a little bit at his touch. “Yes, Daddy,” I say. “I want you to teach me.”

“Here’s your first lesson: get down on your knees.” Excitement floods me as I drop slowly down to my knees. He’s still behind me, as he reaches down to unhook my bra. He feels my bare breasts, bending forward to kiss my neck. I reach up to run my hand through his hair. He steps back after teasing my hard nipples and takes my wrists. He puts them down behind me. I hear him pull his belt from his pants. I gasp as I figure out what he’s doing. “Gavin!” I groan. I feel his breath hot in my cheek. “Daddy,” he gently corrects. “Make that mistake again and I’ll punish you.” I bite my lip. “Daddy. What are you doing?” “I’m tying your hands behind your back.” “I’ve never done this before.” “Good.” He kisses my cheek gently. “There’s a lot you’ve never done.” He expertly wraps the belt around my wrists, binding them together. It’s tight but not too tight, and I can’t move them. He walks around me slowly, looking at me as I’m kneeling on his living room floor.

I’m suddenly very aware of him, of every move he makes. I’m so excited that I can barely think. He pulls his shirt off and slowly removes his pants until he’s just standing there in his boxer briefs. His body is immaculate, amazing, ripped and gorgeous. He has tattoos, which doesn’t surprise me. He steps forward and takes my chin, lifting it up. “Little Sadie,” he says. “Here’s your last chance. If you’re afraid and want to back out, I’d do it now. Because after this,” he smirks at me, “you won’t want to.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper. “Good girl.” He steps back from me and pulls down his boxer briefs, revealing his long, thick cock. I stare at it, completely shocked. He’s bigger and thicker than I’ve ever seen before. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t sure if I could handle a guy like him. “Gavin…” I say softly. He grins at me. “I warned you,” he says. I realize my mistake, but too late. He goes behind me and gently pushes me forward until my face is against his rug, my ass in the air, my hands tied behind my back.

“Daddy!” I gasp as he slaps my ass, hard. He spanks me again and again. It stings, but just before it starts to hurt, he presses his fingers deep inside of my pussy. I groan, shocked at how the sudden pleasure counteracts the pain. In fact, the pain seems to make the pleasure that much sweeter. He slides his fingers in and out of me for a few moments, getting me to moan and twist my hips. He pulls them back out then gets me back up on my knees. “Good girl,” he says softly. “That’s your punishment.” He stands in front of me, stroking his long, thick cock, and grins. “Now, open up.” I do as I’m told, opening my mouth. He slides his thick cock between my lips and I groan a little bit. He’s so thick and long, I can barely get him inside my mouth. He wraps his hands through my hair as I start to suck his cock, sliding up and down his thick shaft. “That’s right, use those little virgin lips to suck my cock,” he whispers. “God damn, you look so sexy down on your knees. Do you like being tied up for me?” I moan and nod as I keep sucking him. I’m totally lost in the moment, not thinking clearly, not caring

about anything at all. The only thing I care about is Gavin, my Daddy, at this moment. He presses his cock deeper into my mouth, sliding into my throat. I gag a little and he pulls back, smirking at me. “You have to learn to take my cock into your throat,” he says gently. I nod my head, eyes tearing up a bit, but I want it so badly. He slides his cock forward again, and this time, before I can gag, I suppress it. “Good,” he says. “Fuck, that’s good. I love feeling your throat around my fucking cock.” I let him slide himself as deep as he can. I can’t take him all, I just don’t think that’s physically possible, but I get most of it in before he slides back out. I gasp and groan a little bit. I manage to get him back in my mouth and I suck his tip, greedily wanting him. “Legs spread,” he commands me. I obey, sitting up on my knees, spreading my legs wide. “Look at those fucking hips,” he says. “And that back. You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” He pulls his cock back and steps away, looking at me while stroking himself. He tips my chin toward him and kisses my lips slightly.

“Are you ready?” he asks me. “I don’t know,” I admit, my heart suddenly beating fast in my chest. “I’ll be gentle,” he says. “At least at first. I promise.” I nod my head once, and I realize that I’m afraid. I don’t know why I’d be afraid. I know he’ll take care of me. I know it’s going to feel good. But it’s my first time, and I’m still nervous. Plus, his cock is so big, I’m afraid he’ll rip me in half. He reaches behind me and pulls off the belt, freeing my hands. He then grabs me, pulls me to my feet, and lifts me into his arms. I laugh as he carries me into the bedroom. “Here we go,” he says, putting me down on top of his comforter. “This is where your first time should be.” I bite my lip and look at him as he pulls my panties off. I’m completely naked with him, though I don’t feel self-conscious at all. He spreads my legs wide then teases my pussy with his fingers. He presses two inside of me, nice and deep, sliding them in and out. I watch him as little moans escape my lips.

“Good,” he says. “Nice and soaking wet. You’re going to need it.” I bite my lip again, harder this time, as he presses his cock against my pussy. He leans down and cups my head in one hand, kissing me hard on the mouth. I’m nervous, my heart hammering in my chest, but this is it. I want it so badly. I’m so tired of being a virgin girl. I want to grow up, move on with my life, and become a woman. This is part of that, and I can’t imagine a better man to help me than my Daddy. He presses himself inside of me, and I gasp. It hurts, just like I knew it would. He slides himself inside slowly. “Relax,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “Just relax. Let me do the work.” I nod and turn my head to the side. He gives me a bit of the comforter and I bite down on it as he slides himself inside of me. I groan, shocked that he can even fit inside of me. After a moment, he’s deep in my pussy, and I look back at him, tears in my eyes. He kisses them away. “No crying,” he says softly. “You’re my girl now.”

“I’m not crying,” I say, smiling a little bit. “It just hurt, that’s all.” “It’s okay.” He kisses my neck, slowly pulling back. “God damn, you feel so fucking good.” He slides himself back out and slowly presses back in. This time, it doesn’t hurt as badly. In fact, it actually feels a little good. I’m shocked. He slides back out and slowly slides back in, kissing my lips, my neck, talking gently in my ear. At first, it hurt like hell, but as he keeps moving, slowly but surely, it starts to feel good. After a few more strokes, the pleasure starts to totally outweigh the pain. Little moans begin to escape my lips as he slowly moves a little bit faster, a little bit deeper. He spreads my legs wider and takes my hands, pinning them above my head. I love being controlled by him. He’s so damn strong and sure of himself, and he obviously knows what he’s doing. He starts to move faster. I can’t help but roll my hips against him as pleasure starts to build. I’m shocked that it feels this good. I thought it was just going to hurt the whole time, but that’s not true. “There you go,” he says, smirking at me. “You’re starting to like this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admit. “God, I didn’t think you’d fit.” “I fit,” he says. “You can take more than you realize, Sadie girl.” He presses himself deep inside of me and puts two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them, holding his hand, as he starts to fuck me a bit faster. The pleasure rolls through me, surprising me, but I’m past the point of trying to hold back. Moans escape my lips, past his fingers, coming out muffled as he keeps working into me, fucking me slow and deep. “A little bit harder now,” he says. “Tell me what you like.” “That,” I gasp, as he presses deep inside of me. “Oh just like that.” He rocks his hips, filling my pussy up. I’m so past caring about pain or anything but this incredible pleasure rolling through my skin. I moan as he takes my hair in his fist, pulling it back, turning my head to one side. He rocks back onto his knees, my hair in his hand, his cock between my legs. He works my clit with his other thumb, fucking me slow and deep, pulling my hair, driving a little pain through me. But his thumb on my clit drives me crazy. It feels so damn good. I start to writhe and roll my hips,

working against him, wanting it badly. He smirks at me as moans escape my lips, faster and faster. He releases my hair and starts to fuck me harder. The pain is still there, but the pleasure is just too much. It’s almost overwhelming. He works my clit, fucking my pussy, his hard body so gorgeous as he does his magic to me. I never expected my first time would be like this, but it’s happening, and it feels so damn good. I understand why people love sex so much. This man makes me feel good. “Fuck, Sadie,” he says. “You like this, don’t you? You’re a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you?” “Yes, Daddy,” I moan. “I’m whatever you want me to be.” “That’s right.” He leans toward me, pulling my hair again. “You’ll do anything for your Daddy. You want to make me happy, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp, losing my mind from pleasure. “I’ll do anything for you, Daddy.” “That’s my good Sadie girl,” he says, driving his cock into me. I didn’t even realize it, but he’s fucking me harder, deeper, his thumb still working my clit. I’m writhing

my hips and rolling them against him, trying to get every inch of him, trying to feel every single sensation. “I can see it in your face,” he whispers. “You’re close but you don’t even know it. Don’t hold yourself back, Sadie. Just relax. Let it come to you.” “Yes, Daddy,” I moan, doing as he says. I close my eyes and relax, getting into the rhythm, losing myself in the moment. His cock is so big and fills me up so easily, and his body is strong against mine. I love everything about this moment. I love the smell, the feeling, the taste of him. Pleasure builds inside of me, peaking and rolling and growing, and before I’m even aware of it, I’m about to come. Moans escape my lips, louder and louder. I roll my hips faster against him as he fucks me deep, talking to me, encouraging me, pushing me. I grip the sheets tight and suddenly the orgasm rolls through me. I come hard, harder than I’ve ever been able to make myself come. I come on his thick cock and I can’t believe it, I can hardly believe that I’m having an orgasm. I wasn’t supposed to come this first time, it was supposed to be painful and difficult, but that’s not at all what it is.

Daddy knows what he’s doing. I’m giving myself to him and he’s giving back by making me feel better than I’ve ever felt before. I come so hard I lose myself completely, and practically black out from the pleasure. “Fuck, girl,” he groans loudly. “God damn, you’re so fucking sexy when you come.” He’s fucking me faster, deeper, and suddenly he pulls himself out. Thick ropes of cum cover my stomach and breasts as he orgasms all over me. I gasp, surprised and delighted by how thick and far he shoots. He practically covers me, groaning and stroking himself. Slowly he finishes, and we come down together. He grins at me and kisses me before quickly getting a towel. He helps me clean off, tenderly kissing me, and when I’m cleaned up, he spoons me on the covers. We lie like that, breathing deeply, sweating slightly. I feel so good and all my problems are completely gone as he holds me. “Sadie,” he says after a couple of minutes. “You didn’t ride horses, did you?” I pause, surprised at the strange question. “No,” I say. “My parents wouldn’t let me. How’d you

know?” I can feel his smile against my neck. “Don’t freak out. There’s just a little blood.” I sit up suddenly and stare down at the comforter. A big red stain spreads all around us. “Oh my god!” I say. “Hey,” he answers. “It’s okay, seriously. It’s a cheap comforter. Don’t worry. I knew this might happen.” “I’m so, so sorry,” I say. “It’s okay,” he says. I stand up, intending to try and clean it up, but he gets up and grabs me. He pulls me against him. “Listen,” he says. “I knew that might happen. That’s why we did it there. Don’t worry.” I bite my lip, embarrassed. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” he says. “Seriously. We’ll throw away the comforter and get another one.” “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” “No, you’re not. You were a virgin.” He kisses my lips gently. “But now you’re not.”

I blink, a little surprised. He’s right. I’m not a virgin anymore. This should be a bigger moment. I should feel different, like totally reborn or something. I always imagined my first time would make me feel like an adult finally. Instead, I just feel like myself. Except there’s an ache between my legs and I just had a great orgasm, but otherwise still myself. “I don’t feel different,” I say to him. He laughs a little. “I didn’t think you would.” He kisses me softly again. “But you will.” “How?” I ask him. “We’re not done tonight,” he whispers, and a thrill runs down my spine. “We’re not?” “Oh no,” he says. “I have so much to teach you. We’re just getting started.” I look up at him, a thrill running through my skin. I kiss him deeply and passionately and I know he’s right. We are just getting started. And I can’t wait for him to show me everything that I’ve been missing. I can’t wait for him to make me feel like a real woman.

I know he can do it. He’s already getting a little hard, and I can already feel my desire starting to build again. Maybe I’m a little embarrassed about the blood, but that’s okay, he genuinely doesn’t seem to mind at all. Besides, I’ll make it up to him. I’ll be his obedient little girl and he’ll be my Daddy. Together he’ll teach me everything I’ve always wanted to learn, and I’ll obey his every word, because I want to be a good girl for him.

17

GAVIN

W

e spend the rest of the night alternating between exploring each other’s bodies and talking. We don’t go to sleep until four in the morning, and I don’t think I can remember ever feeling so good. There’s a spirit to Sadie that I’ve never experienced before. For someone that has such an oppressive family, she seems so absolutely alive. She clearly wants more from life than just to be married off to whomever her family chooses for her, and she’s doing what makes her happy, despite the danger. I can’t get enough of it. She makes me feel young again, although I like being her older Daddy. I like taking care of her and teaching her everything she needs to know.

I wake up slowly in the morning, the sunlight streaming in through the windows. I glance at the clock and sigh to myself. I got maybe four hours of sleep at most. It’s eight in the morning, and I know I won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. I don’t care. Sadie’s beautiful body is snuggled up against mine, and I run my hand down her beautiful hips. Instantly the night before comes back to me, every single lurid detail. Her pussy is like fucking fire. I don’t know how else to put it. I never really cared about deflowering a virgin before, but I’m fucking glad I got to do it with Sadie. I taught her everything she needed to know about sex, or at least I started to teach her. And she was so eager to learn. Not to mention enthusiastic. Her pussy is so fucking tight and slick, I just never want to leave it. And she throws herself into sex like there’s nothing else in the world. I’ve been with plenty of other women, but that’s something I’ve never seen before, and it’s fucking addictive. I slip out of bed, letting her sleep. She stirs but doesn’t wake up. I head into the bathroom to do my morning routine before heading into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I put on the coffee and start up some eggs, toast,

and waffles. Sometimes I hire someone to come in and cook for me, but today I feel like it’s better to go for the personal touch. Maybe another morning we can sit out on the balcony and leisurely drink our coffee while we eat an awesome breakfast from my normal personal chef. I keep thinking about Sadie in the other room and smiling to myself. This isn’t fucking like me. Normally I’m much more reserved and pessimistic, but she does something to me that I can’t deny. She makes me happy. Fuck, in a world where I have so much already, and so little of it actually brings a smile to my face, she’s the most valuable thing that I can imagine. She makes me fucking happy. I never thought I’d feel this way about a woman. I thought I’d always go from woman to woman, taking what I want and moving on, but Sadie is different. She makes me want to stay. As I’m finishing the eggs and putting them in a bowl, I hear a knock at my door. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever it is, and so I just ignore it, but they start knocking again. Annoyed, I go to answer the door. I don’t want

whoever it is to wake Sadie up. I assume it’s probably the doorman with packages or mail or some shit like that. “Okay, enough,” I say. “I’m coming.” I pull open the door. Silas smiles at me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello there, Gavin,” he says. I take a step backwards. I didn’t expect this. “Silas,” I say. “What do you want?” He frowns at me. “Are you joking?” I pause and stare at him. He’s here for one reason and one reason alone: to bring back Sadie. That much is obvious. Her family must know she left and they figured out where she is pretty quickly. “She doesn’t want to go with you,” I say softly, anger rising in my chest. “Now, now, Gavin,” he says. “You know it doesn’t work like that.” He subtly opens his jacket, showing me his gun, “Make this easy, will you?” I want to fight him, but I’m unarmed and wearing only a pair of jogging pants and a black t-shirt. I wouldn’t be able to get my gun before Silas can pull his weapon out.

“What’s with you people?” I say to him. “The girl wants to live her life. Aren’t you a little sick of working for guys like Tillman?” “No,” Silas says flatly. “Please go get her.” I clench my fists. For a second, I think I’m going to hit him. Maybe if I strike first, I can wrestle the gun away from him and get the upper hand. But I’m stopped by a voice from behind me. “Let him in, Gavin,” Sadie says. I turn and look at her. She’s standing inside, frowning at me. She’s wearing the same outfit from the night before. “Your father sent me,” Silas says to her. “I know who you are,” she answers. “I’ll come with you. Just give me a few minutes.” He sighs. “I’m not supposed to do that.” “Please. You won’t have any trouble.” Sadie looks pointedly at me. I grunt and nod at Silas. “A few minutes,” I say. “Fine,” he answers. “I’ll be out here.” He leans up against the wall next to my door. I shut it and lock it, then turn to Sadie.

She looks at me for a second then walks quickly over to me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I hug her tight. I hate that she had to see this asshole. She’s not crying, though, which makes me proud. “You’re in deep shit,” I say to her with a smile. She smiles back. “Guess so.” “You don’t seem to mind.” “I guess not.” She shrugs. “I’m figuring things out for myself.” “Good for you.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “You don’t have to go, you know. I’ll get rid of him.” “I bet you would,” she says, grinning at me. “But it’s better if I just go. It’s time for me to make some hard choices.” I don’t exactly know what she means by that, but I can guess. “Are you sure?” She nods once, resolute. “I’m sure.” “Okay.” I kiss her one more time. “It’s a shame. I made a damn good breakfast.” She smiles at me. “I bet you did.”

“Think you have time for a shower?” She shakes her head, still smiling. “No, I don’t think so. And I don’t think you really want me to clean up.” “No,” I admit. “I didn’t plan on letting you get clean.” I kiss her deep and full then, hoping that she understands what I mean. I hope she understands that she’s mine and I’m not letting her go, no matter what her fucking family says. We break apart slowly. “I’ll see you soon,” she says. “And I still have the phone.” “Good.” I let her go and she steps toward the door. She pause before she leaves and looks at me. “I’ll be thinking about you, Daddy.” I smirk at her. “I know you will be.” She smiles, opens the door, and then leaves. I get a glimpse of Silas looking back at me as they head down the hall, a mysterious look on his face. I shut the door and lock it. I don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, I didn’t want her to leave, and I would have fought to keep her. But on the other, she decided to go back on her own, and I have to respect that maturity. She’s an impressive

girl, and she just keeps getting more and more impressive.

18

SADIE

G

oing home with my father’s goon was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life, but I knew that I couldn’t resist him. Silas is a scary man, although I’ve only met him a few times, but even I know that he’s the man my father sends to do the dirty work. I didn’t want Gavin to get hurt just because I couldn’t face the consequences of my actions. I don’t regret anything. The whole ride back to my family’s apartment, Silas is quiet, and he leaves me plenty of space to think. And the only thing I can think about is the night before. What Gavin made me feel, I never thought I’d have that. I was convinced that I was doomed to marry some rich asshole like Milo and never,

ever be happy. I never really believed that I’d have happiness, real happiness, like the kind Gavin made me feel the night before. It’s not just the sex, which was surprisingly amazing. It’s not just the fact that he took my virginity. It’s everything about him, the way he listens to me, the way he values me. He was cooking breakfast for me when Silas showed up. He wants to take care of me, wants me to actually be happy instead of a slave to his own desires. Although a slave to his desires doesn’t sound too bad. After all, the sex really was amazing. Like, shockingly amazing. I thought it was going to hurt a lot more, and although it really did hurt, it was a good pain. It was a good sharp ache between my legs, mixed with pure pleasure as he worked me, made me feel things. Then after that first time, and the embarrassing moment with my blood, he fucked me again and again, made me feel better than I ever guessed I could. Silas escorts me back into our apartment when we arrive. He’s clearly not taking any chances. He doesn’t leave my side until I’m standing in my father’s study, my father giving me a dour and angry look.

My father doesn’t speak for a whole minute. I want to yell at him, but I’m not backing down. I stare right back at him, daring him to get started. “Was it worth it?” he asked me. “Yes,” I say. He frowns. “You’re an embarrassment, Sadie. I really expected more of you, but like every woman, you’re fickle and emotional.” I ball my fists. My father is such a sexist piece of shit. But I don’t say anything. I let my gaze remain defiant. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset. “You will not leave this apartment until I give you permission,” he says. “I’m going to have someone watching out every single second of the day until your punishment is through. Do you understand?” I nod my head once. “Do you enjoy controlling me, father?” I ask him. “Like I’m still some little girl.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, Sadie, I don’t care what you think about me. You’re going to do your duty to this family, even if I have to force you at gunpoint. Now, get out of my sight.” I linger for a moment longer, but I have nothing left to say to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not my

father anymore. He’s my captor. A new staff member that I don’t recognize, a middle-aged man, is waiting for me outside of the study. He follows me back to my room and then stands on the other side of the door when I shut it. My father wasn’t kidding about watching me. Getting out to see Gavin is going to be really hard, but fortunately, I still have one little trick up my sleeve. I quickly get the phone and pull it out. I send him a text. “In deep shit, but it was worth it. I don’t know when I can see you again.” “Soon,” he sends back. “I hope.” I smile to myself and curl up in bed. Sure, I’m locked up in my own bedroom with someone watching me all the time, but at least I have this phone. At least I can contact him and text him when I want to. I’ll get out sooner or later, and when I do, I’ll go right to see Gavin. I feel good. So damn good. I can’t stop smiling. I didn’t know life could be this good to me. I don’t care that I’m in trouble. This time apart just means

I have time to figure out what I’m going to do, to make some plans for my future. Because I’m not staying with my family forever. I just need to figure out something else to do to support myself. It’s all going to be okay. I curl up in bed, smiling, unable to stop smiling.

ONE

MONTH PASSES

and I barely leave my room.

I didn’t know I could get so bored. It’s not so bad at first. I call and text Gavin as often as possible. Quickly we realize that my father is coming after Gavin’s businesses, and apparently some of Gavin’s partners are dropping out. That only makes me angry, but when I confront my father about it, he simply dismisses me and says that Gavin is getting what he deserves. Even though my family is trying to destroy him, Gavin doesn’t seem upset about it. He never blames me for it or holds it against me. He only told me because I kept pestering him about why he seemed so stressed lately. But soon, the boredom sets in. I reread my favorite

books, but that only eats up a week since I’m a fast reader. My father lets me watch TV and provides me some more books, but he refuses to let me have the wireless password, and the phone Gavin gave me is so old that I can’t get online with it. I’m completely cut off from the world, which is exactly what my father wants. One night, about three weeks into my sentence, I woke up in he middle of the night to try and sneak out, desperate to do something. But there was a man sitting outside of my door, and as soon as I opened it, he was alert and watching. I had to pretend like I was going downstairs for a late night snack, but he totally saw through that. My relationship with Gavin began to suffer. At first, we spent a lot of time having phone sex and trading pictures all day. I sent him so many dirty selfies that I can barely even count them now, although the phone’s camera is pretty awful. He talked dirty to me every night for the first three weeks. But with his businesses in trouble, Gavin is busier than ever. So one month after this all began, we’re not having as much phone sex as we were, and he’s not able to text me all day long like he was at first. I’m going stir crazy. Absolutely stir crazy. Which is why I don’t even notice at first when I

miss my period. I’m really regular. Like, really regular. It’s like clockwork, and I’m never, ever late. I don’t know why I’m so regular, but I simply am, and that makes it easy to plan around. But because I’m so bored and distracted by everything that’s happening, I don’t even notice that I’m late until three days later when I’m in the shower and I suddenly realize what the date is. I try not to freak out at first. I know it’s so freaking unlikely that I got pregnant the very first time I ever had sex. True, we didn’t use protection, which was maybe not the smartest thing in the world. I just thought that it was safe to go without it, but when I actually sit down and do the math, I realize how horribly wrong I was. But no, I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be. He didn’t come inside of me that very first time, but I realize with horror that he did later on in the night, practically because I begged him to. I feel so stupid, but there has to be some other reason for why I’m late. I decide not to tell Gavin right away, just to avoid worrying him and adding unnecessary stress. But three days turns into four days which turns into five days, and my period still hasn’t come.

I need to take a test. I absolutely have to take a pregnancy test, but I don’t know how to do it. I consider approaching Peter about it, but ever since I came back from Gavin’s apartment that night, Peter hasn’t really been interested in talking to me. That hurts a lot, but it can’t be helped, since he is still a slave to my family. No, I can’t trust Peter, and I can’t trust Michael. I can’t just ask my mother, because if I am pregnant, she’ll just force me to have an abortion or to go away somewhere and have the baby, then force me to put it up for adoption. I can only imagine the heinous things she’d say to me. I don’t even want to picture how my father would react. And since I’m under constant guard, I can’t just go to the store and get it myself. I can’t order it online, since I can’t get online, and I don’t know who I could contact to ask for help. I don’t trust any of my friends, even if they were home. The gossip in my community is so crazy and intense that I know the second I tell someone I’m pregnant, everyone will know, and my parents will murder me. I have only one option and it’s the last thing I want to do. I stare at my phone, six days after my missed period. It’s six o’clock at night. I have dinner with my family and pretend like everything is fine, even

though it’s definitely not. My heart is hammering when I’m back in my bedroom with the phone in my hand. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do or what Gavin is going to say. He never signed up for this. He never wanted to get some virgin like me pregnant. He says he wants to see me more, even wants to take care of me and be my Daddy, but he never said anything about being a dad for real. I can’t put it off. I don’t have other options. I dial his number and wait as it rings. He answers on the third ring. “Hey, you,” he says. “I was hoping I’d hear from you, Sadie girl.” “Gavin,” I say quickly. “We need to talk.” He pauses. “This sounds serious. Are you okay?” “I think so,” I say. “I mean, yeah, I am.” “Is it your family?” he asks. “I can come for you right now. Just say the word.” I blink, a little surprised. “No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s sort of that. Just, listen, okay?” “Okay,” he says, though I can tell he wants to ask more questions. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I’m practically

shaking with nerves. “Gavin, I missed my period.” He doesn’t respond right away. I sit there listening to the silence on his end, not knowing how he’s reacting or what he’s thinking. I’m so afraid he’s going to just hang up and leave me. It never occurred to me until right this second that Gavin could walk away and never talk to me again so easily, and leave me all alone to face the wrath of my family. “Are you sure you’re late?” he asks. “I did the math,” I say quickly. “And I’m always on time. I’m really regular. It’s been six days.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll get pregnancy tests. You need to get out of there tonight.” I blink, a little surprised. “Really?” I ask him. He laughs softly. “Really,” he says. “We talked about this before, remember? Just start running.” I nod once, remembering that conversation. He told me that if I really want to get out, I just have to run away. They won’t physically stop me. My father will know I’m gone, but my guards won’t touch me, there’s just no way my father would hire people that would actually physically force me to stay put. They’re there to scare me. I think Gavin’s right about that but I’ve been too nervous to test it.

“Are you sure you want this?” I ask him softly. “Of course,” he says instantly. “Sadie, I told you I’d take care of you, no matter what. Meet me tonight at midnight at the usual spot. I’ll be waiting.” “Thank you,” I say, biting back tears. “Don’t thank me,” he says softly. “I’m your Daddy, Sadie. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll figure this out together.” “Okay,” I say. “Tonight. Can you do it?” “I can do it,” I say. “Good. See you then.” I hang up the phone and stare at the floor. Conflicting emotions roil in my body. On the one hand, I’m terrified that I’m probably pregnant, and now I have to escape from the apartment. But more importantly, Gavin isn’t going to leave me. He’s going to take care of me. He’s going to help me. I can get away. I know it won’t be hard. Just before midnight, I’ll run out of my room and out the front door as fast as I can. It’ll take the guard by surprise, and I know I can get down the stairs pretty fast.

They won’t be able to catch me. And then I’ll meet Gavin, and we’ll find out together.

19

GAVIN

I

never wanted to be a father. Well, honestly, I never really thought about it before. I always just assumed I never would have kids. I never met a woman before who I might even consider doing that with. Having a child wasn’t something I thought about with Sadie, but now that it might be happening, the idea doesn’t scare me nearly as much as I thought it might. Maybe if she were anyone else, I might run away, or something equally shitty. But I could never do that to Sadie. I care too much about her for that. I haven’t seen her for a month, but our relationship is stronger than it ever has been. We spend so much time talking to each other, that I feel like we’re closer

than I’ve ever been with someone. The only down side right now is my business war with her father. He’s been slowly pecking at my businesses, taking away clients, scaring off partners, and generally fucking shit up. I’ve been able to stop the bleeding for the time being, but he’s not backing down. He’s using every dirty trick in the book to come after me, and slowly but surely, it’s working. So far, I haven’t lost much, but I will. And I’m afraid of what Sadie will think if I don’t have the sort of money that I did when we first met. I’ll always be able to take care of her. I’m too rich to ever go back to being totally broke. But I don’t know if I’ll be as wealthy as she’s used to, and that makes me nervous. One thing at a time, though. I pull up at the usual spot and wait. She’s not there, but I’m not surprised. She has to break out of her prison first. The thought of what her father has put her through makes me so angry I can barely breathe. If she’s pregnant with my child, she’s not going back to them. No way in hell will she go back into that apartment without me. I’ll fight them all off for her, and I know I’ll win. Because Tillman wants to use Sadie as a pawn in his game, but I want to

genuinely take care of her and make her happy. After a few minutes pass, I start to get worried. But before I can pick up my phone and call her, I notice someone running toward me. It takes me half a second to realize that it’s Sadie. She gets to my car, out of breath from running, and jumps inside. “Go!” she yells. “What?” I ask, grinning at her. “They’re chasing me!” I look into the rearview mirror and sure enough, two guys are running down the block. I laugh and peel out, leaving them in my dust. “I can’t believe they actually chased you.” “I know, right?” She laughs, breathless and pink from exertion. She looks so fucking beautiful, and I suddenly realize with a pang that I may be looking at the mother of my child. “They were trying to get me to stay, but you were right. They didn’t touch me.” I grin at her. “I’m impressed.” “Me too. I didn’t know I could run so fast.”

I laugh and drive us back to my apartment where the tests are waiting. We talk about her escape as we go, though I can tell we’re both just trying to avoid the real subject. When I’m parked, we head upstairs. She drops her stuff on the kitchen island and bites her lip. I can tell she’s afraid. I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me. It feels so fucking good to be touching her after this long, torturous month. I kiss her hard on the mouth, enjoying her, tasting her, not thinking about the real reason she’s here. We enjoy the kiss for as long as it lasts, and finally she breaks away. “I’m nervous,” she admits. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m here for you.” “Do you…?” She trails off and looks at me expectantly. “In the bathroom,” I say. “There are a few tests in there. I did some research, I think I got you the best tests.” She nods, taking a deep breath. “Is it too early?” she asks. “No,” I say. “I think they say a week is the most

accurate, but six days should be fine.” I take her hands and squeeze. “Do you want me to come with you?” She nods a little. “Yeah. It’s embarrassing but… I don’t want to be alone.” I smile and kiss her softly. “I think I can handle you peeing a little bit.” I grab a small juice glass from the counter. “Here.” She looks at it, confused. “For what?” “Pee in there,” I say, laughing. “Then you dip the stick.” “Oh,” she says, nodding. “Of course. Makes more sense than trying to pee on the stick.” I kiss her one more time and then she goes into the bathroom alone. She pees into the glass, and when she’s done, she calls me inside. We stare at the little glass of her urine. She opens the first box, dips in the stick, and then we wait. It’s an agonizing wait. Neither of us speaks. She stares at the stick and I wish I could read her mind in this moment. I wish she could read mine as well, because that way she’d know that I’d never leave her no matter what. When the test finishes and it confirms that she’s

pregnant, I surprise myself by laughing. She looks at me, a little wide-eyed. “Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I think I’m happy.” She looks surprised. “You’re happy?” I nod, grinning. “You’re pregnant! I never thought I’d be a father but… god, I’m going to be a dad. And you’re going to be the mom.” She bites her lower lip. “You’re not mad? Or afraid?” “Of course I’m afraid,” I say. “But mad? Not even a little bit.” I grab her hips and pull her against me. “You’re my girl, Sadie. I told you I’d take care of you.” She smiles slightly and looks up at me. “Promise?” “I promise.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “Now, let’s dip a few more sticks, just to be sure.” She grins. “Okay. Sounds like fun.” We spend the next hour taking the tests, mostly having fun with it. We kiss and laugh and talk, and each test comes up positive. She’s definitely pregnant. By the end of it, we’re

sitting out on the couch together, her legs in my lap, her arms around my neck. I kiss her softly on the lips. “What do we do now?” she asks after a short somber silence. I shrug. “What do you want to do?” She pauses and looks at me. “Should I… you know,” she says. I sigh. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, Sadie girl,” I say carefully. “I know. But do you think I should? I mean, have an abortion.” I smile softly. “I know what you meant. And I don’t know. Do you want to have an abortion?” “No,” she says immediately, and then pauses. “No, I guess not.” I smile broadly at her. “Good. I didn’t want you to, either. I just didn’t want to influence you too much. It’s your choice.” “Why are you being so good about this?” she asks, genuinely surprised. “What do you mean? This is my baby too.”

She shrugs a little. “I’ve heard of guys freaking out because of accidental pregnancies. I mean, you never signed up for this. I’m just some virgin girl you slept with.” I take her chin, tilting her face toward mine. “No,” I say to her. “You’re not just that. You’re my Sadie girl. And I’m your Daddy.” “Still,” she says softly. “You didn’t ask for this.” “And neither did you. So I should just walk away and leave you to take care of it?” “You could,” she says. That makes me a little angry. “I can’t imagine the sort of bastard who would do that to you.” She smiles a little. “I bet it’s more common than you think.” “I’m not that guy.” I kiss her hard on the mouth. “Do you understand?” I say when I’m through. “I understand.” She says, hardly a whisper. I stare into her eyes for a second longer then I kiss her more deeply. Suddenly, it feels like the whole month of tension between us bubbles over. One second, we’re sitting there and discussing what to do about our future,

and the next I’m peeling off her clothes and teasing her breasts with my tongue. I feel so goddamn impatient. I need her, I realize with a shock as my hands roam her gorgeous body. She moans as I slide her jeans over her hips and press my hands down her panties. I work her wet little clit and we kiss each other, both of us starving for the other. She’s dripping wet already, soft moans escaping her lips as I kiss her, and I know I can’t wait. I slide my own pants off as I press her down on the couch. I get her panties down around her ankles before spreading her knees wide, showing off that pink little glistening pussy. I bite her lower lip and press my cock against her. “You’re mine,” I say to her. “Do you understand? Every inch of your body is mine. From now on, you’re not going to leave my side, and I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers, and I plunge my cock deep inside of her. She cries out with passion. I’m so fucking hard, and she’s so fucking wet. I slide right into her easily, since she’s been keeping herself ready for me with her vibrator all month. Still, she’s so goddamn tight, and I have to fuck her slowly at first, just to get her

used to my size again. But she warms up to me very, very quickly, and soon I’m sliding in and out of her tight little cunt and she’s moaning in my ear, hot and deep. Her moans drive me so fucking crazy. “I’m going to make this pussy sing,” I say. “Fuck your tight pussy, fuck your tight asshole, make you take my every inch. You’ll choke on my cock and thank me for it. You’re my fucking girl, and I’m your Daddy.” “Oh god yes,” she moans as I slide in and out of her. I pin her hands above her head, fucking her harder, ravaging her body. It’s intense and it’s incredible. Neither of us could wait any longer, it’s pretty obvious. She’s writhing and moaning under my touch and I know she’s been ready to blow since the second she came into my apartment. She’s been dripping wet and thinking about this moment for a month, and now my cock is deep inside of her little cunt, and I can tell it’s better than she ever imagined. I fuck her rough and deep, pinning her to my couch. Her wet little pussy slides against me as I rock myself into her, deep and hard. I love the way her breasts shake with each deep thrust, and I take a nipple between my teeth, teasing her.

“Keep going,” she moans. “Gavin, I needed this.” “I needed this too,” I say. “I needed your tight pussy so badly. I’ve been picturing this for the last month, ever since you left.” “Me, too,” she says. “Every second of every day. I’ve been dreaming about your cock fucking me like a bad girl.” “You like being a bad girl?” I ask her, thrusting harder. She moans deep and low, her eyes shut. “You like getting fucked by Daddy?” “Yes,” she admits. “God, yes, I love it.” “Good,” I groan. “Fuck, girl, I’m going to come in this tight pussy. I can’t wait.” “Keep going,” she urges, her hips moving. I love the way her hips roll against me. “Keep going,” she begs. “I’m almost there.” I grip her hands harder, pinning them down, as she comes. I watch her face and her body tense and contract and contort as she comes hard and fast, and it tips me over the edge. I keep fucking her, rough and deep, and I come inside of her, filling her the way just as I needed. We come together, and slowly finish together. I kiss her deeply and hold her, and suddenly I realize that

I’m not just holding her. I’m holding Sadie and my baby. The baby we’re going to have together. Joy floods me as I kiss her neck. She smiles and laughs a little bit, and kisses me back. My cock stirs a bit, and I know she’s in for a long night. I just hope she can handle it. Because I’m going to give her everything I have, just to teach her what she’s in for with me. I think she can handle it.

20

SADIE

I

wake up in Gavin’s bed, feeling a confused combination of happy and terrified.

I’m afraid for obvious reasons. I ran away from my powerful family to be with Gavin, going against their wishes. That would be bad enough, but on top of that, I’m also pregnant with Gavin’s child. But for some reason, that doesn’t really matter to me. I stretch, smiling to myself, as Gavin rolls over and wraps his arms around my hips. “Morning,” he says. “Morning.” I roll around and face him. He kisses me softly on the lips. He’s so damn handsome, even first thing after waking up. “I had a dream about

you.” “Oh yeah?” He grins a little. “I’m sure it was pretty dirty.” “Maybe.” I blush and smile. “Tell me about it over coffee.” He sits up. “You want breakfast?” I nod. “I’m a little hungry, actually. Didn’t eat much yesterday.” “Good.” He gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear him getting ready in there as I sit up against the headboard, looking around his room. For a second, I’m afraid that last night didn’t actually happen, and the whole pregnancy test thing was actually the dream. But as soon as he comes out and looks at me, I know that’s not the case. I know it was all real, far too real. He walks over and kisses me softly. “You okay?” he asks. “Yeah,” I say. “Of course. Totally fine.” He smiles a little. “I know this is weird. And you’re scared. But it’s going to be okay. Everything I said last night still stands.” He kisses me one last time before disappearing back into the kitchen.

I can’t help but grin like an idiot. This handsome, gorgeous, amazing man still wants me, even though I’m pregnant with his child. I can’t believe how good it makes me feel. He wants me and the baby, no matter what happens, and I’m finally starting to see that he means it. The smell of cooking breakfast pulls me from bed. I head into the bathroom and use his toothbrush. When I’m done, I try to fix myself up as best I can. I pull my hair into a messy bun and wash my face, and when I’m finished, I hear voices in the other room. My heart suddenly starts beating fast in my chest. I walk out into the living room, my face only half dry. Gavin is standing in the hallway, and in front of him, my father’s goon Silas is staring at him. “I won’t ask again, Gavin,” he says, his eyes narrowed. “Get out of the way.” Gavin doesn’t move. “Leave,” he says. “Go tell your boss that he can’t have Sadie. If she wants to stay with me, she’s going to stay.” “You’re making a mistake,” Silas says. His gaze flicks over to mine. And that’s when Gavin moves. He strikes out so fast that I almost miss it. His fist catches Silas’s

throat, making a horrifying choking sound. Silas stumbles back, his eyes wide. Gavin doesn’t hesitate. He follows that up with a fist to Silas’s face and a knee to his stomach. Silas shoves Gavin off and tries to fight back, but Gavin attacks harder. He kicks Silas in the knee and slams his fist down into his face, forcing Silas down onto the floor. “Fuck you, motherfucker,” Gavin says as he kicks Silas in the stomach. “You tell your boss to leave her alone.” Gavin grabs Silas by the jacket and drags him out of the apartment. “Gavin!” I yell, terrified. “Please, stop!” Gavin doesn’t listen. He drags Silas into the hall. Silas tries to crawl away but Gavin kicks him one last time. “Don’t come back,” Gavin growls. “Gavin!” I’m breathing so fast, and I’m so afraid, I can barely think. He turns back and takes me by the hand, pulling me back into the apartment. He shuts the door and locks it before shoving my body against the hallway wall and kissing me hard and deep. I can’t believe how excited I feel. I never thought

I’d like watching a man hurt another man, but Gavin did that for me. Silas was going to bring me back no matter what. I know what kind of man Silas is. But Gavin was fast and ruthless, catching Silas off guard. He protected me, and he’s keeping me safe. I kiss him back, needing him so badly. He pulls back and spins me around, dropping to his knees, and pulling my panties off. I gasp as his tongue begins to lick my pussy from behind. “Oh fuck, Gavin,” I gasp. “What’s happening right now?” “I’m licking your fucking pussy,” he says. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” “Oh god,” I groan as his tongue slides inside of me from behind. He licks my every inch, and it’s so goddamn dirty, but it feels so good. He slaps my ass, nice and hard, and I know it’s going to leave a mark, but I like it. He stands and grabs my hips. I feel him pull his own shorts off, and his hard cock presses against me. He slides deep inside of me with one easy thrust, and I gasp as pleasure fills me. Like last night, it doesn’t hurt. Maybe a slight tinge at first, but nothing like the first time.

This is fast and rough. He rocks into me, thrusting, fucking me from behind. I buck my hips back against him, full of adrenaline from the fight. Pleasure fills me, destroying my mind, making me feel so damn good. I can’t believe it. He pins my hands to the wall and fucks me deep as he kisses my neck. “God, I love this fucking pussy,” he says. “You’re mine. Nobody is going to take you away from me. I’ll fucking kill for you, Sadie. This cunt is mine, you’re mine.” “Fuck me, Daddy,” I moan. “Come on. Fuck me.” He groans and pulls my hair as his cock thrusts into me, ramming and fucking my pussy. I work my hips, sliding back along his length, taking his big cock. He pulls my hair harder, tipping my head back, as he hammers into me, fucking my little body. He’s so much bigger than me, he could tear me apart if he wanted. I want him to do it. I want to feel him rip me to pieces. He slaps my ass hard, his cock slamming into me, and I know I can’t take it much longer. I come hard on him as he’s deep inside of me. As soon as I start to come, he grunts and roars his

pleasure, and I feel him fill me. He comes in thick spurts into my tight little pussy as he rams me, fucking me hard. The adrenaline and excitement makes the orgasm so intense that for a second, I think I might collapse. But he holds me up and slowly we come together. When it’s over, I turn and kiss him, long and deep. He pulls me close to his body, breathing fast and deep. “I told you I’d keep you safe,” he says. “I know.” I kiss his lips. He smirks at me. “I can’t get enough of that pussy.” He kisses me again. “Come on. Let’s have some breakfast.” I laugh and shake my head as he leads me into the kitchen. He goes back to making breakfast, and I sit down to watch him. He gives me a small cup of coffee, not too much, since I’m pregnant. I sit there and watch him cook as if nothing just happened, as if he didn’t just beat the shit out of one of my father’s men, as if he didn’t just fuck my brains out in one of the most intense sessions I’ve ever had. I sit there and watch him, feeling so normal, so good, and I hope it never ends.

21

GAVIN

I

f things weren’t real before, they are now.

I’m surprised that I got the drop on Silas, but he probably wasn’t expecting me to actually attack him. As soon as I hit him though, I knew I was going to win the fight. I think that if I have to go up against him again, it will be much harder, but I got lucky this time. I’m not sure how long our luck is going to last. I love having Sadie around my apartment, living with me, but her family is getting more aggressive. They haven’t actually come to the apartment again or gotten in touch with either of us, but her father has stepped up his attempts at sabotaging my business. I’m practically leaking money and resources. I still

have a lot, and I’m not in any serious danger yet, but I’m not sure how long I can last. Maybe six months, maybe a year, something like that. Despite the problems with my business, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I spend half my days in the office and half my days at home with Sadie. Two weeks pass like that, two fucking blissful weeks. We have sex as much as possible, and Sadie is an eager learner. She loves when I push her limits, test her, see what she likes and doesn’t like. She’s intense in a way that surprises me, and she even pushes my boundaries a little bit right back. It’s so impressive. When I first met her, she was a virgin, but after only weeks of having sex, I feel like she’s learned as much as I can possibly teach her. I won’t say that to her, of course. Because I want to keep trying to come up with new ways to make her feel good. After two weeks and one doctor’s appointment, its pretty clear to me that we need some sort of plan. Early Saturday morning, I get up and make her breakfast like I always do, but this time I have something of an ulterior motive. She comes out into the kitchen, smiling. “You know, I’m pretty spoiled by this.” “Didn’t you have a chef back home?”

She grins and nods. “But you’re much better.” “Oh, I’m sure I am.” I give her a plate and a cup of coffee before serving myself and sitting down across from her. I watch her eat for a second, sipping my coffee. She’s so goddamn beautiful and she makes me so happy, which is why I hate that I feel like I have to have this conversation with her. I wish we could just keep going like this as she gets more and more pregnant, and then we’d raise our child together, and just live in bliss. But the real world is still out there, and the real world is very unhappy. “What?” she asks me with a little smile. I smile back. “I want to talk to you about something.” “Uh oh,” she says. “You have your serious face on.” “I don’t have a serious face. All of my faces are serious.” “Well, that’s not true,” she says, laughing. “Your come face isn’t too serious.” I grin at her. “That’s the most serious of all faces, Sadie girl.”

She sighs and leans back in her chair. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” “First I want to tell you something.” I grab her hand and hold it tightly. “Having you here these last two weeks… they’ve been the happiest two weeks of my life. Do you understand that?” She nods, smiling, and squeezes my hand back. “I feel the same way.” “Good. So now you understand why it’s so hard for me to say that I think you need to go home.” She pauses, very surprised, and slowly pulls her hand away. “What?” she asks. “Why?” “Not permanently,” I say quickly. “Hell, not even for very long. But Sadie, you need to tell your family that you’re pregnant.” She lets out a sharp breath. “I thought you were kicking me out.” “I’m not,” I say. “I promise. But you do need to tell your parents, and I think it’ll be best if you do it in person.” “I don’t want to go back there,” she says quietly. “Do you have any idea how they’ll react?” “They’re probably pretty fucking mad already,” I say, grinning. “I did beat the shit out of one of their

workers.” She bites her lip and looks down at her place. “I know that. My brothers have been calling me every day since I left.” “Peter too?” I ask. “Peter too,” she confirms. “Not answering has been hard. But it’s the right thing for me.” “You can’t hide this forever,” I say. “We don’t need their support or their blessing. But we do need them to understand.” “Why?” she asks suddenly, almost pleading. “You know they’ve treated me like a dog for years, right? This is the safest I’ve ever felt. This is the most free I’ve ever been.” “I know,” I say softly, and it breaks my heart just a little bit. “And so far, they haven’t really tried to bring you back. But they will, sooner or later, and they’ll try hard.” “You can keep me safe,” she says. “You’re right, I can. And legally speaking, you’re an adult, so you can do whatever you want. But we both know your family doesn’t need to follow laws.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair to look at her. “If they understand why you’re here, why

you’re with me, we may be able to stay together.” She looks at me quietly for a second and I can tell that she’s been wrestling with this ever since she came to me. Despite everything with her family, Sadie does love them, or at least she loves her brother Peter. Her parents haven’t treated her well, but she was raised to take pride in her family and to believe that the family’s best interests were more important than her own. So it must be incredibly difficult now to go against all of that. Frankly, maybe it’s easy to think she’s just a silly rich girl with nothing at all, but I see so much more. She’s strong. Just getting away from her family takes strength. She gave up so much by running away. I know I’ll never fully understand. Not only will she likely be removed from the will and the family, leaving her with nothing financially, she also lost her identity as a Tillman. Her family is more than just a family, it was her whole life, the person she was born and bred to be. And yet she saw how unhappy it all made her, and she ran away. She figured it out, and now she’s here. It’s impressive, no matter what people might think. I admire her.

Now it’s time to go back, which is probably the hardest thing she’ll ever have to do. “I know you’re probably right,” she says finally. “But I’m afraid to go back. I’m afraid they’ll force me to stay. I’m afraid they’ll make me do something that I don’t want to do.” I nod slowly, looking at her seriously. “I won’t let them keep you if you don’t want to stay,” I say softly. “And if you decide that’s what you want, then I’ll support you. They’ll never lock you up again, Sadie. I promise you that.” She sighs. “We really need to do this, don’t we?” “We really do,” I say. “Okay.” She sits up and nods her head, “Fine, alright. We’ll do it. We’ll go see my parents. How hard can it be, right?” “It’s the simplest thing in the world,” I say. “Right. I’ll just look at them and say, ‘Hey guys, this man you hate, he got me pregnant. And I’m keeping it. And I’m staying with him now. Bye!’ It’ll go over well.” I grin at her. “I think your dad might have a heart attack. His pure, virginal, perfect daughter is sullied by a commoner like me.”

“You joke, but he really does think that.” She makes a face, “It’s like because you were born without money, you’re somehow… evil? Or not as good, at least. Like only the chosen people are rich.” “It’s a mindset I’ll never understand.” “Makes it easy for him to hate poor people. And to do things that don’t help them. I don’t think he sees poor people as actual humans.” I sigh and shake my head. “Come on, Sadie. Don’t dwell too much. We’ll go, break the news, and then leave.” “Simple,” she says, and she’s quiet for a second. Then she looks up at me and grins. “Better hope Silas isn’t there.” I grin right back. “He better hope he’s not there.” I flex a little and she laughs. But beneath that laugh, I can already see a hint of fear, creeping in beneath her strong exterior.

SHE FIDGETS the whole elevator ride up to her parents’ apartment. I hold her hand the whole time, trying to help keep her calm, but there’s only so

much we can do. After our conversation in the morning, she went right into her room and called her father. She told him that we want to meet, but wouldn’t say more, and he agreed to have us back at the apartment. We both agreed that it’s better not to wait. And so just a few hours after making the decision, we’re riding in the elevator up to her family home, the place she grew up. “It’s going to be okay,” I say to her. “I’m here with you.” “I know.” She takes a deep breath. “It’ll be fine. My father can’t do anything.” “No, he can’t. Not with me here.” She nods her head, but looks uncertain. It’s okay though. I’m going to be strong for both of us. Maybe she’s afraid and nervous, but I promised her that I won’t let them take her or hurt her anymore, and I’m going to keep that promise. The elevator dings when it reaches their floor. I glance at her. “Ready?” I ask. “Nope,” she says as the door slide open.

We walk forward down a short hallway to their front door. Sadie pauses, then knocks softly. “Feels weird to knock,” she says. I don’t say anything, I just squeeze her hand. A few seconds later, a man opens the door. He’s in his late forties, maybe early fifties, and I don’t recognize him. “Hey, Thomas,” Sadie says. The man smiles with genuine pleasure. “Miss Sadie, I’m glad you’re back.” He gestures for us to step inside. I assume Thomas is a man that works for her family. He gives me a nod, though his smile isn’t as genuine when he turns it on me. That doesn’t matter. These people probably all think I’m the devil or something, here to steal away their pure little girl. Too bad their little girl isn’t pure at all, and probably never was. I got a taste of what’s inside of her, and now I know that she’s a dirty, filthy girl, and she likes it that way. “Your father is waiting in his study,” Thomas says to Sadie. “Thank you.” She gives him another smile. He doesn’t follow as we head off into the house.

I can’t help but grin a little bit. Sadie gives me a weird look. “What?” she asks. “Nothing,” I say. “Just never met a girlfriend’s dad before.” She pauses a second. “Girlfriend?” I shrug. “What else would I call you?” “Illegitimate baby momma,” she says. I grin. “You’re that, too.” She squeezes my hand and suddenly she seems less nervous. We head down the hall and I can’t help but look around. The apartment looks like it was decorated at the turn of the century. Old oil paintings cover the walls, and priceless statues sit on pure marble pedestals. It’s a far cry from the place where I grew up. I can’t even imagine living in this apartment. It’s more like a museum than a home. We pass a few other doors and other staff members before finally stopping outside a pair of big double doors. “Dad’s study,” she says. “You ready?” I nod. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“Nope,” she says, and she pushes open the doors. Hans Tillman, Sadie’s father, is a severe man. I don’t know any other way to describe him. He has thinning blond hair turning gray, which makes it look almost white. His light blue eyes turn instantly onto his daughter but no smile or any outward sign of recognition flashes across his face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was looking at a stranger. “Hello, Sadie,” he says. “I was hoping you’d come alone.” “I needed Gavin to be here for this,” she says. Tillman raises an eyebrow. “For this? I assumed you were just coming home to apologize for running off with that man.” He doesn’t even bother to look at me. “Father, this is important. Is mother home?” He shrugs. “She’s here somewhere.” “Can you call her? It’s important.” He looks at her for a second before pushing a button. “Thomas, bring Regina down here, please.” We stand there in an awkward silence. Tillman turns back to whatever he was doing on his

computer. I glance at Sadie and she rolls her eyes. She’s probably used to these stupid little power games. Regina Tillman appears moments later. She sweeps into the room and instantly goes to stand next to her husband. Unlike Hans, Regina glares at me, openly hostile and not trying to hide it. “Mother, father,” Sadie says. “I have something important to say.” Regina glares at me. “Does he need to be here?” “Apparently so,” Hans says. “Regina, please. Let the girl speak.” Sadie clears her throat. “I don’t know how else to say it, so I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant, and Gavin is the father.” A stunned silence falls across the room. Her father doesn’t react, but her mother’s face contorts into a mixture of agony and pure anger. “How could you?” she hisses. “With this, this, lowclass trash?” Her mother looks like she might pass out from rage. “It just happened,” Sadie says. “And I’m keeping the baby. I just wanted you two to understand why I left.”

“I’m going to support her,” I say. “And the baby.” Regina Tillman’s gaze falls upon me and I can tell she wants my head to explode. “Do not speak, you gutter rat,” she says. I smirk at her. Hans puts a hand on his wife’s back. “Regina, please,” Hans says. “Calm yourself.” He turns back to Sadie. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asks. She nods once. “I’m sure.” Hans sighs. “You stupid little girl,” he says. I clench my fists. I can handle them insulting me, but I can’t take it when they talk to her that way. “I’ve given you everything,” Hans continues. “I expected only a modicum of loyalty and some poise. Instead, you’re unwed and pregnant by some upstart rat nearly twice your age.” Hans shakes his head. “I am disappointed in you, Sadie. I always thought you were a pathetic little girl, but now I see that you’re stupid as well.” “Don’t talk to her that way,” I say, unable to stop myself. “You pompous ass.” His gaze turns to me and a smile spreads across his face. “How’s business, Gavin?” I keep myself calm as Sadie looks at me, horrified.

“Business is fine, Hans.” “Good, good,” he says. “I wouldn’t want it to get bad for you.” “Threats won’t work,” I say to him softly. “I’m respecting Sadie, something you’ve never done. This is her choice.” “Her choice?” Hans barks a single laugh. “She’s a child, Gavin. She’s too stupid to know what’s best for her. I want her to marry someone appropriate who can take care of her and give her what she needs, someone with good breeding so that her children may also be quality people. But you? You’re just trash. And your child will be trash as well.” The look on Sadie’s face tells me everything. It’s pure horror and loathing. This was a mistake. I don’t know what I expected, maybe something like this. But her parents are nastier, more horrible than I ever could have imagined. Her father’s insane eugenics-like idea of breeding the rich with the rich is just shy of insane, and most certainly it’s sick. I take Sadie’s hand in mine. “Come on,” I say softly to her. “Let’s go.” “Oh no, you don’t,” Regina says, coming around

the desk. “Dear,” Hans says sharply. “Stop it. Let the girl go.” Sadie lingers for a second. “Can I see Peter?” Her father shakes his head. “If you want to go, then go. If you want to stay, you will do as I tell you. This is your choice.” She pauses for a second, and I can see the pain so clear on her face. I wish I could protect her from this too, but I can’t. Finally, she turns. We walk together back through the doors, her mother and her father disappearing behind us. We go straight back out the front door, and she doesn’t cry until we get into the elevator.

22

GAVIN ONE MONTH LATER

I

t’s late when I finally get to leave the office. I’m dealing with a tidal wave of shit that’s been slowly threatening to consume everything, mostly because of that Tillman fuck, but I can handle it. I have to handle it. For Sadie and the baby. I’ve never had someone live with me before. I always thought it would be pretty awful. But truth is, I love having Sadie around the house. The work stuff is bullshit and stressful and hard, but as soon as I get home every day, I’m reminded of why I’m doing this, and it’s all worthwhile. Today is no exception. I unlock the door and step inside, and there’s Sadie. She grins at me a little bit as I shut the door behind me and turn to face her.

She’s wearing only a thin white t-shirt, practically see-through, and her nipples are hard. “Tough day?” she asks. She walks over to me and lifts her arms up to wrap them around my neck, and I can’t help but notice she’s not wearing any panties. I smile a little. “No worse than any other day.” “Good.” She kisses me softly. “You sounded stressed earlier.” “You know. Just the usual shit.” “My father still giving you a hard time?” “Still trying to destroy me,” I confirm. She pouts a little bit. “Poor Gavin. What can I do to make it better?” I smirk at her and put my hands on her hips. “I don’t know.” She kisses my neck then drops down to her knees. I watch as she unbuckles my belt and my cock is hard as fuck by the time she has my boxer briefs down around my ankles. She strokes my thick cock and looks up at me. “I could get used to this,” I say to her.

“I’m sure you can,” she says. “You’re stressed. I thought maybe I could help with that by doing what I do best.” “You mean by sucking my cock?” “That’s right, Daddy.” I groan as she takes my cock in her mouth. She’s gotten so fucking good at that as she slowly slides it deep down into her throat. I lace my fingers through her hair as she begins to suck my tip, sliding her hand along the shaft. She’s so fucking sexy. This is my life now. She doesn’t always suck me off after work, but it’s something new every day. Whether I’m tying her up in the bedroom, or fucking her tight little asshole, or pressing her breasts against the windows as I fuck her over the city, she’s insatiable. I wasn’t sure if the pregnancy would change anything, but she’s handling it so well. In fact, she once told me that she feels better than she ever has, like she has a purpose now, and it’s growing inside of her every single day. “Fuck, Sadie girl,” I groan as she takes me deep into her throat again. I press her head down, holding her there, fucking moaning as my cock fills her little throat.

She pulls back, saliva covering my cock, and jerks me fast. “I want to make you feel good, Daddy,” she says, pouting up at me. “Does it feel good?” “It feels fucking incredible,” I say, practically a growl. “Suck that cock, girl. Fucking choke on it.” She moans and takes me back into her mouth again, sliding up and down, sucking me faster. I press her down then let her back up, alternating between sucking my tip and deep-throating my whole cock. As she sucks me, every single thing goes away. All of my stress disappears. I feel so fucking good as she works me, sucking her Daddy’s cock, my pregnant Sadie girl. She sucks me faster and faster and I can feel the glow growing. “Swallow my fucking come,” I say to her. “Yes, Daddy,” she says, sucking me even faster. I come hard in her mouth, and she doesn’t even hesitate to swallow every drop. She cleans it up with her tongue when I’m finished. “Fucking hell,” I say. She stands up, smiling. “All better?” “All better,” I say, grabbing her and kissing her deeply.

She laughs when I’m done and I head inside. I drop the mail on the counter along with my briefcase, then I head back into the bedroom. “What do you want for dinner?” I call out to her. “I was thinking about ordering some Indian food.” I pull on some clean boxers and jeans. “Or we can go out somewhere. Or I can cook. Whatever you want.” Once I’m dressed, I head back out into the kitchen. Sadie is standing at the counter, staring at a piece of paper. A torn open envelope is on the counter in front of her. “Sadie?” I ask. “What’s wrong?” Her face is stuck in a mask of horror, fear, and disbelief. She looks up at me slowly. “It’s a letter,” she says. “What does it say?” I ask gently. She hesitates a second. “Here, take it.” She thrusts the piece of paper at me. I take it from her hands, frowning. The letterhead is from a major law firm in the city, one of the best, if not the best. The name at the bottom is hand signed, and it’s one of the names of the founding partners.

I know what this is without even having to read it. I skim through the legal jargon and read enough just to get a sense of what the letter means. I put it down on the counter with a sigh and pull her against me. “You’re going to be okay,” I say to her. “I didn’t expect this so soon.” “I know. But we’ll get through it.” “Why are they like this?” she asks me, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know.” “I mean, I get being angry. And upset. I hoped maybe they’d come around. But they want to kick me out of the family, Gavin, and not just informally. They want to make it legal. They want to bury me.” I nod and hold her tightly. The letter basically said that her father wishes to set up a meeting to go over her status as a member of the family. It goes on to say a bunch of other legalistic jargon, but if you read between the lines, she’s pretty much right. Her family wants to get rid of her, and they want to do it for real. That surprises even me. I know her family is a bunch of bloodsucking assholes that only care about their name and their fortune. They don’t give

a shit about Sadie at all. But part of me thought they’d at least wait until the baby was born to disown her. But no, apparently they gave her one month, and now she’s done. I think I understand why she’s upset. It’s not about the money, although of course part of her is angry about that. Her two brothers will get even more from the estate now because she’s been written out. And even Peter hasn’t reached out to her, which I know is tearing her up inside. No, it’s really just about her family. She always thought she was a member of their tribe, a part of their family, an important person in their lives. She’s a daughter and a sister to them, and yet now they’re formally kicking her out. Family is supposed to be something you’re stuck with no matter what, even if you hate your family, they’re still family. That never changes. But apparently that’s not the case with the Tillmans. Apparently, if you make a mistake, and then you go against their wishes, they just kick you out. “What am I going to do?” she asks me. I gently let her go and sit her down at the counter

“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” I say finally. “I have a lawyer and I can get him involved if you want.” “No,” she says quickly. “God, no. I don’t want to get into that.” “Sadie,” I say softly. “They want to take everything from you.” “I know,” she says, a little angry. “And not just the money. They want to take my identity away. They want to erase me.” I nod and cross my arms. “Which is why maybe we should fight them.” “To what end?” she asks me, her eyes wide. “What can we possibly achieve by going up against my family?” “I don’t know,” I admit slowly. “I really don’t know.” “And I know they’re bleeding you dry, too,” I say. “Maybe if I do this, they’ll leave you alone.” “We can’t be sure of that. And if you do walk away, you’ll be giving it all up. Forever. There’s no going back.” “I know.” She stares at the counter. “Peter still hasn’t called me, you know. Of everyone, I thought

he’d call.” “Why not try calling him?” I ask a little hesitantly. “And say what? ‘Oh hello Peter, it’s me, your disgraced sister Sadie. How’s it going?’ I don’t think so.” “That doesn’t sound too bad to me.” I give her a little grin. She just shakes her head. “I can’t do it. They’ve basically thrown me out already, haven’t they? Now they just want to make it official.” “Sadie.” I walk around the counter and sit down next to her. “I support whatever decision you make. But don’t you just… don’t you want to make the fuckers bleed, just a little bit?” She shakes her head. “No. They’re still my family.” “Fuck,” I say, sighing. “After all this, you still want to hold back? Let me hire a lawyer. Let me go after them, drag them through the fucking mud. Who knows? Maybe they’re afraid of a fight, and we’ll win.” “I don’t want to win,” she says. “I don’t want to fight them. I just want to be done with them. I want to get away from them. They want to suck me back in, but I can’t do it.”

I nod slowly. I guess I understand that. If it were me, I’d fight them just out of spite, just to make them squirm. I’m not entirely convinced that I’m not going to do just that. I think I could make Tillman’s fucking life miserable in court. I may be hurting right now, but I’m still fucking rich, and I can still wield considerable funds against him. And I know he won’t like that shit. But Sadie doesn’t want it. I wish it were different, but she’s special. She’s a better person than I’ll ever be, that’s for sure. “So what now?” I ask her. She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess we go to this meeting.” “They want to hold it at your father’s apartment,” I say, pointedly not calling it her home. She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter where.” “Okay then.” I pause, then take her hand and look deep into her eyes. “Listen to me, Sadie. I need you to know something.” She looks at me, and I can see the sadness deep inside of her. She’s losing everything for this, for our baby and for me. Everything she’s known and loved is being torn away by her spiteful and angry parents. What’s she left with?

Hopefully, freedom. And happiness. “What?” she asks softly. “I know you feel like you’re losing your family. But I’m your family now. Me, you, and our baby. We’ll be a family.” She smiles slightly. “Really?” “Really,” I say. “I’ll take care of both of you. Always. We won’t be Tillmans, but we’ll be our own thing. We can be happy.” “Yeah,” she says. “You can do whatever you want. Go to school, paint, start a charity, I don’t care. I’ll support whatever you want.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “You can be free with me.” “Yeah,” she says again, and this time she seems more sure of herself. “I was never going to be free back home. I was going to be Milo’s wife.” She laughs a little ruefully. “You dodged a bullet.” I can’t help but grin. “Come here,” she says, pulling me in for another kiss. I return her kiss, although inwardly I don’t know how this is going to shape out. We have one more

meeting with her family. Last time, it went pretty fucking awful, but this time might be different. Or it’ll be terrible again, but we’ll survive it. We’ll survive this and be together, because I wasn’t lying when I said that we’re a family now. I’ll take care of her always, and I’ll try to make damn sure that she’s happy, no matter what.

23

SADIE

E

ven after a month has passed, I can still remember that afternoon in my old apartment when we told my parents that I’m pregnant. I keep reliving that moment. My mother’s scorn was palpable, and I could feel my father’s disappointment in my bones. I wish I could go back and say something, anything, that would make them understand that this isn’t just some stupid childish fling. I wish I could make them really see how I feel about Gavin. But I can’t and I won’t. Not after what they said to me. And not after that letter. I look over at Gavin and force myself to smile. We’re on the elevator up to the apartment again,

though this time we’re only meeting with my father. I doubt my mother even knows we’re coming, Gavin smiles back and squeezes my hand, just like before. He’s been so good through all of this. I never imagined I’d have someone who could keep me as centered and as grounded as he can, but it’s exactly what I need. He calms me when I’m stressed and makes me feel like everything is going to be okay in the future. Even when the future seems terrifying, he’s there for me. I don’t know a damn thing about having a baby. I don’t know how to raise one. I’ve never even held one. But Gavin bought all the books and even read them, and I know he’s going to be a good father. He’s changed over the last month, in subtle ways, but they’re noticeable. He doesn’t go out with his friends as often and he doesn’t drink as much. He works out even more and seems very intent on the future. He’s stressed with work, of course, since my father is trying to destroy him, but he’s still there for me. And he wants me to fight. I have to admit that it’s tempting. I don’t want my family’s money. I don’t want a single freaking dime from them at all. But I don’t want to make this easy on them either. I want it to be difficult to kick me out of the family,

because it should be. It shouldn’t be easy to send me away and to forget about me. I was their daughter for so long. And maybe I made some mistakes, at least in their eyes, but I’m still their daughter no matter what. Of course, they don’t see me that way, and they never did. It’s hard to accept that, really and truly accept it, even though I know it’s the truth. That’s what I’m here for today, though. I’m going to accept my place in the world. I’m going to accept that my family doesn’t want me and that I’m making a new family with Gavin, one where I’m going to be much happier. “Ready?” Gavin asks when the elevator reaches the top floor. “Ready,” I say, feeling anything but. We step out and head down the hall. Like before, I knock on the door, feeling awkward. But instead of Thomas opening up, Peter stands there. I look back at him, surprised. He looks like the same old Peter, but instead of his usually sly smile for me, he stares blankly. “You’re right on time,” he says. “Hi, Peter,” I respond. “It’s good to see you.”

He nods. “Father’s in his study.” I glance back at Gavin as we follow Peter into the apartment. Of everything that has happened, the way Peter’s acting toward me right now hurts the most. We follow him down the hall and he doesn’t look at me again, like I’m some stranger visiting instead of the sister he’s been so close with for so long. “Hold on,” I say to Gavin. “Can you wait here?” He pauses. “Sure,” he says. I turn to Peter, who looks a little surprised. “Can I talk to you?” I ask him. He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. Sure.” I lead him into the dining room and shut the door behind us. I turn to him and for a second, I think that I see the brother I once loved so much. “I’ve missed you,” I say to him. “I’m sorry things are so weird right now.” He glances away. “Why’d you do it?” “Do what?” “Get pregnant. By that… person.” I frown and shake my head. “I didn’t meant to get

pregnant. And I like Gavin… I like him a lot. He makes me happy.” “Still.” Peter looks back at me and I think he might be pleading with me. “The family comes over everything. You know that.” “They were going to marry me off to Milo,” I say softly. “Doesn’t what I want count at all?” “No,” Peter says firmly. “It doesn’t count for any of us. You know that. And you’re still turning your back on us.” “I’m not,” I say. “I’m not turning my back at all. Father is forcing me to leave.” “If you got rid of that… thing, you could stay.” I stare at him, shocked. How could Peter, my loving brother, say something like that to me? “It’s my baby,” I say flatly. “It’s a mistake.” He stares at me again with that blank expression. “Come on. Father’s waiting.” Peter opens the doors and steps back out into the hall. I watch him for a second then follow, biting back my tears. I won’t freaking cry. I won’t give them the satisfaction.

But that moment back there, that was the end. He was my last hope. Part of me hoped that Peter was still somehow on my side, despite everything, and that he’d make it all okay. He used to do that all the time when I fought with Michael, back when we were kids. We’re not kids anymore. And Peter isn’t my brother. “Go right in,” Peter says as we reach my father’s study. I don’t look at him as he walks past me and disappears back into the apartment. Gavin takes my hand again. “You okay?” he whispers. “What did he say?” “Nothing,” I answer. “Let’s get this over with.” Gavin frowns but doesn’t argue. I open the doors and we step into my father’s office. Hans Tillman looks up as we enter. He’s sitting behind his desk just like last time. We walk straight in and sit down in the chairs in front of his desk like it’s some business meeting. He arches his fingers in front of him and looks at me. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “I had no other choice.” He smiles a bit. “You always have a choice, Sadie.”

“Well, here I am. Let’s talk.” “I don’t feel like dragging this out anymore, so I’m going to get right to the point.” Father looks at Gavin and smiles a bit. “You’re hurting right now. I know that. You’re angry with me and my family, and your business isn’t doing so hot. Am I right?” Gavin hesitates then nods. “You’re right.” “You probably want to fight this,” father says. “I do,” Gavin confirms. “Here’s what I’ll offer. If Sadie accepts a complete and utter separation from the Tillman family, including changing her surname to something else, then I will back off your businesses and leave the two of you alone. Provided you never enter into our lives again.” Gavin stares at my father then looks at me. “I’d turn him down right now if I were you,” he says. “But it’s your choice.” I stare at my father, at the lines on his face, at the wrinkles forming. He looks older than he did a month ago, somehow frailer. I don’t know why but I suddenly see him as the man he’s always been, a mean and spiteful man, but not as my father. That façade is gone now, and he’s just Hans Tillman.

That makes what I say next easy. “Okay.” Both men look at me. Gavin seems sad, but not surprised, while my father seems genuinely shocked. “Okay?” he asks. “You agree to all of my terms?” “Yes,” I say. “I want to leave this family. I don’t want your money. If I fought, it would just be out of spite, but I’m done with that. I don’t want to be like you anymore. So I’ll sign any documents you want and I’ll change my name, as long as you leave us alone just as we’ll leave you alone.” Hans Tillman stares at me for a second then nods slowly. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t seem triumphant. In fact, he just seems tired. “Very well,” he says. “It’ll all be in writing. I’ll have my lawyers send over the paperwork as soon as possible.” “Good,” I say. “Are we done here?” He hesitates before nodding. “We’re done here.” “Have a good life, Hans,” I say, standing. He watches me, but doesn’t answer. Gavin takes my hand and we leave the office

without another word. I manage to make it out into the elevator before I start crying. “It’s okay,” Gavin whispers. “It’s okay. It’s over now.” He pulls me in close and holds me as we sink back down toward the street. “I just want you to know, I’m not crying about what happened back there,” I say as we finally reach the lobby. I get myself together as we walk across the marble floor. “I’m really not.” “Why are you crying, then?” he asks me, holding my hand as we step out into the warm city afternoon. “I’m sad for the person that I used to be,” I say. “I’m sad for that naïve girl. But I’m really, really happy that this is what happened. I’m happy it’s with you.” He smiles at me and kisses me softly. “Come on, I want to show you something.” I follow him as we walk down the sidewalk. “Where are we going?” I ask. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.” We pass by familiar shops, restaurants, and churches. This was my neighborhood once, although it’s not anymore. I’ll miss parts of it and

won’t miss other parts, but it’ll always be important to me. We walk a few blocks and ahead I can see the park rising up in the middle of all the concrete. He strides up to the streetlight that I used to stand under when he’d come pick me up after I snuck out. I join him there, smiling a little bit. “This is familiar,” I say. “It wasn’t so long ago that you stood there, waiting for me,” he says. “You risked a lot for that.” “I didn’t see it that way.” “Maybe,” he says. “I just wanted to be happy. And I am now.” “Well, there’s one thing I’m happy about. And it’s that your father wants you to change your name.” I sigh and shake my head. “It’s so petty. But I guess I get to make up my own surname, which is kind of cool, right?” He nods. “If that’s what you want. But I have a better idea.” My heart starts hammering in my chest and I feel dizzy as Gavin drops to one knee in front of me.

“Sadie, I told you I want to start a family with you. And I want to do it the right way. I want this to be real.” “Gavin,” I say, but can’t find any other words. “I’m glad you have to change your last name, because I want you to take mine.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small black box. He flips it open, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring. “Sadie, will you marry me?” I stare at him in total shock. I didn’t know he wanted to get married. I always assumed he thought marriage was impossible, or that he just didn’t want to do it. But as he kneels down in front of me, holding out that beautiful ring, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for all my life. “Yes,” I whisper. He takes my hand and slides on the ring. It fits perfectly, which shouldn’t surprise me. Gavin doesn’t do anything halfway. He stands and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “I love you, Sadie girl,” he says. “I love you too,” I answer, then I get up on my tiptoes so that I can whisper in his ear. “Daddy.” He crushes my mouth with a kiss and joy spreads

through my whole body. In one day, I lost one family, but I gained another. I’m going to be Sadie Waller, forever and ever. We’ll raise our child together, and I’ll be happy and free. Finally, I’ll be happy and free. I lose myself in the kiss and I find myself with the man that I love.

24

SADIE ONE YEAR LATER

“H

old still!” I giggle as I pull off Joanie’s diaper.

“Stinky,” I say. Joanie squirms as I clean her off and put on a fresh diaper. I pick her up and kiss her. “All better,” I say. “How’s my little poop machine?” I turn to Gavin and grin at him. “She’s healthy, that’s for sure.” “Give her over.” He reaches out and I hand Joanie off. Gavin laughs and cuddles her close, and Joanie giggles and looks around. He carries her out into the living room and I follow.

It’s so quiet in our neighborhood. Ever since we moved out of the city and into the suburbs, into this gorgeous little estate right on the edge of town, I’ve had to get used to how calm things are. But I love it. I love our new house and our little baby. Gavin has slowly been hiring some staff to help out, and I’ve been making friends with some young moms in the area. I took up painting and joined a book club, though Joanie takes up most of my time. “Can’t complain, right?” Gavin remarks as I join him on the couch. “Sure can’t,” I agree. He’s been saying that a lot lately, which only makes me so happy. After my father sent over the papers and I signed away my rights to the Tillman fortune, we got married almost right away. I took Gavin’s name, officially making me Sadie Waller, and I never looked back. We don’t speak to my family, as part of the agreement, and my father stopped attacking Gavin’s businesses. Since then, things have been incredible. The pregnancy was hard but good. I felt productive every single day, growing Joanie inside of me. And now that we’re a family, I feel more fulfilled than I ever have before.

Gavin leans over and kisses me softly. “You look gorgeous today, you know.” I grin at him. “Again already?” He shrugs, giving me a look. “Marcia is coming soon.” “In a half hour.” “I can wait. Can you?” I laugh and kiss him a little bit. That part of our relationship hasn’t changed at all. Sex is a constant with us, almost every single day if we can. That intimacy makes me so happy, in a way that I can barely describe. Joanie makes things harder, but we hired Marcia to come every afternoon and help out for a little bit while we have some much-needed private time. Our relationship has changed in other ways, though. We’re closer now. We visit his old neighborhood all the time, and we see Chuck pretty often. He even comes out to visit us in our “suburban wasteland” as he likes to call it. But he’s a good godfather and uncle, so I can’t complain. Sometimes, I miss my brothers, even Michael. I wish they could be in Joanie’s life. I wish Joanie could have grandparents as well, but it doesn’t matter. She’s going to get so much love from me

and Gavin that she’ll never know the difference. Gavin passes me Joanie and stands up. “I’m going to go shower,” he says. “I expect you in there as soon as Marcia shows up. Understood?” I laugh and nod. “Yes, Daddy.” He kisses me softly again, then disappears back upstairs. I hold Joanie up and look at her. “You can do whatever you want in life,” I say softly. “Okay, honey? You’ll be happy. I promise.” She just gazes back at me, but doesn’t say a word. I used to be one of the heirs to the Tillman family fortune, but not anymore. I used to have a social position and I was a member of a very wellrespected family. I had power and wealth and I don’t miss any of it, not even a little bit. I’d give it all up. I’d even give up all of Gavin’s money if I had to. I don’t want a single dime if that means I can’t be free to do what I want. I never want to be part of a family that won’t let Joanie do whatever she wants and be whoever she wants to be. Gavin takes care of me and Joanie. He provides everything we could possibly need and more. He makes me happy. Every day feels like it’s better

than the last, all because I have Gavin in my life. I’m so lucky. I’m so happy I got pregnant with Joanie and I’m so happy that I left my old life behind. Because my new life is so much better than I ever could have guessed. I don’t need to be stuck doing one thing, forced into a life I don’t want. I can make my own family and my own world. All I need are Gavin and Joanie, and I’m happy, forever, for the rest of my life. Nothing will change that, and I know that Gavin will always be there for both of us. Every time I think about him, I can’t help but smile. I just can’t wait for Marcia to get here so that I can go upstairs and let my Daddy make my body feel good.

INTENSE: A DARK BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

PROLOGUE: ARIA

I

test my restraints impatiently then lie back on the bed with a sigh.

It’s been almost a week since he bought me. One week ago, I thought my life was about to change. And it has. It changed more than I could possibly imagine, but not in the ways I expected. He’s mysterious, tall, handsome, dark, and more dominating than I ever could have guessed. He makes me beg and beg for more but never gives me what I want. He makes it feel good in other ways. The bed is enormous with a high, ornate canopy. The soft white silky fabric that hangs down on all sides mutes the light and makes it hard to see the

rest of the beautiful room. My room. He gave me my very own room complete with a bathroom, tiny little sitting area, personal gym, and twenty-four-hour room service. It’s like living in my own little paradise. Except paradise should give me what I want, which he refuses to. He keeps whispering in my ear, soon, soon, just beg a little longer, but each night he leaves me quivering with desire. I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d actually want this more than anything, but now that I do, he just won’t budge. I want him. I want his touch. I bite my lip as I realize how dripping wet I am. I wish I could reach down and touch myself. These last few nights, that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane. But I can’t move since my wrists are tied to the headboard with soft black silk. My heart is hammering in my chest. I want him, but I don’t know when he’ll come. He tied me up, kissed me softly on the lips and then told me to be patient. That was almost a half hour ago. I’m trying to be patient, just like he told me to be, but it’s hard. Actually, it’s impossible. I want him to push apart

the canopy and crawl on top of me. I want him to crush me with his muscular body, pin me down to the bed, have his way with me. I want him to ravish me. After all, that’s why he bought me. I’m supposed to give into his every desire, to pleasure him. Instead, he’s spent this last week teasing me, getting to know me, giving me everything I want. I’m pampered but I’m so frustrated. I perk up suddenly when I hear the door open and close. I hear his footsteps move across the floor, but I don’t say a word. That’s part of the game. I’m supposed to be silent and demure. I’m supposed to do exactly what he says, and if he goes too far, there’s a certain word I can use. It’s our safe word. If I say it, the game stops instantly. But I can’t imagine using it. I want the games. They keep me going. I’m his for a month. He owns me and at first, I hated it. I never wanted to be in this position, but here I am. Now though, I’m not so sure. I’m not positive that I hate this. I don’t hate him, that I’m sure of. Part of me doesn’t like being bought and sold, but part of me finds it so exciting that he owns me completely,

at least for a month. I can sense him standing next to the bed. My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me this time, but I can’t wait to find out. The fabric parts and I stare up into his piercing green eyes, a slight smile on his lips. He leans over me, sitting on the bed, half in and half out of the canopy. He’s wearing a clean white shirt unbuttoned halfway down that’s tucked into a beautiful pair of tailored suit pants. His smile is so delicious. I stare into his eyes, waiting, begging, needing. “You’ve been good,” he says, barely a whisper. He moves closer to me. “Do you know what good girls get?” I shake my head slightly, eyes wide, heart hammering. “They get whatever they want,” he says, still smiling. “What do you want, my little toy?” He pauses and his smile gets bigger. “You may speak.” “You,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “I want you.” “Good.” His thumb moves down my lips. I part my mouth and take his thumb between my teeth. I can

feel my pulse between my legs as his other hand moves slowly down my chest, pausing over my breasts, moving down toward my pussy. “You’ve been so good, little toy, so good,” he says, mouth close to my ear. His hand pauses just above my pussy. I’m completely naked and dripping wet, as vulnerable as I possibly can be, and yet it only makes me that much more aroused. “Do you think you deserve it?” he asks. “Tell me if you do.” “I deserve it,” I say. “I’ve been so patient.” “Yes, you have.” He kisses my ear, nibbles it softly, then kisses my neck. “So patient. So good. I’ve spoiled you enough, haven’t I?” “Yes,” I moan. “I’m spoiled.” He pulls back, a wicked smile on his lips. “I didn’t say you could respond.” I stare, eyes wide, realizing my mistake. He pulls his thumb from between my legs and moves up onto the bed. “Now you’ll need to be punished.” He moves down between my legs, spreading them wide. I practically moan as he looks at my dripping wet pussy, bare and clean for him.

I’m dripping. I’m aching. “Please,” I whisper. “Punish me.” He grins and when he touches my body, my entire world shrinks down to the pressure of his fingers against my skin, and everything goes light.

1

ETHAN ONE WEEK EARLIER

I

lean back in my large black leather chair and look out the wall-sized window, staring out across the city.

It’s the middle of the day and already I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept over the last month as my company, World Line Inc., has gone through some enormous structural changes. We acquired one of our smaller competitors, and in the process we’ve had to change things up to fit their new employees and manufacturing. It’s been exhausting, but the end is almost near. And when we’re finished, World Line will be one of the largest manufacturing tech companies in the world. I sigh, stretching. I crack my neck and lean back,

groaning. I feel like a man twice my age, although I’m only thirty-two. I’ve spent the majority of my life so far, from when I was just a college dropout at the age of twenty to now, building this company and growing it aggressively. I started out with a simple idea, a tweak to the manufacturing process, and grew it into a world-wide conglomerate. I sacrificed a lot to get where I am. The magazines all like to call me the most eligible bachelor under forty, but I rarely ever feel that way. I fucked my way through the socialite scene, because I don’t have time to spend on getting close to women. But where has that left me? I can’t help but wonder sometimes if things would be better if I gave a woman more than just one night. Maybe not a relationship, because I’m not interested in getting fucking tied down, but something. I don’t know what. A friendship, a fuck buddy. Hell, I barely have time for anything outside of the business these days. I lean back and put my hands on the back of my head, sighing. It probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I have enough money to retire and live a rich life at this point, but I know I’m never going to. That’s not the type of man that I am. Settling down isn’t something I want. I work hard and I play hard when I get the time. I live to win

and to dominate everything around me, that’s how I’ve gotten to where I am. Thinking too hard about my life won’t do any good, not at this point. As I’m about to turn back to my desk and get back to these contracts, my cellphone buzzes. I pick it up and unlock the screen, cocking my head at the message. It’s from a blocked number. Which is unusual, because I have my phone set up to block all incoming messages from blocked numbers. But that’s not the weirdest part. As I read the message, I can’t help but think I’ve been transported to some new universe. Dear Mr. Locks, You are cordially invited to bid on the most beautiful women on the market. This auction is only for men of means and power. It is a private event. If interested, simply respond to this message. You were invited by one Mr. Range. See him for any questions. Respond in twenty-four hours. Cordially, The Syndicate. I read the message over twice before I start to understand what it’s saying. It’s an invitation to a human auction. I’ve heard about these things, but only as whispers. It’s said that there are places where only the most attractive

women are sold for high prices and long periods of time. It’s a way to buy a wife or a mistress even, or maybe just a girlfriend for a week. I never went looking for these auctions because I never needed to. I know that some of my peers engage in them, because it’s easier to buy a woman for a week than it is to pick one up, but I usually like the chase. It’s fun to seduce and be seduced. These escorts, they’re just a way to fuck and be done with it. I have no clue why Mack invited me to this auction. Mack Range is one of my closest friends and the owner of a company we often do business with. We’ve been to several parties together and he knows I have no trouble getting women when I want them. Annoyed, I quickly call Mack up. He answers on the third ring. “Locks!” he says. “What do you want? I thought you were too busy to talk right now.” “I just got a really strange message, Mack. From The Syndicate. Know about it?” There’s a pause, and for a second I think we got disconnected. When Mack finally speaks, he sounds hurried and distracted.

“Let’s meet for lunch,” he says. “I’m buying. We’ll talk about it then.” “Mack,” I grumble. “You know I can’t. Just tell me what the deal is with this.” “We can’t talk about it over the phone,” he says softly. “Luciano’s at two. Okay?” I pause, head cocked. What’s so damn important that we can’t talk about it over the phone? But then again, the message did say that it was very private. It wasn’t threatening, not exactly, but there’s always a veiled threat when secrecy is involved. It’s always keep this secret, or else. I have to admit, I’m intrigued. Mack has good taste and has never steered me wrong before. Plus, this secrecy thing has me interested. I want to know more about it now just because I’m not supposed to talk about it. “Fine,” I say. “You’re definitely buying.” “See you then.” He hangs up quickly. I put my phone down and shake my head, not sure what to make of this. It’s out of nowhere. I was at a party with Mack maybe two months ago, before this merger got too insane. We were talking about women and

relationships, and he did say something a little strange. He mentioned paying top dollar for a girlfriend at the time, which I assumed meant that he just pays for lunches and hotel rooms. I laughed and said I was always looking for a deal. Maybe this is what he was talking about. Maybe he meant he literally pays top dollar. I’ve never bought pussy before. I never had to. But then again, Mack never has either, or at least I didn’t think he needed to. He’s around my age, a little less rich, but still pretty handsome. I’ve never seen him struggle bringing a woman home before. If he’s paying for it from these people, it must be serious. Still, the idea of paying for it just seems so strange and foreign to me. The day passes quickly as I dive back into work. It’s one forty-five by the time I look up again and have to practically run downstairs to get into the company car that takes me over to Luciano’s, a little Italian place on the edge of town. I’m uncertain as I climb out of the car and instruct the driver to wait for me. I don’t think I’ll stay the whole lunch, considering the mountain of paperwork I have back at the office waiting for me. Besides, this whole thing is about prostitutes, and I’m just... not that interested.

I feel strangely nervous as I step into Luciano’s. I’m not sure why, since Mack is one of my closest friends, but there’s something about this whole thing that has me on edge. The hostess points me to a private booth in the back corner, away from the normal lunch crowd. I slide into the booth across from Mack. “Didn’t think you’d show,” he says. “I keep my appointments.” He grins and we shake hands. Mack has that young boyish charm about him. His beard is close cropped and trimmed, and he always looks very put together. I remember when he first got started, the guy couldn’t wear anything but sweatshirts and jeans. Now he’s in a three-piece suit with an expensive watch. It’s almost like that programmer punk from back in the day doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve changed over the years, too. I’m just as driven as I once was, but all my youthful naiveté has been beaten out of me. You don’t get this far in business without learning how the world works and how to master it. That inevitably changes a man. “So, what’s good here?” I ask him. “The martinis.” He grins.

“Can’t. I have work to do.” “I bet. All the more reason.” Mack signals at the waitress and she brings over two drinks, obviously already prepared. I sigh and take mine, thanking her, and take a sip. It’s a good martini, and I can’t help but wonder why Mack is buttering me up. “Okay, Ethan,” he says. “Before you yell at me, just listen.” I raise an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to yell.” “You have that look.” “What look?” “You know the one.” He smirks at me. “It’s the ‘I’m a disappointed CEO’ look. Doesn’t work on me, but it can be fucking intimidating anyway.” “Didn’t know I had a look,” I say, laughing. “But go ahead. Give me your pitch.” He leans toward me, getting serious all of a sudden. “The pitch is simple. You won’t be disappointed.” I raise an eyebrow. “That’s it?” He nods. “That’s it. If you do this thing, you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m a little disappointed right now. I expected some kind of hard sell.” “I don’t need to,” he says, shrugging. “Truth is, you’re lucky to get invited.” “Lucky?” I give him a look. “I don’t need to pay for pussy, you know.” “Oh, I know that.” He sips his martini and eyes me. “But that’s not what we’re talking about.” I pause, not sure what he means. “The text said an auction,” I say. “It’s an auction and it’s for women, but it’s not just for pussy.” “What else to they do?” I ask. “Clean your house?” “Maybe,” he says, a serious look on his face. “Truth is, man, they’ll do whatever you want. For as long as you’re paying. And these girls, they’re beautiful. Untouched. Unspoiled. They’re not a bunch of old pros. They’re... special.” I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. He’s talking like he’s in love with these girls or something. They’re still just people, just women, and I can’t imagine that they’re anything amazing. I have to admit, I was picturing a bunch of old and used-up hookers, but that’s probably not fair. High-

end escorts tend to be young and beautiful. But he’s making it sound like these are real virgins or something like that. “Have you gone?” I ask him. “Absolutely.” “Why?” I ask, mystified. “You don’t have trouble bringing women home.” “It’s hard to explain,” he says softly. “When you buy these girls... you own them. It’s like every fantasy you’ve ever had all rolled into one, and you get them for as long as you want them.” “I don’t have time to buy anyone,” I say, laughing again, although Mack doesn’t find it funny. “This just isn’t the time.” “This is the perfect time. Whoever you bring home will be there, in your house, waiting for you. If you don’t touch her, that’s your choice, and it won’t matter. This is no work, no fuss, no bullshit. Just an attractive companion that’s down for anything.” I have to admit, he’s making it sound enticing. Maybe it’s the martini, but I do like the idea of a beautiful woman waiting for me to come home, ready to be dominated and willing to do whatever I ask of her.

I finish my martini in one quick motion. “Last question. This Syndicate. Are they dangerous?” He nods once. “They are. But only if you cross them. If you decide not to attend, just delete the message and never speak of this again. Including to me.” “You’re serious?” I ask. “I’m very serious.” “Okay then,” I say. “This is the last time we’ll talk about it.” I slide out of the booth and stand up. “You’re making a mistake,” Mack says. “I’m not so sure that I am.” “You are.” He stares me in the eye. “Go to the auction. Trust me. You won’t regret it.” I watch him for a second. “I’ll see you later, Mack.” He nods and goes back to his martini as I leave the restaurant and head back outside. The driver is still waiting for me, and I climb into the back of the car. For the rest of the day, I can’t stop thinking about what Mack said. He seemed so earnest, so serious, and it’s hard to ignore that sort of thing. Mack isn’t the type of man to bullshit or exaggerate. If he says

something is a certain way, you can be pretty damn sure that it’s a certain way. Which makes it so intriguing. Even more than that, the fact that The Syndicate is dangerous, and how seriously he takes them, makes me even more fascinated. This is a secret world hiding underneath our world, and I’m being given a glimpse. I can choose to turn back and ignore it all, or I can dive in and join it. I don’t know why I can’t get it out of my head. I have been stressed lately, very stressed, and maybe a little meaningless sex will do me good. I could use the release at the very least. Mack makes it sound like a gift from heaven or something like that, and maybe he’s right. It’s around two in the morning by the time I finish my day’s work and break out a bottle of whisky. I pour a drink into a glass and kick my feet up on my desk. There’s a couch against the far wall and my own private bathroom with a shower, and I know I’ll be sleeping on that couch and showering in that shower again tonight. I could go home, but I have to be here at five anyway. No point in wasting time that I could be using on sleep. But I don’t feel like sleeping. I read the message on my phone again and go over the conversation with Mack as I sip my drink. I keep picturing women,

beautiful women, but that’s not all. I keep seeing this one perfect girl in my head. She’s petite, quiet, maybe even a little shy, but sexy as all hell. She’s willing to do anything for me. She’ll let me dominate her, control her, work her body, and she’ll give back as much as she possibly can. And all I have to do is show up and buy her. No work beyond that. No messy flirting or awkward ending. I buy her, we spend our time together, and then it’s over. No attachment and no issues. The idea of paying for sex still seems strange to me, but I can’t help myself. Everything is pushing me toward this moment. I get out my phone and text the number back, agreeing to their terms. I sit there, staring at my phone, not sure what I just did. But most of all, I’m excited at the prospect of entering into something new. I don’t know what will happen next, but I’m trusting Mack. I hope I’m not disappointed.

2

ARIA

I

don’t know what I’m doing here.

I cross my arms nervously, too aware of my own body, almost mortified of the dress I’m wearing. It’s black, dark like my long hair, and makes my blue eyes look even brighter. It’s tight and low cut in the front and back and leaves very, very little to the imagination. That’s the point, of course, but still. All of the other girls around me are wearing similar dresses, except they’re all gorgeous. Dark-skinned girls, lightskinned girls, red hair and blonde hair and everything else. The girls are from everywhere imaginable, and they’re all absolutely beautiful. Except me, of course. I feel too plain to be standing in this room. I’m just a normal waitress, for fuck’s

sake! Sure, I’ve been living with the girls for a couple weeks, but that doesn’t make me like them. I don’t know how I ended up here, in this place. It’s not that bad, honestly. The Syndicate offered me very, very good terms and they treat me very well. They haven’t pushed me into anything and it was my choice to enter into this auction. I still can’t believe it’s come to this, but I’m desperate, so desperate, and I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to survive. I need money, and I need it fast. It’s as simple as that. I have no other choice but to enter into a contract with a strange man. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get paid. The room is actually very nice. It’s like a lounge area, with tables, chairs, and couches all over. It’s richly furnished and there’s a bar toward the back offering free drinks. We were told not to get too drunk, or else we’d be tossed out, and so most of the girls are just nervously sipping their drinks. I can tell most of them are in the same position as me, very uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, but some seem like they’re regulars. I bite my lip and look down at the lovely carpet, not sure what to do with myself. We’re meant to pass time in this room until our name is called. Once we’re called, we go out into the auction room. I

was told that I’m supposed to just stand there and look straight ahead. I won’t even see the men that are bidding on me until it’s all over. So I’ll see the man that buys me for the first time only after I’m sold to him. I can leave at any time. The Syndicate doesn’t keep us here against our will. They made it clear that they don’t want girls that will make trouble, and everyone has been vetted to the highest level possible. My demons almost kept me out of this place, but in the end they decided that they liked me enough to let it slide. I don’t know why, but I’m happy they did. I think. At the end of this, I might walk away with enough money to pay off my debts completely. I can leave at any time, so this could easily be a one-time deal. The girl that recommended me said that I’d end up wanting to do it forever once the money started, but I don’t know about that. “Nervous?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts and look to my side. A gorgeous girl with blonde hair smiles at me. She’s a little taller than me and wears a tight blue bodycon dress. She looks beautiful and for a second, she makes me a little self-conscious.

“Yeah,” I admit. “I can’t help it.” She smiles. “Me too.” “What are you nervous about? You’re gorgeous.” She laughs lightly. “Thanks. But I’ve never done this before.” “Really?” I ask. “I haven’t, either.” “Please. You look way too sexy to be a first timer like me.” “I am,” I say, suddenly relieved that someone is talking to me. Over toward the door, another name is called out, and a tall girl walks out of the room. “I’m Lisa,” my new friend says. “Aria.” “Pretty name.” She looks around the room. “How do you think... this works?” she asks. “What do you mean?” “I mean, what if nobody bids on me?” “Oh,” I say. “I don’t know. I guess you just go home.” “Can it be that simple?” I shrug. “So far, I think so. They’re nice.”

“They are very nice,” she says. “Did you know that only rich men can bid on us?” “I didn’t, actually,” I say, a little surprised. “Yeah, that’s what I heard. This is only for very wealthy men. It’s why we’re treated so well. They don’t want a bunch of abused girls getting involved with these men. We’re supposed to be professionals.” “I don’t feel like a professional,” I admit. “I just feel nervous.” “Yeah,” she says, laughing lightly. “Me too. But we’ll get through this, right?” I nod. “Right. Of course.” Just talking a little bit to Lisa loosens me up a little bit. She smiles at me. “We’ll talk later. Good luck. There’s a glass of wine with my name on it.” “Thanks. You too.” She walks off toward the bar and I watch her go. My mind drifts back to the task at hand and the temporary reprieve from the nervousness is suddenly gone, and it floods back in. But I don’t have long to wallow in it, because a couple minutes after Lisa walks away, the man at the door calls my name.

“Aria!” It pierces through me like an arrow. I freeze, unable to breathe, as I stare at the man. He looks around the room for a second, eyebrow cocked, and I can’t move. I’m petrified. “Aria!” he says again. “You’re up!” I take a step. And then another. And soon I find myself walking quickly toward him. Being careful in my high heels. They make my ass look great but they hurt my feet like crazy. He nods and takes my elbow. “This is easy,” the man says. He’s young, maybe in his thirties, with a long ponytail and a thin face. “I’m going to put you in a room right in the middle. Then a bunch of lights will come on. You stand there and wait. Men will be looking at you, so don’t pick your nose. You’ll be asked to turn, please obey. When it’s done, you’ll be taken into another room where you’ll meet your client. Understand?” “I understand,” I say. “But how long will they get me?” “Let’s see,” he says, looking at his clipboard. “You’re up for... one month.” “One month?” I ask, surprised.

“That’s the minimum amount.” He shrugs. “You’ll do fine.” “One month,” I repeat, shocked. I assumed it was for a few days, maybe a couple weeks. But a whole month? I don’t have a chance to argue, because we step into another room and he takes me into the middle. He places me there. “Good luck,” he says. “They’re watching now.” He turns and leaves. The room is dark, very dark, except for some lights in the floor. I think there are mirrors all around me, but I can’t be sure. I see vague outlines of figures, maybe ten of them. A minute later, a bright light flares on, spotlighting me and blinding me to everything else. I can hear some murmuring, like conversations happening far away, but I can’t understand them. I fold my hands in front of me and wait, trying not to freak out. What the hell am I doing? I don’t know the first thing about being an escort, let alone being one for an entire month. They explained it to me at the beginning, that I’d be bought by a man and that I’d do whatever he wants for however long he gets me. I’d take home seventy percent of the money, which

is generous considering how much we’re sold for, although I’m not really sure exactly how much that is. I assume it’s a lot, but I don’t really know anything. Then, once I’m bought, I service him. Some men want sex, some want companionship, and very rarely men want something in between. I’m to provide whatever he needs. That will be my job for the duration of my stay with him. I’m his property. Unless he hits me, hurts me, or threatens me in any way that makes me uncomfortable. I can text a number that’s basically my SOS with The Syndicate, and they’ll come help me if anything strange happens. There’s another number that I text just saying that I’m okay, and if I don’t contact them at least once a day, they’ll send someone to check on me. In short, I’m safe, and I’m about to be some man’s property. I can hear more talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying. I wish I could hear them. I wish I could see them. What if he’s unattractive? I can fake it, of course. I can handle that. But what if he wants something that I can’t do? It’s possible that I won’t make him happy. I don’t want to fail at this. I have no other options.

“Aria, please turn.” The voice is sudden and startles me. After a second, I turn around. “Spread your legs, please.” I obey, spreading my legs wide. “Thank you. Turn back around and stand naturally, please.” I listen again, turning all the way around and get back into my normal stance. I feel strange. I thought I might feel like a piece of meat, but because I can’t see the men that are bidding on me, I don’t really feel like they’re even out there. But I know they are. This dress, these heels, I never wear this sort of clothing. I’m a simple girl, never had much money. Especially after my demons pushed me into hole after hole and dug me into this pit of bad debt that I find myself in now. The lights drop off as suddenly as they had come on and a side door opens. I blink, trying to get my vision back, and that man with the ponytail is back. “This way,” he says softly, taking my arm. “What happened?” I ask, suddenly panicking. “Did I make a mistake?”

“No,” he says, and I can see that he’s smiling. “Not at all. You did great.” “Really?” “Really. I think you’ll be pleased, actually.” “What do you mean?” “You’ll see.” He leads me down another hallway, past large paintings and statues, and places me into another room. It’s a lounge room, like the one before, but much smaller and without a bar. There’s one table and some couches. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. “Your client will be in soon.” “My client?” I ask. “Someone bought me?” “Someone bought you.” “How much did he pay?” The man smiles. “Be patient. He’ll be here soon.” He leaves and I’m left alone. I sit down at the table, heart hammering in my chest. Someone really bought me. I have to admit, I never thought someone really would. Not after seeing all those other beautiful girls in the other room.

They’re the kind of women that I thought men would want, not a plain girl like me. I’m five foot three and nothing special. My dark hair is thick and long, which I think is my best feature, although boyfriends have told me that it’s my ass. I don’t really know about that. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a few years now. I’m twenty-four, didn’t go to college, and wasted the prime years of my life. I tap my nails on the tabletop, nervous as hell, not sure what to expect. Frankly, I’m afraid. The man that comes through the door will be the man that owns me for the next month. What if I hate him? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I can do this for a whole month. I’m going to be someone’s toy, someone’s property. I’m going to submit to him because I need this money, and this is the best way I could find to get it. I’m freaking out and I know it, but I can’t help myself. It’s overwhelming and so new. I want to get up and run away, get the hell out, but I know what’s waiting for me out in the real world is much worse. I need this. It’s that simple. I can’t run away. As I look up, the door slowly opens. My heart starts to beat erratically out of nerves and I feel like I might faint. And then he steps into the room.

Tall and broad. Bright green eyes. Handsome as hell. He looks muscular under that perfectly tailored suit. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and I can’t help but stare at him. This is the man who owns me. I know it deep down inside of me. He smiles at me and shuts the door behind him. This can’t be real. He’s too handsome. He’s way too handsome, and young, and gorgeous, and oh crap, he’s looking at me with this sexy cocky grin that’s driving me insane. “Hello, Aria,” he says, his voice rich and deep. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.” I can only nod, heart hammering in my chest, and I feel like I might pass out at any second.

3

ETHAN

T

he first time I saw Aria, she was standing in the middle of a stage with lights glowing down all around her. She looked perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. The way she folded her hands in front of her and looked nervously at the ground made me instantly fascinated by her. I didn’t expect to actually bid, and really thought I wasn’t going to, not until I actually hit the button and wrote down a number. The girls before Aria were all beautiful but none of them interested me. I’d seen women like them before, slept with women like them before, and I wasn’t interested in trying them again. They were too confident and too conventionally pretty. Aria

was beautiful as well, but in a different way. Her long, thick hair framed her thin, pale face and made her blue eyes that much brighter. I couldn’t help but stare at her body as they had her spin around. It was totally surreal. I was alone in my own little vestibule with a small computer screen in front of me. I could see the starting bid and I watched as men began to put money down on her. As soon as I saw that other men wanted her, I knew that I had to have her. I couldn’t let some other bastard take her home, not when I couldn’t be sure how they’d treat her. It was a moment of insanity, but I wrote an absurdly high number and submitted it. There was a pause and then my bid was accepted. No other bids came through, and a minute later I won the auction. After Aria left the stage, I was escorted out of my room by the same young woman that brought me in there. She took me down a series of hallways and left me outside of a room, saying that Aria is in there and that I can go in any time. She handed me a sheaf of papers with the winning bid amount on it and what appeared to be a contract. Then she left, and that’s how I find myself standing outside of this room, my heart pounding. I can’t believe how nervous I am to meet her. I’ve

met thousands of beautiful women in my life and slept with a fair number of them, too. But I’ve never felt this nervous before. It’s absurd. I own her. I bought this beautiful girl to keep for a month. I have responsibilities that were all described to me beforehand, like making sure she’s fed and clothed and made comfortable. She has to be able to contact her people once a day, or else they’ll come looking for her. And they physically check on her a few times as well, to make sure she’s not being abused. If I break terms, there will be consequences, though they didn’t say what kind of consequences. I don’t plan on hurting her. I don’t know what I really plan on doing with her, to be totally honest. I don’t want to fuck some girl that I bought and who has to do what I want. That’s not fun, not at all. As I stand there, it suddenly occurs to me what I have to do. If I’m going to sleep with her, she has to want it. I can’t just take her because I paid for her. There’s no fun in that, and it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable just thinking about it. I know what I need to do. I have to seduce her. I have to make her want to do it.

That’s going to be hard. She’s an escort and it’s not likely that she genuinely wants to fuck her clients. She’s doing all of this for money, and I have to convince her to do it for sheer pleasure. I have a month to pull it off. Maybe I’ll even get some companionship out of this deal if she is never seduced. It’ll be hard to know when she truly wants it, since it’s her job to make me feel like she does, but I’m a good judge of character. It’s how I got so far in business. I can read people and understand what they really want from life. I know how to give it to them and how to take it away. I have to assume that I’ll be able to see through her bullshit and truly understand when she wants me and when she’s just putting on a performance for the man that bought her. I can feel my nervousness slowly recede as I begin to plan how I’m going to do this. I feel good having an idea and there’s an excitement coursing through me, beneath all the uncertainty. I haven’t felt excited in months, not since work got insanely busy. But now I feel it, deep down in my core, and I can’t wait to see what I can do with this woman. With my new toy, my Aria. I take a deep breath then open the door. I shut it softly behind me before facing her, a grin spreading

out across my face. She’s gorgeous. Way more fucking gorgeous in person. She looks about as nervous as I felt standing outside, which makes me feel so much more comfortable. She’s smaller than I expected, too, which I really like. I like that I am physically dominant and larger than she is. I love her small, perky breasts and her hips and her thick ass, her body is perfect. And I love the look on her face. This is the first time she’s actually seeing me. I bet she expected some old, fat rich guy with no hair and halitosis. Instead, she’s getting me, and I can tell she already likes it. “Hello, Aria,” I say. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.” She nods, her eyes wide. She looks like she might pass out, so I pour her a glass of water from the side table and place it in front of her. She takes a few sips before putting it back down. “Thank you,” she says. I put out my hand and she places hers in mine. We shake softly. “Good to meet you,” I say. “You too,” she answers, looking away.

I sit down across from her and place the contract down on the table between us. There are pens in a small holder at the edge of the table and I can’t help but smile to myself. These people are professionals. “Are you nervous, Aria?” I ask her, knowing the answer. “Yes,” she admits. I find that endearing. “Why?” “I’ve never done this before.” I raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Never?” “Never,” she confirms. “I’ve never been an... escort before.” Interesting. I lean back in my chair and watch her, studying her. She does look more nervous than I expected and she’s having a hard time making eye contact, probably from her nervousness. Finally, I get her to look at me, and she smiles. “What?” she asks. “Just looking at you. You’re not what I expected.” “What did you expect?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “This is my first time,

too.” “Really?” She sits up. “You’ve never bought an, uh, escort before?” “Never,” I say. “You’re my first.” “Well then. I’m glad we can do this for the first time together, then.” “Me too,” I say. She smiles and I can’t help but feel warm toward her. “What’s this?” she asks, taking the contract. “I’m not totally sure. I think we’re supposed to sign it.” She starts reading over it and I study her as she does it. Her eyes narrow a bit and she subvocalizes ever so slightly. That suggests to me that she needs glasses normally, and they probably wouldn’t let her wear them. I make a note of that for the future. She looks up at me and smiles, blushing. “You’re watching me,” she says. “Sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?” “No, I mean, this is just weird.” I laugh. “Very weird,” I agree. “Did you read this yet?”

“Not yet. I glanced at it in the hallway. Most of it seems like pretty standard legal stuff, NDA and the like.” “NDA?” “Non-disclosure agreement. I use them a lot.” “What do you do?” she asks, cocking her head. “I founded World Line. Have you heard of it?” She perks up again. “I know that company. You guys manufacture a bunch of stuff. Lots of medical equipment.” “That’s right. I’m surprised you know that.” “I wanted to be a doctor for a long time.” “What happened?” I ask, and regret it immediately. She looks down at the contract. “Life,” she says, and I feel like an asshole. She goes back to reading, the moment lost between us. What a stupid question to ask. I know she’s clearly not a doctor, though I can’t help but wonder why she’s doing this. From what I can tell, she’s normal, though very attractive and intelligent. I don’t know her at all though, and people have their reasons. It’s just another mystery I’ll have to unravel. I want to get to know the real girl sitting across from me, not

just the girl she’s going to pretend to be. I don’t want her to be some slave that makes me happy. I want to own her completely, not just because I’ve spent money on her. It’s a dangerous feeling, but I can’t help myself. She finally makes it through the contract and signs her name at the end before spinning it around toward me. “Thanks,” I say. “You’re welcome.” She watches me as I start reading. I glance up twice before smiling at her. “Your turn to watch me?” I ask. “Exactly.” I can’t help but grin and she smiles back. “I’ve tasted my own medicine and it is bitter.” She laughs. “A friend of mine used to say that a long time ago.” “It’s a good one.” I flick the pen, twirling it around my fingers, an absent-minded gesture. “Go ahead and watch if you want. We might as well get comfortable with each other.” “Good point,” she says, and puts her chin in her hands. “Don’t be shy, Ethan. I’ll just sit here

quietly, judging and such.” I laugh and shake my head. She’s clever and funny once you get past her nervousness. I go back to the contract and begin to read. The Syndicate Herein, Ethan Locks (“The Client”) and Aria Taylor (“The Seller”) enter into a legally and emotionally binding contract with The Syndicate. Breaking of any stipulation, in spirit or in letter, results in a voiding of this contract. Consequences will be swift and merciless. Nothing protects a bastard, a cheat, or a thief. The Client agrees to provide all basic needs to The Seller for the duration of the contract, here listed as One Month. The Client agrees not to harm The Seller without her consent. The Client agrees to allow The Seller to contact The Syndicate at least once a day, and The Client will submit to all inspections by The Syndicate. The Seller agrees to obey The Client unless it risks her safety. The Seller agrees to do everything in her power to satisfy The Client. This includes but it not limited to sexual favors, housework, emotional comforts, public displays, gifts, and so on. The Seller is owned by The Client and is bound to do

her duty. The contract goes on from there, dropping into ever more legalistic jargon, but that opening is fascinating. It’s unlike any contract I’ve ever seen, and the bit about thieves and retribution is fascinating. The Syndicate is obviously a serious and professional group just based on their facilities, but this contract hints at something much more. I skim the rest of it. Everything seems standard, laying out NDA clauses, liability clauses, and finally payment. The amount I bid on her is listed there at the bottom. I smile and turn the page toward her. “Did you see this?” I ask. Aria glances down and looks back up at me. “I did,” she admits. “How does that make you feel?” She pauses for a second, clearly searching for words. Finally, she says, “I’m not worth that much money.” I stare, surprised. I didn’t expect that response, but it hints at something much deeper to her. “You’re worth more than two million,” I say. “Maybe,” she says, looking away.

I watch her for a moment then turn the contract back to me. I flip to the last page and sign it, not needing to read the rest of it. That moment sealed it for me. I have to have this girl. I need her. I want her more than I could ever have imagined. Not just because I’m paying two million dollars for her, but because she fascinates me. The money is nothing. But her submission, her obedience, her genuine seduction... that’s worth it all. Once the pages are signed, the door suddenly opens and the young woman steps inside. “Are you all ready, Mr. Locks?” she asks. “I am,” I say, standing. “Good. Please, bring that contract and follow me.” I look at Aria and she smiles at me. “See you later,” I say. “Yeah. See you.” I smirk at her for a second longer then turn and follow the woman out of the room. My heart is hammering and I don’t know what’s going to happen from here. I just signed that insane contract and now it’s official. I’m going to pay these people then take Aria home with me.

I own her. She’s mine. I bought her for an absurd sum of money and I get to do whatever I wish with her for one month. And I wish to seduce her until she’s begging for me, genuinely begging for me, out of her mind with desire.

4

ARIA

I

feel better as soon as I get a chance to change into normal clothes.

Meeting Ethan for the first time made me feel things I never expected. He wasn’t at all what I assumed he’d be. He’s interesting, attractive, smart, and funny. He made me feel comfortable, despite that one tiny blip in the conversation. I actually found myself wanting to be around him, and not just because I’m getting paid. I still can’t believe how much he spent. If I make it through this and everything goes as it should, I’ll walk away with over one million dollars. I won’t ever have to do anything like this again. I’ll pay off my debts, find a new apartment, find a new job, or maybe even go back to school. I’ll have options

again. I’ll be free. But only if I get through this. As soon as Ethan leaves, ponytail comes back and takes me into the back rooms again. He instructs me to get changed, which I do, and he brings my bags. Once I’m in street clothes, and feeling much more comfortable, I carry my two bags full of all my earthly possessions out through a back door and into a big black sedan. Ethan is sitting in the other seat, waiting for me. Once ponytail closes the door, I realize that I’m really doing this. I’m really going home with this man. “Welcome,” he says. “Ready?” I nod. “I’m ready.” “It’s not a far drive. I live downtown.” “Really?” He nods as the driver pulls out. We head down Broad toward the center of the city. “It’s an old house. Well, six old houses. I bought them up and renovated them a few years ago.” “You live in... six houses?” I can’t help but laugh. “I know, it’s absurd. Too much space for just me.

Truth is, I spend a lot of time in the office.” “Good thing I’m coming to stay with you,” I say, smiling. “Someone will finally give your house some use.” “That’s one benefit,” he says, grinning back. “Truth is, I have a full staff back at the house. They keep it all running without me. Plus, there’s Jenkins, and he lives there full time.” “Jenkins?” I ask. Ethan looks a little bashful, which is incredibly endearing on him. “Jenkins is my butler.” I laugh out loud, shaking my head. “You’re kidding?” “I’m not kidding,” he says, laughing along with me. “I really have a live-in butler named Jenkins.” “That’s the most cliché rich person thing I’ve ever heard.” “I know.” He grins and leans back in his seat. “It’s all status stuff. I don’t need Jenkins, but he does make my life easier.” “How so?” “Simple stuff,” he says. “Jenkins runs the household. Pays the bills, manages the staff, makes

sure food is ready when I’m there, makes sure nothing is wasted. You’ll meet him soon.” I suddenly feel very, very nervous. We drive into a more residential area of town, one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. I’ve been here before, of course, but only while walking through. I live in the south part of the city, or at least I used to. Now I’m homeless, but I probably won’t tell him that. Nobody wants some homeless, ex-addict girl living in their house. I need to keep some things secret from Ethan, because otherwise I’m afraid he won’t like the truth. The car pulls up out front of a large beautiful building. It looks like an old brick row home, but it’s much wider, with many windows. It’s immaculately kept, which I assume is the work of Jenkins. “Home sweet home,” Ethan says, getting out of the car. He comes around and helps me out, even carrying my bags. He waves off the driver, tips him, and sends him off. The car speeds away and we walk up the stoop. Ethan hits a button on the buzzer, pauses a second, and then another buzzer sounds. He pushes open the door and we step inside.

The entryway is beautiful. The floor is all hardwood, gleaming and immaculate. Modern art is hanging on the walls. There’s a stairwell to the right, a door to the left, and a French door to the right, next to the stairs. Ethan walks straight ahead and I hurry to follow him. I gape at everything we come across. The hall opens up into a large open space that’s obviously at least two townhouses wide. There’s an immaculately furnished living room area with a ceiling that goes up at least two stories. Back into the other townhouse, to the left is a large modern kitchen with beautiful appliances. I can’t help but stare all around me. I’ve never seen anything so nice in my whole life. I knew he was rich, or at least I knew it on some abstract level. But now that I’m seeing his actual objects and the house he lives in, I can really appreciate it. The place looks like a museum or a high-end hotel or something. It’s absolutely spotless and nothing is out of place. As we move into the kitchen and Ethan tosses his wallet and keys onto the counter, a door off to one side opens and a man steps out. “Jenkins,” Ethan says, smiling. “We have a guest.” “Do we, sir?”

Jenkins is an older man, short and thin, maybe in his sixties. His white hair is slicked back but his crystal clear blue eyes are sharp and intelligent. He looks at me appraising, but he doesn’t smile. “Nice to meet you,” I say to him. “Charmed,” he responds without looking at me. “This is Aria. She’s going to be staying with us for the next month.” Jenkins pauses and I catch the slightest surprise on his face. “A month, sir?” “Yes, Jenkins,” Ethan says. “Please prepare the second room for her.” His surprise is even more evident. “The second room, sir?” “Am I speaking clearly?” Ethan looks at me, smiling. I just shrug, feeling too awkward to respond. He sighs and looks back at Jenkins. “Don’t give me a hard time, please.” “Of course not, sir.” He turns to leave. “And be nice to Aria, damnit!” he calls out as Jenkins disappears.

“He doesn’t like me,” I say. “He’s just an old curmudgeon. Doesn’t like change.” I smile at that. “You have a butler.” “I have a butler.” “A cranky, old butler.” “It’s a regular British estate.” He grins at me. “Want a tour?” “Of course I do.” “Well, right this way, miss.” He offers his arm and I take it with a laugh. The whole house is actually six townhouses in one, three on the front block and three on the back. There are ten bedrooms and fifteen bathrooms plus a gym, an indoor pool, a large entertainment room, a small theater, and more. Ethan almost seems embarrassed as he walks me through the place, like the extravagance is too much. Truthfully, it almost is too much. There’s more money in this house than I’ll ever see in a lifetime, or at least that was the case before I landed this job. I know people that live on less per year than he has invested in end tables.

It’s mind-boggling. The comfort, the wealth, the power, I just can barely understand it all. I’m exhausted and it’s late at night, probably around two in the morning, and I feel like I’m running on fumes. We finish back up in the main living room. “So, what do you think?” he asks. “It’s... big,” I say. He laughs. “I know. It’s absurd.” “Do you use it all?” “Hardly,” he admits. “I’m barely even here to be honest. I have guests staying here all the time and the place is mostly for them.” “So you live in a hotel.” He laughs, pouring himself a drink. “Pretty much.” He gestures at the bottle of whisky. “Want one?” “Sure,” I say, although I don’t like whisky. He pours and hands me the glass. I accept it and sip it. He laughs at the face I make. “You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want it,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’m not much of a whisky drinker.” “Don’t worry about it.” He takes the glass from me

and pours it into his, making it a double. “I guess I’m not sure how to act in this situation.” “I know. Strange, right?” He shrugs, sipping his whisky. “Just be yourself. What do you like to drink, anyway?” “Wine,” I say. “Anything white.” “Perfect. I have two thousand bottles.” “Seriously?” He laughs. “Seriously. Like I said, it’s a hotel.” He walks to the refrigerator, opens a small drawer toward the bottom, and pulls out a white. He opens the bottle, pours me a drink, and hands me the glass. “Cheers,” he says. He clinks and sips. I look around the room, wondering how the hell I found myself in this situation. I don’t belong here. Jenkins must have seen through me the second I walked through that door. He knows that I’m trash, that I don’t belong in a place like this with a man like Ethan. Worse, maybe Jenkins knows what I am. That I’m a hooker for Ethan. That he bought and paid for me and now I’m contractually obligated to do whatever Ethan wants.

Not that I really mind, to be truthful. I would have gone home with Ethan for free if he wanted me. But with the money involved, things are different. I know I need to please him, but I’m not sure how to go about doing that. “Come on,” he says finally. “Let’s go to your room. It’ll be ready by now.” I reach down and grab my bag but he waves me off. “Jenkins will bring that up. Come on.” I frown, leaving the bag, and follow him. We go back upstairs, but instead of moving down the guest wing like last time, he leads me to the right and down a short hallway. “So, this is my private wing,” he says. “The door at the far end is my room. And this is yours.” He stops in front of a door with the number two on the front. “The second room,” I say, smiling. “Very clever.” He shrugs, grinning. “Easier this way.” He opens the door and we step into the room. It’s gorgeous. There’s a bathroom on the left as we walk inside. In the center of the room is a large four-poster bed. There’s a small fireplace with a fire burning in it, a television with a couch in front of it, a small table, and another room toward the back.

“Bed, bathroom, living room, and there’s an exercise room off the back,” he says. “Balcony too, if you want to use it.” “You really do live in a hotel,” I say, laughing. “But the nicest hotel I’ve ever seen.” He grins. “Glad you like it. You’ll be in here for your stay.” He walks over to the dresser and picks up a phone. “Use this to call down to the kitchen. There’s someone on staff twenty-four seven, so if you’re ever hungry, just call and ask. You can also request laundry service or cleaning if you want. Really, call and ask for whatever and Jenkins will make it happen.” “Are you sure?” I ask. “I bet he’ll conveniently forget my requests.” “Probably,” Ethan says, grinning. I walk over to the bed and run my hand down the comforter. It’s beautiful and soft, the sort of bed I’ve always dreamed about as a little girl. “This is too much,” I say finally. “Really, Ethan. I can stay in something simpler.” “I’m contractually obligated to provide you with all of this,” he says, and walks over to me. “Besides, I want to spoil you.”

I turn toward him, my heart beating fast, and I take a sip of my wine to cover my embarrassment. “It’s why you’re here,” he says to me, stopping close. “I want to spoil you rotten, Aria. I want to give you things. But most of all, I want to make you feel things you never expected.” “Like what?” I ask, a little breathless. He steps close to me, his body inches from mine. His hand rests on the small of my back as his lips come closer to mine. I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he veers to the side, stopping next to my ear. “If you have to ask, you’re not ready to hear the answer,” he says softly, and I feel a chill run down my spine. He pulls back, giving me this devilish smile, and I want him to come back. I want him to tell me what he’s going to make me feel. I’m flushed and excited, and I can feel my pussy is already tingling and dripping wet. It’s crazy that I feel this way. It’s supposed to be just a job, but Ethan isn’t work. He’s charming and gorgeous. “Good night,” he says, turning away. “Wait,” I say. “Don’t you...?”

“What?” he asks, cocking his head. I looked away, frowning. “Nothing.” He walks toward the door and I watch him go, wishing he’d stay. As he opens it, he pauses and turns back to me. “Oh sorry, I do have one rule for you. Stay in this room. If you want to leave it, you have to get permission from me. Understood?” “Okay,” I say, nodding. “I won’t keep you prisoner, of course. And if you want books, magazines, movies, a computer, anything, just ask. But don’t leave without permission.” I nod. “Thanks,” I say. “Sleep tight, Aria.” He leaves the room before I can respond. I down my wine, place the glass on a side table, and then collapse onto the enormous bed. I burrow down into the covers, put my face in the beautiful and immaculate pillow, and I scream. I can’t believe that I’m here. I laugh and scream into the pillow and laugh some more, completely overwhelmed with my situation. Once I get that out

of my system, I quickly explore the room. The gym in the back is pretty nice with a treadmill, a little TV, some weights, and a bench press. The balcony overlooks the city and I realize that I’m on the third floor. The view is incredible. I step back inside and notice that my bags were discreetly delivered while I was outside on the balcony. I walk over to them and begin to unpack, frowning at my meager possessions. I don’t know what I want or what I’m going to do, but I have to try and enjoy this. Ethan could still be some kind of serial killer or something like that, but I doubt it. I think the real problem is, I can’t believe that I’m in this place and with this man, and I don’t think I deserve any of it. But if I get through it, I’ll make over a million dollars. If I live frugally and am smart, I can be set for life. I can afford to go to nursing school, or even go all the way back and start at the beginning to become a doctor. Anything is possible after this. I just need to figure out Ethan and give him what he likes. Because there was one clause in that contract that’s been bothering me since I signed. One very important clause.

If I don’t please him, The Syndicate won’t pay me. Ethan gets a partial refund. But The Syndicate won’t give me a dime. Even if there are still hundreds of thousands, I won’t see a dime if I don’t please him. I climb into bed, trying to figure him out. I need to start being better at this and fast. So far, I’ve been myself, which is dorky and clumsy and stupid. I need to up my game and work on him. But for now, I’ll just enjoy this the best I can. In the morning, I’ll see what I can do.

5

ETHAN

I

finish cooking the eggs and plate them on the large platter. My cook, Michelle, looks on from the counter, smiling and sipping her coffee. “This is a first,” she says as I finish up. “You cooking and me watching.” “You’re enjoying this too much,” I say. She shrugs. Michelle is in her fifties, rotund and possibly my favorite person in the world. She’s been working for me ever since I started making serious money, about two years before Jenkins came. I don’t know how I could manage my life without her. It’s very rare that I want to actually cook for myself, but when I do she’s always around for a chat and some tips. I haven’t cooked anything

in a couple years, though. I’ve been too busy. Today feels different, though. It’s around six in the morning and I know Aria is probably asleep, so I want to surprise her. I’m not sure why. I just want to spoil her. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you cook, that’s all,” she says. “Cooking is good for you. Good for the spirit.” “Of course you’d say that,” I respond, grinning. “Look at you. You’re practically glowing.” She leans toward me over the counter. “I assume this is all for her.” She gives me a knowing look. “Gossip moves fast, I see,” I say, frowning. “What can I say, Ethan. You brought a woman home.” “So? I bring women home all the time.” “But they don’t stay until the next morning. And they definitely don’t get the second best room in the house.” I sigh, not wanting to engage in this, but I do need to say something. Aria is going to be in the house for the next month and the staff is going to be curious.

I trust all of them. They’ve had opportunities to spread gossip in the past, but they never have. The ones that were more loose-lipped were fired a long time ago, and things are in a very good place right now. But still, I need to tell them something. “Her name is Aria,” I say. “And she’s going to be staying here for a month.” Michelle looks surprised, her eyebrows raised in little arches. “A month?” “One month. The staff is to treat her as if she owns the place. Any request will be granted. Understood?” She nods, a bewildered smile on her face. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” I sigh. “Just be good to her, okay?” She nods, face softening. “I’ll make sure she feels welcome.” “Thank you.” I put a cup of coffee on the tray and heft it up in my arms. I carry it over to a little cart, put it down, and head over to the elevator. I hear Michelle getting started on the dishes, which makes me smile. There are some nice perks to being rich. I get into the service elevator and ride it up to the third floor. I feel like a bellhop as I wheel the cart

down my own hallway, stopping outside of Aria’s door. I knock softly then open the door. I wheel the cart inside and shut the door behind me. Aria is sitting up in bed, sheets wrapped around her, and I stop for a second, taken by her. The night before she was all done up for the auction and was absolutely gorgeous, but this morning she looks simply like herself. Her hair is a bit messy and she’s not wearing any makeup. And she’s beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. She smiles slightly which makes my heart race as I wheel the food into the main room, stopping next to her bed. “Good morning,” she says. “Morning.” I gesture at the tray. “Breakfast in bed.” Her smile gets bigger. “Is this going to be a normal thing?” I shrug and cross my arms. “It can be, if you want.” She looks at me strangely. “I don’t understand this.” “What’s confusing about breakfast?” “I mean...” She trails off. “All of this.” She gestures at the room. “Why give me this?”

I smile at her and sit on the edge of the bed. I reach out and gently run my fingers through her hair. She watches me with her gorgeous wide eyes. “I told you,” I say softly. “I want to spoil you.” “I don’t mind being spoiled.” She smiles. “I’m going to keep you in here. In this room. And I’m going to spoil you as much as I can.” “If that’s what you want,” she says softly, watching me. “You’re my pet now, Aria,” I say. “I’m going to keep you in this little cage and use you however I want.” “Okay,” she says, practically a whisper. I can feel excitement coursing through my body and as I look at her, I wonder if she feels the same thing. Her face looks excited. I can see a slight flush in her cheeks and her breath comes quickly. But I don’t know if that’s because she wants me as much as I want her, or if it’s because she’s just good at what she does. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “It smells really good,” she says. “I made it myself, actually.”

“Really?” She laughs lightly and takes the mug of coffee from the tray. “A rich man that cooks and looks good in the morning.” I laugh and take the second mug, sipping the coffee. “I do what I can.” “I could get used to it.” “Good. That’s what I want.” I nod at the food. “Go ahead and eat.” She reaches out and takes a piece of toast, biting down into it. She chews for a second and seems to realize that she’s actually hungry as she reaches out for a fork. “I have to go to work soon,” I say. “You’ll be stuck in this room all day.” “That’s okay,” she says. “It’s a big room.” She eats some eggs and smiles huge. “This is really good.” “Butter,” I say. “And a little whole milk.” She laughs. “You really are spoiling me.” “Only way to make eggs.” I grin at her. “Like I said last night, you can have whatever you want. But you still have to get permission to leave this room from me directly. Understand?” “Okay,” she says. “That’s fine.”

“Good.” I watch her eat for a moment, trying to see past her exterior. I can’t tell if she’s enjoying it or if she’s eating just to please me. That’s going to be the problem. I’m going to have to be on my game when it comes to her if I want to really see past her acting. She’s meant to do everything she can to please me, which means she’s going to suppress her own desires to do what I want. To an extent, I expect that. I expect her to obey my rules. But I don’t want her to simply do what she thinks I want her to do. I need her to want this. That brings me more pleasure than she could possibly know. I stand up and she watches me as I move across the room. “Have a good day, my pet,” I say to her. I watch her reaction to the little nickname, and smile with satisfaction. She clearly doesn’t like it. “Have a good day,” she says. I cock my head at her, grinning, but decide not to say anything. I turn and head back out into the hallway, smiling to myself. She’s already acting, but I can see through some of

it. I’m going to figure her out and soon I’ll give her exactly what she wants. She won’t be able to resist showing herself to me. Only when she’s completely stripped bare in front of me will I finally give her what she really needs. I grin to myself and can’t think about anything else on the entire trip into the office.

6

ARIA

I

lean back against the headboard as soon as Ethan leaves the room, ignoring the food beside me. It’s not that I don’t like breakfast, I just don’t normally eat much in the morning. I finish the toast and coffee at least before wheeling the cart back out into the hallway. I’m careful not to actually leave the room as I push it outside. Once that’s done, I go into the bathroom and start the shower. It’s a gorgeous bathroom with a full vanity, whirlpool tub, and huge shower. Everything is tiled in beautiful mosaic patterns, and part of me feels like the toilet itself should be solid gold. It’s not, of course, and I get into the shower to wash myself. I feel like I’m cleaning days’ worth of

grime from my body even though I showered the night before, just as the auction was about to begin. Showers can be hard for me sometimes. It feels good, but it’s strange. I can still remember waking up in a shower, half naked, my body bruised and battered and wondering where the hell I am. That was one of the lowest points in my life when I realized what I did just to score some drugs. It was when I was lying on the floor of that shower, half conscious of what had happened, that I realized I was at rock bottom. It was the lowest point of my life. And I can’t help but think about it every time I get in the shower. I’m disgusted by the person I was. I’ve been clean for two years and have no plan to go back, but I still feel that stupid junky deep inside of me, begging to get out. I made mistakes. I’ve been weak and frail and stupid before. But I pulled myself up off that shower floor, got the fuck out of that house, and checked myself into a rehab treatment facility. Six months in there and I never looked back. I still owe them, which is actually just one small part of my debt, but it’s one debt that I won’t mind paying off. They saved me there, saved my life, showed me that a life without drugs is the life I want to

lead. I shut off the shower and get out, toweling myself off. I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how I got from the bottom of that shower to this place. I run my fingers over the marble countertop and although I know that I’m just this man’s plaything, I can’t help but imagine that I’m something more. I can’t let myself indulge in that, though. Ethan doesn’t care about me. He just wants to play a game. He wants me to be his pet and to stay in this room. Sure, he’s spoiling me, but it’s still his game that I have to play. He doesn’t want Aria, he doesn’t want the real me. He would turn and run the second he found out about me. But maybe I can pretend, at least for a little while. I’ll have to pretend harder than I have been so far. I need this to go well. Once I’m dry enough, I wrap a towel around me and head back out into the main room. I look around for my bags, but I don’t find them anywhere. Instead, the drawers have clothes already in them, but they’re not my clothes. There are bras, panties, and some tops and bottoms. In the closet, several dresses hang, and it all looks to be in my size. For a second I panic, afraid that he took away my phone

and my things. If I don’t have my phone, I can’t contact The Syndicate, and that would be bad. But tucked in the back corner of the closet are my bags. I breathe a sigh of relief as I fish out my phone and shoot a text to the number they gave me, just letting them know that I’m fine and taken care of. When that’s done, I go back into the main room and get dressed. I put on a matching bra and panty set, looking at myself in the mirror. I want to be pleasing to him, so I pick out a cute, revealing top and short little jean shorts. Once dressed, I stand there and look at the room. The clock next to the bed says that it’s eight in the morning, and I realize that I have all day to kill. I get my laptop from my bag, but there’s no open WiFi. Nervously, I grab the phone and hit zero before listening to it ring. “Yes?” It’s Jenkins’s voice from the night before. “Uh, hi, it’s Aria,” I say. “Yes?” he asks again. “I, uh, was wondering if there was a WiFi password?” I ask. “No internet,” he says.

I pause. “No internet?” I repeat. “I was instructed to keep you off the internet.” I frown, disappointed. What the hell am I supposed to do all day then? “Okay,” I say. “Thank you. Are there any books you could bring up?” “Of course,” he says. “Will that be all?” “Uh, yes. Thank you.” The phone disconnects and I flop back onto the bed. “No internet,” I groan to myself and roll over onto my side. Jenkins brings up a box full of books not too long later, but he doesn’t stick around. He simply places the box outside of my door, knocks twice, and then leaves. I pull the box inside and start fishing through it. They’re mostly trashy romances, but that’s good enough. I spend most of the day reading. It’s boring and slow, but it’s all I have to do. Eventually I figure out how to work the television, so I switch from reading to watching TV and back again all day long. Jenkins brings me lunch and dinner, but that’s the only human contact I get all day.

The food is good, so at least there’s that. After dinner, around eight that night, I start getting really antsy. I haven’t heard from Ethan all day. I know he’s a busy man and probably works late, but still, I thought maybe I’d see him more. He hasn’t even touched me yet, although it hasn’t been a full day. Maybe he’s just easing himself into it, working up to it. Maybe he just likes a little suspense. I don’t feel suspenseful. I just feel bored. Eventually, midnight rolls around, and I’m exhausted. I turn off the television and toss my book aside before changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. I stare up at the ceiling, disappointed. I thought that being an escort was going to be more exciting than this. So far, it’s more like a boring vacation. I want to make Ethan happy, not just sit around in this room alone and read books. Then again, this is what he told me to do. He wants me to stay in this room and only leave with his permission. If that makes him happy, knowing that I’m safe in here, well, then I guess it’s what I have to do. Still, I’m disappointed. I want to see him again.

Maybe that’s silly, but I want to see his cocky smile and his handsome face. I want to see the muscles under his perfectly fitting suit. I want him to take me, let me please him in the way that I know I’m supposed to. Instead, I’m stuck in here. His little pet. I frown at the nickname. I don’t really like it, but I don’t really hate it, either. It just makes me feel strange. My heart beats fast and part of me likes the idea of being a pretty thing sitting in a cage for him, though the other part of me doesn’t want to be kept. As I start to drift off to sleep, the phone starts to ring. It’s sudden and it pulls me from sleep with a start. I crawl over to the side and pull it off the receiver on the third ring. “Hello?” I answer, glancing at the clock. It’s around one in the morning. “Hello, pet,” he says. I smile despite myself. “I was wondering if I’d hear from you.” “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.” “That’s okay.” “How are you liking your stay so far?”

“Good,” I say. “The food is amazing.” “You can thank Michelle for that, my cook. You’ll meet her soon.” “I look forward to it.” I hold the receiver between my ear and my shoulder, twirling the cord between my fingers. “I’m stuck at work, but I’m thinking about you,” he says softly. “What are you wearing right now?” I smile to myself. “Black bra and matching panties,” I say, which is true. Though I’m also wearing a white t-shirt and soft jogging pants. “That’s all?” he asks. “I doubt you sleep in just that.” “Who says I’m sleeping?” I ask, suddenly getting an idea. “It’s late,” he says. “I was up thinking of you,” I answer. He pauses. “What were you thinking?” he asks. “I was thinking about your hands on my body,” I say. “I’m your pet, but you haven’t even stroked me yet,” I say. Another pause. “And you want me to stroke you?”

he asks. “Yes,” I whisper. “As soon as you’re home. I’m so bored without you.” “I’m sure you are.” He pauses again and I can feel my heart hammering in my chest. “I’ll see you soon, pet. Sleep tight.” He hangs up suddenly and I’m left staring at the phone, not sure what just happened. I tried to be sexy for him and he just hangs up on me. Like he wasn’t interested in it at all. I hang the phone up and collapse back into bed, sighing. Maybe I suck at this. If I can’t figure out what he wants and soon, I’m going to screw it all up, and I can’t afford that. This is my last attempt. It’s all or nothing for me right now, and I can’t give up. One bad phone call won’t change anything. I’m going to make this man happy whether he wants me to or not.

7

ETHAN

I

have to force myself to go to my last meeting, even though it’s one of the most important meetings of the day.

All I want to do is go home to Aria. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning. I slept in my office again last night and because of some stupid emergency, I couldn’t make it home all day. I called her briefly last night, and again this afternoon, but that was it. She sounds bored. I have to admit, I figured it might take a little longer for her to get sick of her little vacation. Maybe I’ll have to punish her for letting me know that she’s bored. Then again, I want her to be herself, so that can’t fly. I’ll punish her still, but it’ll have to be for some

other reason. I smile to myself, imagining how I’ll punish her as I walk into the restaurant. This last meeting is with Richard Taylor, one of the most notorious businessmen in the city. He’s a real estate guy, and I want to buy out one of his buildings to use as my new corporate headquarters once all this merger stuff goes through. But he’s hard to work with and has an awful reputation for being involved with some shady ventures. I spot Richard sitting in a booth table toward the back. I walk directly toward him. It’s interesting how being a good businessperson very often means you’re a bad regular person. The sort of thing business demands from you usually means you’re a hard person to be around in normal circumstances. Richard Taylor is no exception to this rule. As I approach, he frowns and checks his watch, almost as if I’m late. I’m not, of course, but he’ll make me feel like I am just because he showed up early. “Ethan,” he says, standing, and we shake hands. “Richard. Good to see you.” “You too. Sit down, have a drink.” “Nothing for me tonight,” I say, waving off the waitress as she approaches. “I have to get home.”

He laughs at me. “You go home? I feel like I haven’t been home in days.” “Which is exactly why I’m making it a point to sleep in my own bed tonight,” I say, smiling at him. He nods and for a second, I wonder if my little theory about businessmen extends to myself. Am I just as bad as Richard is? I like to think I’m not. My employees respect me, maybe even like me. I’m generous with benefits and raises and I never yell. I pride myself on being a good boss, because I absolutely hate bad bosses. But I’m still at the top of my game, and my personal life definitely suffers for it. I can see myself in men like Richard, or at least part of myself. Still, I’m not like him, and won’t let myself become like him. I have my pet at home to help keep me sane. “Well then, down to business so you can get home,” he says, and I know it’s a backhanded insult. I choose to ignore it. Instead, I take out a contract we’ve been discussing and we dive back in, talking about the intricacies of the deal. Richard is a hard negotiator, but I know he needs to

sell. He took the recession hard a few years ago, and some of his assets are currently losing him a lot of money. This building happens to be one of those assets. I have the capital and the ability to turn it back into a worthwhile place, but Richard has to meet me in the middle first. He’s playing hardball, though. He doesn’t want to budge an inch on any of his demands, especially not on price, and every concession I get comes at the cost of two more concessions from my side. It’s infuriating and exhausting to keep arguing about petty details, but that’s what Richard seems to want to do. We go at it for an hour before I’m finally finished for the night. Richard is on his second martini when I lean back, shaking my head. “Let’s stop here for the night,” I say to him. “Are you sure?” he asks, grinning. “I feel like we’re just making progress.” “We’ll resume tomorrow,” I say, though I want to punch him in the face. “Sure, fine. Whatever you want,” he says. “Make a meeting with my secretary.” I know that means I probably won’t see him for another week. Richard tosses some bills on the

table, clearly overpaying for his drinks but doing it to show off. I don’t really understand that, since we both know I’m worth more than he is, but it doesn’t matter. We stand and walk toward the exit together. “You and I, Ethan, we’re warriors,” he says to me as we’re walking out. “How’s that?” I ask him. “This business is all a fight. And you have to be a warrior to win it. I think you know that.” “Maybe,” I say. “But it’s not all cutthroat.” “It is,” he says seriously. “It’s a war, a constant battle. You have to kill your enemies, Ethan.” “I don’t like doing business that way.” “Then you’ll lose.” He grins at me, like he’s making a joke, but I know he isn’t. We stop at the front door. “Okay, Richard,” I say. “Have a good night. My secretary will be in touch.” “Good. Enjoy being home,” he says. “I’m back to the office.” We shake hands and I walk away with a sour taste in my mouth. On the car ride back home, I just keep thinking

about how that bastard is going to keep pushing me. He’s going to keep making backhanded insults and comments until this deal is finished, just because he can. He knows he has something that I want, and he’s going to push me as far as he can. That’s the kind of man he is. He wants to destroy things. But I’m not like that. I want to dominate things, but I don’t want to destroy them. That’s how I feel about Aria, my little pet back home. I want to dominate her. But I don’t want to break her. Some men, like Richard, might use her up and walk the line. But I don’t want that. I’d rather spoil her, make her feel good until she’s putty in my hands, willing to do anything for me. My heart beats fast in my chest as I finally get home and walk inside. Jenkins takes my jacket and my briefcase. “Have Michelle send up dinner,” I say to him. “And bring me a whisky, please.” “Of course,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen. I pause at the foot of the stairs. Aria is up there, waiting for me. I feel a thrill run through my body. She’s up there and she’ll do anything that I tell her to do. No matter what it is, if it’s not hurting her, she’ll do it. Maybe she’ll do it if

it does hurt, just a little bit. Maybe she wants it to hurt. I can feel my cock already getting hard as I climb the steps. My pet, my Aria, tied up to the bed. I’ll slide my cock down her throat and as I pull it back out, she’ll beg for more. I have to pause outside of her door, heart beating hard in my chest, calming myself. I can’t go in there with my hard cock trying to break through my pants. Once I’m calm, I knock twice and then open the door. I step inside and find Aria sitting on one of the large, soft white chairs, reading a book. She looks up at me and smiles. “Ethan,” she says, and sounds genuinely excited. “Hello, my pet,” I say, smiling as she tries to hide the fact that she doesn’t like that nickname. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you until now.” “That’s okay. I’m keeping myself company.” I smile at that. “What are you reading?” “This?” she shrugs. “Nothing. Trash.” I walk over to her and sit down in the chair next to hers. She shows me the cover and I laugh. It’s some trashy romance with a muscular shirtless hunk on

the cover by a woman named Willow Winters. “What’s it about?” I ask. “You know, the usual. Boy meets girl. Boy fucks girl until she can’t stand it.” Aria shrugs. I can’t help but laugh. “Sounds like great literature.” “It won’t win the Nobel Prize, but it’s good anyway.” “Did Jenkins bring that?” “He did, actually.” “I didn’t know we had that stuff in the house.” “Apparently someone here loves their dirty stories.” “Do you like dirty stories?” I ask her. She blushes slightly. “I guess so.” “What do you like about them?” “I don’t know,” she says, looking away. I can tell that she’s embarrassed and I love it. “Tell me,” I say. “What do you like about them?” She pauses for a second, searching for the words. “They’re fantasy,” she says finally. “Bad things

happen and people don’t communicate, but the drama makes it really hot, and the endings are always happy.” I watch her for a second, smiling at that. It’s interesting that she specifically mentioned the happy endings as something she likes. Maybe she’s looking for her own happily ever after, but doesn’t even realize it yet. There’s a knock at the door suddenly. I stand and walk over. Jenkins is standing out in the hall with a cart and my whisky. “Thank you,” I say to him. He nods and heads back to the stairs. I take the glass then wheel the cart into the room, shutting the door behind me. As I take a sip and park the cart near the table, Aria stands up and steps toward me. “Wait,” I say, looking at her. “What are you wearing?” “This?” She looks down at herself. “It’s just a dress.” I hadn’t noticed it before, when she was sitting. It’s a black dress that hugs every inch of her body with a cutout right around her breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage. It’s a gorgeous dress and suits her figure perfectly, but it’s all wrong.

“Would you wear that if you were just sitting around at home?” I ask her. She cocks her head at me, smiling. “No, of course not.” “So why were you wearing it?” “For you,” she says. I sigh, sipping my drink. “I want you to be yourself, Aria.” “I can do that, if you want.” “No,” I say softly, stepping toward her. I reach out and softly take her hair in my fist. “It’s not about what I want.” “Yes, it is,” she says in a small voice. “You don’t understand,” I say. “I want to spoil you. I want to make you feel good, but only if you want me to. Now though...”I can tell that she’s upset. “I messed up,” she says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten all dressed up.” “We can fix it,” I say gently. “How?” she asks. I let go of her hair and step back. “Take off the dress,” I say, heart hammering in my chest.

She looks at me for a second. “Okay,” she says. I watch as she slowly slides it off her body until she’s standing in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of black underwear. Her body is gorgeous. Her breasts are full and her hips are perfectly curvy. I want to order her to turn around so that I can take a look at her beautiful ass, but I hold back. Because I know what I want. I know how I’m going to punish her. I stare at her body and I can see the blush on her cheeks. She’s a little embarrassed to be standing in front of me like this, letting me stare at her, and I like that. I think I have something else that she’ll like. “Do you want to get on the bed?” I ask her softly. “Face down,” I add. She watches me for a second then nods. “Okay,” she says. I watch as she climbs onto the bed and stays there on all fours, looking back at me over her shoulder. I give her a look then head into the closet to get her punishment.

8

ARIA

I

’m practically shaking when he comes back from the closet holding three long strips of black silk. He smiles at me and walks slowly toward me, and I can feel my heart hammering hard in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do with those long silk ropes, but I want to find out. “Flat on your stomach,” he says to me simply. I pause then obey. He walks down toward my feet, sliding his fingers along my skin. He touches my lower back, my ass, and slides down my legs until he stops at my feet. He lifts my legs up, keeping my ankles crossed, and then expertly wraps the silk around and between them.

“If you want me to stop, say the word ‘building’. Do you understand?” he asks. I nod. “I understand.” He pulls the silk tight. “Too hard?” he asks. “No,” I say. I can’t move my feet as he takes the other end of the rope and ties it to the footboard. I try to move my ankles but I’m bound tightly. He smiles and runs his fingers back up along my body as he moves up toward my head. A chill runs down my spine as his fingers touch my back. I gasp slightly and look away from him, hiding my excitement. I’m dripping wet already, just from his fingertips brushing along my skin. He runs his fingers down my right arm, stopping at my wrist. “What are your boundaries?” he asks me as he wraps the silk around my wrist, expertly looping it and tying it there. “Boundaries?” I ask him, not sure what he means. “What won’t you do? Things you don’t like. Pain, for example.” “I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t really have boundaries yet.”

He smiles. “Good.” He pulls the silk then ties it to the headboard. “Too tight?” he asks. “No,” I say, testing it. The bond is firm but not cutting off circulation. He walks around the bed then runs his fingers along my skin, from my lower back up along my left arm, ending at my left wrist, and repeats the procedure. “This is your punishment,” he says as he works. “You’ll be tied and bound to this bed. Not too tight, not too uncomfortable, but you won’t be able to move. I’ll be able to do anything I want with you.” A thrill runs through my stomach and as he finishes tying my left wrist to the headboard, I feel a moment of panic. I test my bonds and sure enough, I can’t move at all. I’m totally at his mercy. But I remember what he said about the safe word. All I need to do is say “building” and he’ll stop. I trust him, for whatever reason, although the fear of him taking advantage of me makes this whole experience that much more arousing. I turn my head and watch him. I’m flat on my stomach, ankles crossed, arms flat on the bed and above me. I can touch the headboard with my fingers, but I’m not being stretched or pulled out of position. It’s actually comfortable if I don’t move.

He stands there, admiring me, and then runs his fingers along my back again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says. “Thank you,” I whisper, excitement coursing through me. He stops, his fingers lingering over the cleft under my ass. I can feel his fingers inches from my pussy and I know he can feel the heat radiating from there. If he moves slightly further, he’ll feel how dripping wet I am. Instead, he pulls back his hand and spanks me. I let out a soft gasp, surprised. He smiles at me. “Sorry, did that hurt?” he asks. “No,” I say, “you just surprised me.” “Good.” He spanks me again, this time harder. I gasp, and it actually does hurt. “What about that?” he asks. “That hurt a little bit,” I say. “Perfect.” He spanks me again and again. It stings, but it’s dulled by the intensity of the moment. I’m completely at this man’s mercy and he’s spanking me like a disobedient child. “This is part of your punishment,” he says. “I’m going to spank you until I can see my palm prints in

red on both of your perfect white ass cheeks.” “Ethan,” I groan. “Please. Go easy on me.” He smiles, and I can tell that he likes that. “I am going easy on you, my pet. Don’t worry.” He spanks me again and again, making me groan. I try to squirm but I can’t move, can’t get away. It hurts, but not very much. In fact, it’s just the right amount of pain, cutting through the insane sexual chemistry I’m feeling. I want him to take me so badly, but each new spank is intensely erotic in a way I’ve never felt before. He finishes on the one side then goes around the bed and repeats the procedure. “I love the feeling of this ass under my palm,” he says. “I like that you’re willing to lay there, moaning and taking it. You’re my pet and you know it, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp, losing myself in the game. “I’m your little pet. And I shouldn’t disobey you.” “That’s right. This is what happens when you do. I’ll tie you up nice and tight then spank your ass.” “Ethan,” I gasp when he hits me harder, one last time. He stops and steps back. He admires my ass,

smiling huge. “Perfect,” he says. I squirm against the ropes again, wanting him to put his hands back on me. He kneels down at the side of the bed and runs his fingers through my hair. “You want more, don’t you?” he asks softly. I nod my head, mouth hanging open, and I realize that it’s true. I’m not acting anymore. I want him to touch me. I want his fingers between my legs, his hard cock between my lips. “Not tonight,” he says, standing. “What?” I ask, surprised. “No, not tonight. You don’t deserve it tonight.” He turns and starts walking to the door. “Wait,” I say. “Ethan. Please.” He pauses. I can’t see him, but I know he’s nearby. I try to turn my head, but I can’t roll over. “Please, what?” he asks. I pause, biting my lip. What do I want, exactly? Do I really want him to touch me? Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I could just play along with these games, letting him spoil me. I don’t know what he really wants, and I don’t want to push him away. I don’t want to be greedy. I’m afraid that if I tell him

how badly I want to feel him press his body against me, sinking his cock deep between my legs, that I’ll ruin the moment. I don’t want to risk that. “Don’t leave me,” I say instead, hedging my bet. I can hear the grin in his voice. “You want me to untie you?” “Maybe,” I say. “What do you want?” He pauses and I wish I could see his face. Then he walks back over to me and unties my ankles then my wrists, one after the other. I sit up on my side, watching him. He puts the silk away in the dresser by the side of the bed then crosses his arms. “Enough for tonight,” he says. “Dinner is on the cart.” He nods at the cart parked over by the table. “Okay,” I say, suddenly afraid. Did I do something wrong? I don’t want to displease him, and I definitely don’t want this to be over. He walks over to me and takes my chin, tilting my head up toward him, and he slowly moves down toward me. I feel a thrill, thinking he’s going to kiss me, but instead he presses his lips against my ear. “You did well, my pet,” he whispers. “We’ll finish another night.” He moves away and leaves the

room before I can say anything. I hear the door shut and I collapse back onto the bed, practically panting with pent-up desire. I can’t believe how much I want it. I’ve never felt this way before, ever. Oh sure, I’ve wanted sex before, but not like this. I feel like I’m hanging from a cliff, barely held up by ropes, and all I want is for him to let me fall. It’s dangerous and thrilling and exhilarating. And I didn’t expect to feel this way. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so damn attractive, but it’s more than that. It’s the way he teases me, taking me a little further but backing off, never giving me what I want. I know he’s in control, even if I don’t want him to be. Part of me wanted to tear those ropes off and take him, pull him into the bed with me, beg him to make me feel good. I knew that would ruin everything, but still, I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I can barely think. I have to lay there for a while, maybe a half hour, trying to get myself together. Eventually, I calm down enough to change my clothes and eat the food. It’s good, though it’s cold. As I go to bed that night, I keep thinking about him,

about Ethan and his control. I want to understand it and get past it. I want him to make me feel good. I want to be his spoiled little pet.

9

ETHAN

I

couldn’t get the image of Aria tied up to the bed out of my mind all the next day.

I wanted to fuck her. I can’t say it any other way. I wanted to slide my thick cock deep inside of her pussy, keeping her tied up like that, but I couldn’t let myself. Not yet, at least. She liked it. I could tell she liked it. As soon as I put my hand near her pussy I could feel her heat and practically taste her dripping cunt. She was squirming for it the whole time, and not once did I think I was pushing her too far. It was a simple little spanking, but I could tell she’s never been bound up like that before. I don’t normally do that with women. It’s true, I

have a thing for control, but I don’t show that to the average woman that I bring home. Normally I just get them off and get myself off and that’s enough. But with Aria, I know I need something more. I know she needs it, too. I keep picturing her perfect round ass as I spank it over and over. I keep getting hard at my desk as I imagine my red palm prints on her perfect, smooth white ass. It drives me fucking crazy, and I crave release, but I know that won’t help anything. Although there’s more work to be done, around eight that night I have to go home. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep pretending like the only thing I want to do is be at home with Aria. I call the car, say goodnight to the few people still working late, and head back through the city. As I watch the houses flash by, I can’t help but think about how I don’t really know her, not yet at least. I feel like I know her, but I don’t really. I don’t know where she came from and even if her real name is Aria. I suspect it might be, but I’m only just guessing. She doesn’t seem like she’s very good at acting, as evidenced by her little slipups toward the end of our session, but I can’t be sure. I decide that I’m going to play a different sort of game tonight. Maybe not exactly a game, more like something normal. Once the car pulls up, I head

right inside. Jenkins meets me in the kitchen. “Home early tonight, sir,” he says. “Yes, I am. How’s Aria?” “She’s well,” Jenkins says. “Wanted more movies today. And requested some skin lotion.” I grin at that. “Send dinner up to her room. For both of us. Please.” “Of course.” Jenkins turns and walks off. My heart is beating fast and I realize that I’m excited like a little boy as I take the stairs two at a time. I quickly reach her door and stop just short of barging in, gathering myself. I have to get myself under control. I need to be calm and collected when I see her. Control is what separates us from the animals. We can control ourselves, force ourselves to be calm and to do things we don’t necessarily want to do. I’m obsessed with control because it proves to me that I’m above the animals, that I’m greater than them. Except sometimes, it feels so fucking good to lose myself. All of my worries, my troubles, they drop away and I can embrace the animal inside of me.

That’s how I feel when I’m fucking, but when I’m playing these games, it’s a different sort of release. I calm my heart rate and finally knock once before walking into her room. Aria is sitting on the small couch, curled in a little ball, watching TV. She sits up as soon as I walk into the room and wipes her eyes. “Ethan,” she says. I stop dead and blink, surprised. “Are you okay?” I ask, instantly concerned. “Oh, I’m fine,” she says, laughing lightly. “If there’s something wrong, I’ll fix it. If you don’t like our game, we’ll change it.” I take a step toward her. She smiles and stands up. “Really Ethan, I’m fine. I was just watching... a movie.” She grabs the remote and turns off the TV. “What movie?” I ask, taking a step toward her. I’m curious about what would make her cry. “I don’t want to say.” “Come on. You read trashy romances. What else can you have to hide?” She laughs again. “Okay, fine. It was Love Actually.”

I grin at her. “Seriously?” “It’s good, okay? Gets me every time.” “You wimp.” “I’m a big sap.” She laughs and sits down on the bed. “You’re here early,” she says, looking at me. I sit down on the bed next to her. “I couldn’t stay at work.” “Rough day?” I shake my head. “I just kept thinking about you.” She looks at me, and for a second I see genuine excitement in her eyes. But it quickly passes. “Really?” she asks. “Really.” I reach out and put my hand on her leg. She’s wearing yoga pants and a white t-shirt, though her hair is done and she’s wearing makeup. I suspect this is her attempt at compromise. She wants to be herself, but she still needs to play her part. It’s good enough, at least for now. “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me,” I say. “Of course.” “You didn’t eat yet?” She shakes her head. “I’ve always been a late

eater.” “Me too.” There’s a knock at the door and I stand, heading over to it. Jenkins is outside with a meal cart. I give him a little thanks nod and take it from him, wheeling it back inside. Aria goes to set the table up, but I wave her off. “This way,” I say. I walk over to the back of the room and pull back the curtain. I unlatch the window and pull it open, revealing the balcony. She blinks, clearly surprised. “It’s gorgeous out here. I had no clue.” “Good. It was meant to be a surprise.” I wheel the cart out onto the balcony and she follows. There’s a small table, some chairs, and the view is amazing. It looks out across Old City, at all the historic buildings. The room-length curtains hid this from her view and apparently she didn’t explore her surroundings too much. That tells me a little something about her. “It’s really beautiful,” she says again, smiling and looking out at the city lights. “I love it out here,” I say. “This is the only room with a balcony like this.” “Really? Yours doesn’t have one?”

“I know. Horrible.” She laughs. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, this house is amazing.” “I tried to keep the outside as original as possible, and this was the only original balcony.” I park the cart and begin putting our meal onto the table. There’s a cut of steak and a baked potato for me and what looks like a Caesar salad for her, which I’m guessing is what she asked for at some point. Michelle is very good at learning her guests’ preferences. “Sit,” I say, pulling her seat out, and she sits. I pour myself a drink of whisky from the cart and sit down across from her. I sip my drink as she starts eating. I take a bite of my steak, but I’m not really hungry. That’s not the purpose of this little meal, anyway. “What’s your real name?” I ask her suddenly. She looks up at me, surprised. “Aria,” she says. I cock my head. “Really? You used your real name?” She shrugs. “I didn’t want to have to learn a new one. I figured it’s easier this way.” “Pretty name,” I say, and I know she’s not lying.

“Thanks. One of the nicest things my mother ever gave me.” Her joke sounds rehearsed, like it’s one she’s made many times before, and I smile. “Were you and your mother close?” I ask. “No,” she says, and goes back to eating. Interesting. Her family life is a touchy subject. “Can I ask you how you got into this business?” She shrugs again. “I’ll tell you. But I don’t think you want to know.” “Why not?” She puts down her fork and cocks her head at me. “It’ll ruin the fantasy, won’t it?” “Not at all,” I say. “You’re the fantasy, Aria. The real you.” “You don’t want the real me,” she says, looking down at her plate. I lean toward her. “Try me.” “I’m not like you, Ethan,” she says. “I don’t have anything.” “Having things doesn’t make a person,” I say. “I’ve made mistakes.”

“We all have.” I reach my hand out and put it on hers. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. But I want you to know that I want to know, and I’m not afraid of the answers.” She looks me in the eye and I can see something there, but I’m not sure what it is. I hope she understands that I’m being sincere. I assume something happened to force her into this job. Maybe it’s not a bad thing that forced her to do it, or maybe it is. I can’t really say, but I can accept it either way. We all have a past, but I don’t judge her based on that. Still, her past can tell me things about her, and I want to know everything there is to know. It won’t change my opinion, but maybe I’ll see a fuller picture of her, get to know her in a way I couldn’t have before. “I had a boyfriend when I was twenty. He was a real asshole.” She crosses her arms over her chest as she speaks, and I can tell that’s a defense mechanism. “What was his name?” I ask. “Derek,” she says. “He seemed so nice at first. Until one night he convinced me to get high with him. Derek was a heroin addict, it turned out. He still had a job and stuff, so he was functional at that

point, but it wasn’t long before we were both consumed by addiction.” I nod slowly, listening intently. So it’s drugs and addiction. That’s her dark secret. I want to smile and tell her that it’s okay, that I’ve heard worse, maybe done worse, but I don’t. I just listen and take her seriously. “Things got bad for a while. We were junkies, but we were junkies together. And then one night, Derek bought this shit from a guy we didn’t know. We were desperate for it. And he shot up first. I watched him die right there in the street.” She looks down at her lap and is quiet for a little while. “What happened to you after that?” I ask gently, prodding her. “The usual stuff. I was still an addict, after all. I met some other addicts, fell in with another group, but didn’t sleep around. Couldn’t bring myself to, not after I watched Derek die. He was my first.” She blushes as she says that, which is so incredibly cute. “Anyway, eventually I hit rock bottom. From there, I checked myself into a drug rehab place, a really nice place. Also an expensive place. But it was too late. I also had a pretty big debt with a local dealer, the kind of debt you won’t ever run out on. So

between the rehab place and the dealer, I needed to make some money. Being a waitress wasn’t doing it. My debt was drowning me. I’ve been clean for years, but the debt hasn’t gone away. So I turned to this.” She finishes her story and picks her fork back up, playing with her food quietly. I watch her, fascinated. It’s an interesting story, if a common one. It’s admirable that she got herself clean on her own. Very, very few junkies have the strength to do that, and it speaks volumes about her character. She got out of the life on her own and she should be very proud of that. Money is what’s holding her back. I smile at her gently. “That’s not such a horrible story,” I say. “So the fantasy isn’t destroyed?” “Not at all. Clean for how long?” “Two years,” she says. “And I’m also, you know, clean in the other way, too. The Syndicate tests us.” I nod, smiling. “I figured that.” “Sorry. I just... figured I should say. In case you were curious.” “I understand.” I reach out and take her hand.

“Thanks for telling me that.” She smiles and looks a little uncertain. I’m guessing most people treat her differently after she admits that she’s an addict, but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t see why it would bother me. She got herself clean and is trying to improve her life. If anything, that just shows how strong she is. I let go of her hand and go back to eating. We eat together in silence for a few minutes, both absorbing her story. “What about you?” she asks finally. “I’m clean too,” I say, and grin at her. She smiles. “I mean, your life. What brought you here?” She gestures at the house. “Not really an interesting story.” “It’s interesting to me.” I grin at her. “Okay then. When I was fifteen, I really liked building things and I was good with computers. When I was twenty, I started a company that specialized in streamlining the manufacturing process. And that company has been my life ever since, for over ten years.” “That’s not such a boring story,” she says.

“Sure it is. It’s mundane.” She laughs, genuinely happy. “None of this is mundane, Ethan.” “I have money. And I have nice things. But none of that is any more interesting than what you’ve been through.” “You’re right. I am the most interesting person I know.” She grins at me. I laugh and go back to eating. She watches me for a second before eating as well. She asks me about work and we fall into normal small talk, which is a welcome relief from the heavy conversation about her past. It’s comfortable, talking and eating with her, in a way that I didn’t expect. I assumed the games between us would be fun, but I had no idea that we’d have chemistry outside of the bedroom. Apparently we do, though. She’s whip-smart and clever and witty, which makes it easy to chat with her, even about nothing at all. As we finish up, I realize that this is the first meal I’ve shared with someone and really enjoyed in a long time. Normally I’m stuck with men like Richard Taylor or other boring business contacts, but Aria is different. She’s light and alive in ways I

never expected. When we’re finished, I put the plates back on the cart and sit back down, enjoying my whisky. She watches me for a second before speaking up. “What was your childhood like?” she asks. “You didn’t say anything about it.” I freeze for a second and look at her, trying to decide how to respond. “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say. She must not see that I’m serious, because she pushes on. “Come on, tell me. It can’t be that bad. You seem pretty well-adjusted.” I stand suddenly. “Thanks for eating with me,” I say. “What?” she asks. I grab the cart and wheel it back inside. “Wait, Ethan. I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about your past if you don’t want.” She follows me into the room. I wheel the cart to the front door, not sure why I’m reacting this way. Maybe it’s because I’ve never told anyone about my childhood, and I find myself wanting to tell her. But that’s dangerous. I’m not ready to open up yet, but with her it’s tempting.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, pushing the cart out into the hallway. She stands back in the room, watching me go, and we lock eyes for a minute. She looks sad, genuinely sad that I’m leaving, and I feel a sharp pang in my chest. But I can’t stay, not when I’m so tempted to tell her about my childhood and everything that happened to me. Instead, I smile at her and shut the door behind me. I walk back down the hall, leaving the cart by the elevator for the staff, before returning to my own room. That was a good night. I check the clock and am surprised that we were out there for two hours. The conversation flowed so easily. I feel bad about the way that ended, but I couldn’t help it. She opened up to me, but I’m not ready to do that yet. I should have just told her that I’m not ready, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I was too worried I’d start spilling my guts. I can’t have that. Not yet. Maybe I’ll tell her, but not tonight. I’ll make things right. I’ll make this up to her tomorrow. She’ll be happy that I stormed out tonight by the time I’m finished with her tomorrow.

For now, though, it’s bed alone and work early, because that’s my life.

10

ARIA

A

ll the next day, I keep thinking about the way Ethan reacted to my question about his past. It was strange and totally unexpected. He shut down almost instantly. There must be something in his past that he doesn’t like. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pushed back the way he did. Part of me is angry that he walked away the way that he did, especially after I opened up to him. But he listened to me and didn’t seem to judge me at all, which is really good. That was my biggest fear. I was worried that as soon as he found out about my past, he’d kick me out and want nothing to do with me. Clearly that’s not the case, though, and I’m very thankful for it. I just wish he’d apply his own thinking to his past.

He doesn’t judge people on their past, but he’s not willing to share his own, which makes me wonder. I won’t push him, because it’s my job to make him happy, but I feel like he owes me. At least a little bit. Maybe he doesn’t have to tell me every deep dark secret, but I opened up to him and he should give me the same respect in return. I can wait and give him some time to do it on his own volition, but I do feel a little betrayed. For better or for worse, I have all day to contemplate that. I’m stuck in my room again with only the company of Jenkins when he brings my meals plus whatever movies and books I can read. I make sure to text The Syndicate letting them know that I’m okay, but otherwise, I don’t have much to do. It’s not so bad, though. It’s boring of course, but it’s better than the way my life used to be. Plus, the amount of money I stand to make for this is astronomical, and all I have to do is keep myself as busy as possible. It’s like a beautiful and comfortable prison, or like a playpen for a loved pet. Maybe that’s exactly what he wants it to be. I am his little pet, after all. There are much worse things to be. There are worse places to be, too. I’ve been in a few of them. I can

remember one beat-up, decrepit house that Derek and I stayed in for a week or two back in the deepest throes of our addiction together, just before he died. That place was a mold-infested rat’s nest and yet we slept there, ate there, fucked there, and got high there for almost a week straight. We barely left that place and it felt like paradise. Mostly because I was high out of my mind. I feel so disgusted and embarrassed to look back on those days. I’ve worked so hard to better myself, to improve over the junky I used to be. But that junky is always there, buried in the back of my mind, and every day I fear she’ll break free and take over again. I just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I have so much to lose now. Around noon, Jenkins comes with my lunch. He wheels it in on a cart like usual, and it smells amazing. As he turns to leave, I stand up from the couch. We don’t normally talk, but today I suddenly feel a little bold. “Excuse me,” I say. He pauses and turns back to me. “Yes?” he asks, barely concealing his disdain. What a jerk. The man acts like giving me food is

like feeding a lizard or something. “I was wondering if I can go for a walk,” I say. “I’m just cooped up in here all day. I just hoped I could go around the block.” He pauses, his frown deepening. “Did Mr. Locks explain the rules to you?” he says. “He did. I just hoped I could get permission from you.” He shakes his head. “Permission denied.” I pause, surprised. “It’s just around the block. You can come with me if you want.” “No, thank you,” he says. “I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time to escort an... escort around the block.” I sigh, understanding. I guess it is pretty obvious what I am. And clearly Jenkins doesn’t approve. I can’t say I really blame him or am surprised. He probably has Ethan’s best interests at heart, and is afraid that I’m here to rob them all blind. I’m not, of course. I’m here to make Ethan happy. I’m here to do my job. But I can’t really explain that to this man. He’s clearly too proud and too stubborn to ever really get it. “Thanks,” I say, sitting back down.

“Will that be all?” “Yes, thank you.” He turns and leaves without another word. I sigh, stretching my legs. I’m so bored and cooped up. I get up and walk out onto the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. The city stretches out below me and I pass some time watching the people walk down the sidewalk, wishing I could be one of them, but knowing I’d never really trade places with any of them for anything. Despite all the difficulties, I am where I want to be. Hours pass, dinner comes and goes, and I’m almost ready to give up on another visit from Ethan when there’s a gentle knock at the door. I’m wearing my usual yoga pants and t-shirt, although I have on makeup and my hair is pulled up into a messy bun. I’m obeying his commands more or less. I wouldn’t wear makeup all day like this if I weren’t going to see anyone, but I can’t let myself fall apart completely. I have to put in some sort of effort for him at least, even if he wants me to be myself. Ethan steps into the room, looking as handsome as always. I put down my book and smile at him, surprised at the excitement that I feel in my stomach.

“How was work?” I ask him. He grins at me. “Work was fine. Couldn’t wait to leave.” “Why’s that?” He walks over to me and sits down on the chair across from me. “I wanted to see you. And to apologize for last night.” “There’s nothing to apologize about.” “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.” “You have things that you don’t want to talk about. I get it.” He sighs and leans back in the chair. I can see how tired he is suddenly, and I realize that he can’t sleep more than a few hours every night. His job is clearly demanding a lot of him, and he gives it everything he can. He probably doesn’t have time to get close to people. When he first bought me, I wondered why a man like Ethan could possibly want someone like me. I still feel unworthy. I am unworthy, truth be told, but now at least I understand why he’d want to buy me. Ethan doesn’t have time to meet women and to

fall in love like normal people. He’s working and living at an entirely different level, one that most normal people can’t even imagine. He makes a lot of money, but he sacrifices a lot for it. I see all of that in a sudden flash of insight as I watch his face. He looks back at me curiously, head cocked to one side. “What?” he asks. I pause for a second, trying to decide how to answer him. “I want to go for a walk,” I say quickly, blurting it out. I regret it right away. “Do you?” He leans forward, smiling. “Are you bored in here?” “I just feel like I need to exercise. “There’s a treadmill in the other room. And you can go onto the balcony for fresh air.” “It’s not the same.” His smile gets bigger. “Didn’t I punish you for this already?” I nod, feeling a thrill run through me. “You did. But I don’t care. I want to go outside.” “No,” he says, and I can see him warming up to the game. “Do I need to punish you again?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “I won’t learn otherwise.” His grin gets huge as he stands. “Good girl,” he says. “You’re learning.” He walks toward me and I watch him, heart hammering in my chest. He leans down and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, then roughly pulls me toward the bed. “Ethan!” I say. “I’m sorry, am I being too hard with you?” he asks, smirking at me. He pulls me toward him, hands on my hips, and I let out a soft moan. “Is this more like what you want?” he asks, his lips on my neck. I throw my arms around him. “Yes,” I whisper. “But this isn’t a punishment.” He grabs my hair, tipping my head back. I gasp as he kisses my throat. “You just want pleasure. But you can’t have pleasure without pain.” “Who says?” I ask. “I do.” He smirks at me and pulls back, still holding my hair. He walks me over to the foot of the bed. “Down on your knees,” he commands. I obey, falling to my knees. He pulls the tie off his

neck then takes my wrists, both of them together, and wraps the silk tie around them. He takes my hands and puts them above my head before tying me to the top of the headboard. When he’s done, I’m down on my knees in front of him, hands above my head. I test the bond but it’s expertly tied, tight but not so tight that it’s cutting off circulation. He steps back and looks at me. “What do I do with you now?” he asks, a smile on his face that says he knows exactly what he wants. “Show me,” I whisper, my body a ringing mess of excitement. “Since you ask so nicely,” he says, “I will.” He takes off his jacket and I feel like I might pass out from the hard beating of my heart. He carefully lays his jacket over the back of a chair then rolls his sleeves up slowly, watching me the whole time. I keep my eyes locked on his, trying to steady my breathing, but I can barely handle it. Finally, sleeves rolled up, he walks over to me. He adjusts my body, sitting me down on my ass, stretching my hands up further above my head. Then he takes my yoga pants and slowly slides them off my body. When he’s done, I’m sitting on the ground in just a

blue thong, dripping wet and useless at this point, my hands tied above my head. He carefully folds my pants and places them on the bed before walking into the closet. He returns a second later with what I assume is a vibrator. It’s long, thick, and white. He walks over to me and puts me back on my knees before placing the vibrator between my legs and switching it on. Nothing happens. It doesn’t move. I stare at him, legs clenched, waiting for the sensation to tear through me, but nothing happens. “Now, we’ll play a game,” he says. He holds up a little switch in his hand. “This controls the vibrator. I’ll ask you a question, and if you answer it the right way, I’ll give you pleasure. Like this.” He turns it on. I groan softly as the vibrator buzzes between my legs. I can’t help but smile slightly and press against my bonds. He leaves it on for a few seconds then stops. “What’s your name?” he asks. “Aria,” I say. The vibrator turns on, low and slow. I bite my lip. “What are you?”

I cock my head at him. “An escort.” He turns the vibrator off. “Wrong. I’ll ask again. What are you?” I pause, watching him. “Your pet,” I whisper. “Good girl.” He turns the vibrator back on, this time on a higher setting. I can’t help but let out a little moan. The vibrator is right against my clit and it’s moving at a soft and perfect buzz, sending pleasure up my spine. I can’t move or get away from it, and that just makes it so much more intense. “What do you want from me?” he asks. “I don’t know,” I moan. He turns the vibrator down. Not off, but down. “What do you want from me?” he asks again. “Your cock,” I groan suddenly, surprising myself. He smiles and turns the vibrator up. I moan, tossing my head back. “Good girl. Now, do you want to leave your room?” “No,” I moan. “No, please. I don’t want to leave.” “Good.” He turns it up again and I gasp as pleasure

floods through me. He stands there watching me for a few seconds and it’s almost too intense. “You want to make me happy?” he asks. “Yes,” I moan. “Badly.” He turns the vibrator down. I moan, watching him, not sure what I did wrong. “If you could leave right now with the money, would you walk away?” I watch him, trying to think, not sure what to say. I feel like there’s an obvious answer. But I want to be honest. Would I leave right now if I’d get paid? I’m supposed to be here for the money and nothing else. That sort of cash would change my life and put me on a path to a better existence. I could be happy and free with that money. No, I realize. I wouldn’t leave. I don’t want to go anywhere. Maybe the cash would change my life but I’d rather stay and learn more about Ethan. I’m fascinated by him. Actually, I’m attracted to him in ways that I couldn’t imagine. It’s this, his little games. They feel so good and push me so far. I’ve never felt like this before. “No,” I say honestly. “I wouldn’t.”

He watches me for a second then smiles and turns up the vibrator again. Pleasure rips through my core. “Good girl,” he whispers, then steps closer to me. I look up at him, moans escaping my lips, pleasure rocking through my body. I can barely think and I don’t know what I’ll say to him if he asks me any more questions. There’s only one thing that I want, and it’s him, his body, his touch. I crave it so badly, and yet he’s holding it back. I know he’s doing it on purpose but I want to scream for it, I want to beg for it. I can feel the words on my lips, the begging that might get me what I want. He crouches down in front of me and puts his hand on the side of my face. I move over and take his thumb between my lips, sucking on it, biting it softly. I look him in his eyes and I can see the desire there, almost as strong as mine. “Do you want to come?” he asks me. “Yes,” I moan, tossing my head back. “Please, I want it so badly.” “You want to get off, my little pet?” “Please, Ethan,” I moan. “Get me off.” He turns the vibrator down. I gasp, shocked. “Ethan!” I moan, practically whining.

He stands. “I think you’ve been punished enough.” “What?” I moan. He turns off the vibrator and takes it away. “Ethan!” He unties my hands. They drop down to my sides and I stare at him, so frustrated, even a little angry. How could he stop right there? How could this be over? I was so close, right on the edge, and he’s walking away? I’m actually pissed off. I like his games but not if it means I’m going to be pushed but not given the release that I need. “When I leave the room,” he says, looking at me, “I want you to finish yourself off. Do you understand?” I pause then stare at him and slowly nod. “I understand.” “Good girl. But you can’t use this.” He holds up the vibrator. “I want you to fuck your little pussy with those fingers and come as hard as you can.” “Yes, Ethan,” I say, excitement ringing through me again. “Good girl. I’ll be listening right on the other side of that door.” He touches my face again and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me.

But he doesn’t. He turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. I don’t waste a single second. I spread my legs wide, shove my hand down my panties, and press my fingers deep inside of my pussy. I lean forward, braced on one hand on the floor, knees spread wide, as I fuck myself, moaning his name.

11

ETHAN

A

s soon as the door clicks shut, I press my back against it and let out a deep groan.

The hallway is clear as I listen to what’s going on back inside that room. I can hear her moaning, her voice getting loud and deep, and suddenly I hear her say my name. I hear her say my name. It drives me fucking wild. That whole experience was a test in patience and self-control for me. All I wanted to do was slide my cock down her pretty throat and fuck her until I came, but I knew it was too soon. I need to keep pushing the boundaries, keep building the suspense. I need to control everything about this.

But fuck, I don’t want to be in control. I unzip my fly and take out my cock, unable to stop myself. I’m hard as hell, practically ringing with need. I begin to stroke myself, listening to her fuck herself with her fingers. Goddamn, I want to go back in there. I want to go in and watch her do exactly what I told her to do. I can hear her voice getting louder, her breathing getting deeper, and I know she’s making herself come. I stroke myself faster, desire and pleasure exploding through my body. I don’t know how I kept my hands off her back there. I started out intending just to tease her a bit, but it was just too fucking hot. I had to stop and get out of there before I lost control and did something more than just tease. Everything about Aria makes my blood run hot. She sends fire through my veins. She’s fascinating, sexy, smart, and clever all at once, and it pushes me to my limits. I thought this might be a fun game, seducing some attractive escort, but the game is getting far more intense than I ever could have guessed. I want her down on all fours, legs stretched wide as my cock slides into her tight little cunt. I want to feel that tight, hot, wet pussy of hers wrapped around my dick as I pump myself deep inside of

her. I want to tear her apart as I fuck her like an animal, listening to her moans, feeling her skin. I want to sweat with her. I want to make her come. I want to taste it. As her moans get loud and reach their peak, I keep pumping my cock until I come right there in the hallway. I groan, pushing my head back against the door and listening for a moment. She goes quiet on her end, and I know she’s finished, too. Although we didn’t actually touch each other, that was one of the most erotic and intense sexual experiences of my life. I didn’t think it would go this far, and yet here I am, unable to fucking stop myself from getting off while listening to her moans. I stand there in the hallway, breathing deep as the orgasm slowly wears off. I let out a sigh and slide myself back into my pants before lingering there for a moment longer, trying to picture what she looks like on the other side of that door. I can see her, flush with exertion, fingers slick from her own juices. Maybe she licks them clean, maybe she simply wipes them off on her already dripping wet and useless panties. Her nipples are hard under her thin t-shirt and she’s

panting, breathing heavily, and thinking about me. She probably wants to know what it feels like for me to fuck her, maybe wants to know as much as I do. Slowly, the fantasy passes. I get myself together and head down the hall into my own bedroom. I undress quickly and get into the shower, cleaning myself off and trying to clear my head. It’s too soon to be feeling this way. The idea of being unable to control myself around her is a little frightening. It makes me feel uneasy, to be completely honest with myself. I want to be able to have strict control at all times, but out there in the hallway, I lost the ability to hold back. All because of her. Aria pushes me just as much as I push her, though she doesn’t realize it. I told myself I wasn’t going to fuck her until she genuinely wants it, and I still feel that way. It’s why I’m only teasing her so far. But I didn’t expect to want to take her body more than I wanted to hold back and play my game. As the water runs down my body, I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same thing, but the other way around. I know she’s starting to want it, really and truly want it, and I can’t help but wonder if she is surprised by that. Maybe she didn’t expect to actually want me to take her. She could still be

trying to see this as just another game to play. I don’t know what to think. And it’s not a good feeling. For most of my life, I’ve been in strict control of my situations as best I possibly can. Now, suddenly, with Aria, I feel like I’m losing a bit of that measured control and I don’t like it. I wash myself under the warm water, thinking of her body in the other room, and wondering how I even got here to begin with.

12

ARIA

I

barely see him for nearly a week.

After that night with the vibrator, he doesn’t come for two days. I’m bored out of my mind, but I do my best to pass the time. I get permission on the second day from him through Jenkins to go on a short walk every day, but only so long as I’m chaperoned. Jenkins makes one of the housecleaners, a girl named Camilla that barely speaks any English, go with me. That suits me just fine, though, since I don’t want to talk anyway. On my walk, I go around the block. I have twenty minutes to spend, and I use every minute looking around at the city and stretching my legs. Camilla walks next to me and smiles when we look at each other, but otherwise we’re silent with each other.

It’s actually pretty nice, but I wish it were Ethan with me instead of Camilla. I don’t know why he doesn’t come to see me. After the third day, he comes for dinner, but he doesn’t stay long, and we don’t play any games. We talk about his work and I tell him about my walks, and he agrees to let me have a half hour instead of twenty minutes. Two days after that, he comes for dinner again, and again the next night. But we don’t play any games, and our conversation is simple, almost boring. He seems more reserved and I don’t understand why. He also seems even more tired, if that’s possible. He’s apologetic, and tries to make it up to me by sending gifts, but I don’t need gifts. Although I can’t really complain about getting things. He sends beautiful dresses, jewelry, a new laptop, a new cellphone, scarves, gloves, a new coat, and a hundred other little things. It’s all perfect and expensive, and frankly more than I’ve ever gotten on my own, but I’d give it all up if he’d just come to see me more often. Which is a strange thought. After seven days of this, with only seeing him three times in that week, I find myself getting antsy. I keep having negative thoughts, angry thoughts, and I don’t understand it. Why do I care if he doesn’t come? That just means

my life should be easier. I don’t have to worry about pleasing him if he never comes. But I am worried that I’m not good enough, that I’m not living up to his expectations in some way. He doesn’t say that, of course, but I don’t think he would. He’s a good man. But I crave his attention. I feel silly about it, but it’s the truth. I crave his attention like a lovesick teenager or something, which only makes me feel much crazier. Maybe I’m sick. I’m not supposed to want the man that bought me at an escort auction. I’m supposed to just make him happy and collect my check when it’s all over. Instead, I’m angry that he’s not giving me the attention I deserve. I feel like a spoiled brat, but I don’t care about all these gifts. I don’t need any of them. I felt something during that night with the vibrator. I could see it in his eyes as he turned it up and down, teasing me, pushing me. I know he wants me, more than just sex, more than just as a pet to be used however he wants. I saw something more than that, much deeper, like he couldn’t control it. When I got myself off, I could have sworn I heard him grunting on the other side of the bedroom door. That’s probably crazy, but I can still picture the sounds, and part of me believes he was getting

himself off at the same time I was. There’s something lingering between us and I need to know what it is. I stand up and look at all the things he bought me. I know he’s going to come home from work soon, or at least when he does come home, he comes home about this time. So I go over to the balcony and open up the door. Next, I grab one of the dresses he bought me, and I walk outside. I take it out of the box, take one last look, and then I throw it into the street. I laugh as it hits the ground and I cover my mouth. “I can’t believe I did that,” I say out loud to myself. And it’s true, I can’t believe it. This is so freaking crazy. I could get his attention some other way, something that’s not so public, but I find myself walking back into the bedroom, getting another dress, and throwing it out into the street. This one lands in a nearby tree, which only makes me laugh. I grab another dress and I throw it, along with a box of chocolates, some flowers, and a scarf. It lands in the street and on the sidewalk, and someone looks up at me. Someone else yells, but I don’t care. I throw down more clothes, pillows, blankets, and I

can’t stop myself from laughing the whole time. By the time I’m finished, the street looks like someone dumped their girlfriend by throwing her clothes out the window. People are already starting to push the stuff off to the side, and one or two things get grabbed by people that recognize their worth. There’s probably a few thousand dollars’ worth of stuff down there on the ground, and all I can do is laugh about it. I feel so totally crazy, but I also feel free. I don’t feel any inhibitions at all. This is what he needs, a little wildness in his life. He needs a little levity and excitement. Maybe he doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m going to give it to him. And this is the first step. This will get his attention. If he doesn’t come see me soon, I don’t know what will work.

13

ETHAN

I

t’s around midnight when I get a call on my cellphone from Jenkins.

“Sir, it’s the girl.” I pause. “She has a name.” “Aria.” He says it like he’s drinking poison. “She threw her clothes out the window.” “What?” I say, taken aback. “Sir, she took some of the gifts you’ve given her and she threw them out her window. I’ve sent Camilla to clean them up, but I fear she’s made a scene.” I can’t help but grin. “Made a scene?”

“Yes, sir. The neighbors are talking.” “Of course. I wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors.” “I thought you should know.” “Thank you, Jenkins. I’ll take care of it.” “Of course.” I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, smiling but perplexed. Why the hell would she throw her things out the window? I’m sure it drove Jenkins absolutely insane to see that, but he couldn’t do anything about it but tattle on her to me. He’s under orders to indulge her every whim, and apparently her whims involve throwing her clothes out a window. Aria doesn’t seem like a crazy and irrational person. I know she’s bored being all pent-up in that room, and I haven’t been very attentive lately. I sit, crossing my legs. I’m done for the night, and I know I should go see her. But I’ve been avoiding her. Ever since that night that I got myself off in the hallway, unable to stop myself, I’ve been afraid to see her. I don’t know if I can keep myself under control around her. When I have gone to her, I’ve kept it distant, although I

really just want to throw the table over and fuck her against the railing over the balcony. I can’t put it off anymore. And I can’t let this little tantrum go unpunished. I call the car and stand, smiling to myself. This is what she wants. There’s no doubt in my mind that she did this just to get me to react. She can tell that I’m being distant and she probably doesn’t know what else to do. I’m betting she figures if she does something like this then I’ll have to punish her. And her punishments are so much fun for both of us. My heart is beating fast on the ride home. I know I’m going to punish her, and it only makes me more excited to realize that she probably wants it. She wants me to spank her, tie her up, fuck her however I want. Which means I’ll have to think of a punishment that she won’t see coming. I spend the car ride envisioning what I’ll do, and finally come up with a fantastic idea. It’s simple, but she won’t expect it at all. It’s not at all what I’ve done in the past, and that’s what makes it so attractive. I can barely wait to see her as the car drops me off

out front. I haven’t felt like this in a while, and it feels good to let loose a little bit. I know I should be trying to moderate my emotions, but I just keep thinking about what I’m going to do to her that I can’t help it. Jenkins meets me in the kitchen. “Sir,” he says. “The girl is sleeping, I believe.” “That’s okay.” I grab a bottle of whisky from the cabinet and pour myself a drink. “You can go to bed, Jenkins.” “Of course, sir.” He pauses, frowning. “May I speak frankly?” I pour myself a drink and nod. “Go ahead.” “I think the girl is a liability. It’s obvious what she, ah, is, and your work duties are particularly sensitive now. I’d hate to see you lose something because of this... girl.” I smile at him and sip my drink. “Thanks, Jenkins. That’ll be all.” “Of course. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” He disappears into the back rooms. He’ll sleep here tonight, like he does most nights. He practically lives here, to be honest, and that’s okay with me.

For the most part, Jenkins is discreet and honest and does an incredible job. If he speaks out of turn sometimes, well, I’ll have to accept it as one of his quirks. I finish my drink, pour another, and then head upstairs, heart beating hard. Aria might be asleep right now, but she won’t be for long. I stop out front of her door and softly open it, trying not to make much noise. The room is pitch dark as I slowly creep across the floor by memory. I can hear her breathing softly in bed, deep and steady, which means she’s definitely asleep. I smile to myself as I slowly pull the curtains open, letting the moonlight drift into the room, illuminating it in soft silvery gray. I step back toward the bed and look down at her for a moment. She’s twisted in the covers, half in and half out, one leg tossed casually over the bedding. She’s wearing a little black tank top without a bra and gray panties, cute boy shorts. I stand there, admiring her body for a second, wondering how the hell I got here. This girl is a total stranger to me, and yet she lives in this room. I keep her like a pet and I absolutely love it, though I never thought I would in a million years. There she is though, sleeping soundly in this

room, and I know I can have her if I want to. I can do anything to her right now, and chances are she’d let me. That’s not what I’m here for, not exactly anyway. I’m here to punish her. And I know exactly how I’m going to do it. Carefully, I take off my jacket and toss it over the back of a chair. I roll up my sleeves then slowly climb into bed. She stirs softly as I roll her onto her back, spreading her legs. She mumbles something as I kiss her stomach. “Ethan?” she says. I don’t respond. I kiss lower until I find her pussy, taking a deep breath, relishing her scent. I begin to kiss her over her panties. I kiss her pussy, her inner thigh, her stomach, and I know she’s wide awake now. I slowly slide the panties down her legs, not saying a word. She doesn’t move, but I catch her watching me, her eyes slightly wide. Not from fear, but from pure excitement. I toss her panties onto the floor before moving back down between her legs. She’s wet already and getting wetter. I begin to lap her up, sucking her clit, enjoying her taste. I love

the soft noises she starts making, almost as if she can’t help herself, like she’s trying to hold them back. Maybe she wants to try and pretend to still be asleep, as if that were my fetish or something. I want her to wake the fuck up. I slide two fingers deep into her pussy and she gasps and lets out a deep moan. I grin at her then go back to work, fingers deep inside of her, mouth and lips on her swollen clit. I keep licking her, nibbling her, sliding my fingers in and out of her. I listen as her moans get louder and she suddenly wraps her fingers through my hair as I press my tongue against her clit just the right way. “Oh shit,” she groans. I begin to fuck her faster with my fingers, pushing them deep and sliding them back out. She squirms against me, writhing her hips, and I keep licking and sucking her clit as I fuck her with my fingers. I get up on my knees, getting more leverage as I keep fucking her with my fingers. Her groans turn into full-on moans, loud and full. She says my name, again and again, and my cock is hard as fuck as I keep sucking her perfect clit. I can’t stop. I intended to get her to the edge then pull back, but I can’t stop myself. She’s getting louder, writhing faster, pressing my face faster as

she moves her hips, and I know she’s close. I can practically taste her dangling on the edge of finally getting off, and I want it. I want to taste her come in my mouth as my fingers fuck her tight little pussy. I’m losing my mind as I keep going, keep working her. I’m hard as fuck and barely holding myself back from taking her tight little cunt as my own. I keep fucking her, sliding my fingers in, sucking her clit. “Ethan, fuck, I’m so close,” she moans. I look up at her, fingers sliding in harder, fucking her deeper. “Come for me,” I command her. “Right now. I want to taste it.” “Ethan!” she gasps. “Go ahead. Come in my mouth, you filthy fucking girl. I want it.” “Oh god,” she moans and I go back to work, sucking her, sliding my fingers in faster, until her back starts to arch and I know she’s coming. Her voice gets louder, lower, and her fingers grab my hair tightly. Her whole body reacts and I don’t let up. I keep fucking her pussy though I pull back and watch her face as she comes. She’s fucking gorgeous, in absolute ecstasy, and I can barely

fucking handle it myself. She comes hard and says my name, over and over, like she’s begging for more. When she’s finally done, I slide my fingers out from her then gently lick her up again. I tease her clit and lick her pussy, sliding my tongue inside, tasting her every drop. “Ethan,” she moans. “Please.” “Please what?” I ask. She sits forward and pulls my face up. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing deep. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Please.” I look at her for a second then gently pull away from her, smiling and shaking my head. “No,” I say, and I get off the bed. “What?” “No,” I say again. “I won’t.” “But...” She trails off, watching me. “You’re not ready,” I say. “I’m ready.” Her eyes are bright and excited. “Ethan, please. I’m ready.” I stand next to the bed and take her cheek in my

hand, looking down at her gorgeous face. I pause for a second and in that moment, I want to fuck her. I think she really means it. I think she genuinely wants me to take her, not just as my escort and my pet, but as herself. There are no barriers or guards up right now, it’s just her, just Aria watching me with desperate and desiring eyes. I can’t do it, though. I can’t give in to her. This is meant to be her punishment, even if she does genuinely want it. Instead, I kiss her. I can’t help myself. I kiss her full and deep and she kisses me back with a hunger that surprises me. She presses herself closer to me, arms wrapped around my neck, and we kiss like that for what seems like forever, though it’s likely only a few seconds. She tastes like wildflowers and fresh grass, and I’m surprised by how deeply I lose myself in the moment. But eventually, I get control over myself, and I slowly pull back. She looks up at me, not sure of what’s happening. “This is your punishment,” I say softly. Recognition enters her eyes and she gives me a sly smile. “You heard about that.” “You’ve been bad. Very bad.” I reach forward and

take her hair, kneeling down next to the bed. “You could have embarrassed me, you know.” “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve just been so lonely.” I watch her for a second, but I don’t feel anger, which surprises me. It’s true that she could have embarrassed me. My position isn’t the kind of thing that allows for that kind of public display. I’m not exactly famous, but there are people in this world who would love to get a scoop on me and possibly destroy me. I do have to be careful, and Aria risked that by throwing her things into the street. But I don’t feel anger. I gently release her hair, realizing that I feel more alive and excited than I have in a long time. It’s stupid and risky, but maybe I need stupid and risky sometimes. “Don’t do it again,” I say. “I won’t. I promise.” “Good.” I stand up. “But please,” she says. “Visit me more. Don’t leave me alone in here. The walks are nice but... they’re not enough.” I stare at her for a moment and I get another glimpse of her genuine self. I can see it written all

over her face. She’s desperate for more attention. And I want to give it to her. The out-of-control feeling I get around her maybe isn’t as bad as I first thought. Maybe it feels pretty damn good, actually. I just need to be careful. But she’s mine, my pet, and I have to make sure that she’s happy. I screwed up by leaving her alone, but I’ll make up for that. “I promise,” I say. “I won’t leave you alone for too long again.” She smiles and looks relieved. “Thank you.” “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.” She nods and I turn away, walking over to the chair. I grab my jacket and toss it over my shoulder before looking back at her. She’s sitting up in bed, watching me with wide, gorgeous, innocent eyes. She’s flushed from getting off and she’s biting her lip, clearly confused about what just happened. Her hair is messy and her shirt is slightly askew. She looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her before. I turn and leave, knowing full well that I’ll be back very soon. I can’t stay away from her. I have about three more weeks left with her, and I’ll be damned

if I waste anymore of that time. I head back to my room, unable to get her taste from my mouth, and happy that it won’t leave.

14

ARIA

I

wake up early, still buzzing with excitement. Last night almost feels like a dream, and if it weren’t for the fact that the curtains are still drawn open, I might even think it really was. But I know it wasn’t. Ethan came to me in the middle of the night, woke me up, and gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m still floating high from it. That orgasm was better than any shot of heroin I ever took, because it couldn’t kill me and because there was a promise of more. I can already see myself getting addicted to him. That was one of the most intense and erotic moments in my life, if not the most. I stretch and yawn, still thinking about his touch, and about his

kiss. I didn’t expect his kiss. I was beginning to think he didn’t want to get intimate with me in that way. But when he did kiss me, it shot a bolt of lightning through my core. I felt like I was floating on air again, ready to give myself to him even more. I sigh and roll onto my side. I look up and out the window and can just see the tops of the buildings across the street. Cars drive by down below and I think I can hear people talking. I’m not sure what time it is, but I’m guessing it’s still pretty early based on the way the sun is shining. I can’t help but think about something he said to me. When I begged him to fuck me, he said that I wasn’t ready. I didn’t understand what he meant, and still don’t. I am ready. I don’t think he knows how much I actually want him. I thought I’d fuck him and it would just be like doing a job. Maybe I’d enjoy it a little bit, but in the end it would just be work. This isn’t like that, though. I genuinely want him. If I weren’t getting paid, I’d still want him. If he were just some poor man with no money and no prospects, I’d still want him. I am ready for it, and frankly, I need it. But he’s still holding back from me, and I’m not totally sure

why. Maybe it has something to do with his past. I can’t really say how, but maybe he needs something from me before he thinks I’m ready to actually sleep with him. Things have been intimate as hell already between us, and I have no clue how I can do any more. But I want to do more. I want to show him I’m ready. Maybe throwing that little tantrum was a bad idea. It definitely worked, but I can see how it was stupid of me. I keep thinking of him as a normal man, but he’s far from normal. He’s rich and in control of an important company. His name pops up in the media from time to time, which means people are watching him and judging his moves. Throwing a public tantrum like I did could easily have gotten his name in the papers, and I don’t think that’s something he wants. Ethan seems like an incredibly private man, despite working for a very public company and in a very public position. Despite living in his house for over a week, I feel like I still barely know him. I need to be more discreet from now on. I promised him that I won’t do something like that again, and I definitely won’t. I just hope that it won’t have

repercussions down the road for him. I lie back and close my eyes, trying to imagine him again. His face firm against my thighs and his mouth and fingers know exactly what they’re doing. I feel a thrill run down my spine as my pussy gets wet again, surprising me a little bit by my own blind and intense desire. I’m suddenly pulled out of my fantasy by a knock at the door. It’s just one knock, and I know it’s him. A second later, Ethan comes into the room. He’s not wearing his usual suit. Instead, he’s only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and a tight white t-shirt, showing off his body. He’s in impressive condition, with muscles bursting against the cotton. He smirks at me, and I know what that smile means. “Good morning,” he says. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone for long.” “Good morning.” I sit up and look at him. He pulls his hands from behind his back and is holding another one of those silk pieces of rope. “We’re going to play another game.” My heart quickens in my chest and I can’t help but smile. I didn’t expect this so soon, but I want it. “Okay,” I say.

“Good girl. Are you excited?” I nod quickly. “Yes.” “Good. Get out of bed.” I quickly get up and stand in front of him. I’m half naked, still just wearing a new pair of panties, though already starting to get wet, and a black tank top. “Stand at the foot of the bed,” he says. I obey and look at him, dripping wet, aching for his next command. “Turn around and get down on your knees.” I turn my back to him then get down on my knees. I look over my shoulder and watch as he comes up from behind me. “Hands on the footboard,” he says. I reach up and grasp it. He crosses my wrists, his body close to mine. I can feel his breath on my neck as he expertly ties my wrists together and then to the bed, cinching them tight, but not too tight. He steps back and I turn to watch him. “Spread your legs,” he says. I spread them wide for him, arching my back a little

bit, letting him see my ass. I’m dripping wet and I can barely hear over the pounding of my heart. “Good,” he says. “That’s how I like you. Wet and willing.” I looked over my shoulder at him, blushing slightly. “What else do you want me to do?” I ask him. He walks over and stops behind me before crouching down. I feel his hands on my hips and I roll my head back as his lips find my neck. “Is this what you like?” he asks me. “That feels good,” I say as he kisses my skin. “Good.” He moves back suddenly and pushes me forward. I gasp as he spanks my ass, hard. “Ethan!” “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” I look over my shoulder at him, ass stinging slightly. “No,” I lie to him. He grins and spanks me again, this time even harder. I groan, surprised at how the sensation makes me feel. I thought it would simply hurt and make me not want to play anymore, but it has the opposite effect. It makes me absolutely dripping wet, and almost feels strangely good.

I feel his hand rub my ass then slide down between my legs. He finds my soaking cleft and starts to rub my pussy with one hand. He takes my hair in the other and pulls my head back. “Do you like pleasure, or do you like pain?” he asks. “Pleasure,” I say. He stops rubbing my pussy, but doesn’t release my hair. “Are you sure?” “I don’t know,” I groan. He releases my hair and pushes my head forward slightly before spanking my other ass cheek. I moan and he does it again, harder. “You look gorgeous,” he says. “Dripping wet with two red hand prints on your ass.” His fingers find my pussy again, rubbing me from behind over my useless and soaked panties. “Why do you tease me?” I ask him suddenly, blurting it out. I can feel his smirk against my neck. “Because I like it,” he says. “Do you like it?” “I don’t know,” I moan, not sure what to think. I can’t think, not really.

He takes my hair and tips my head back before kissing me. I moan into his kiss as his fingers do their work, rubbing my pussy. I want to grab his hair but I can’t move my wrists. I’m completely bound to the bed still. He breaks off the kiss and stops rubbing me. He slaps my ass again and the pain tingles up my spine. He begins back on my pussy as the pain and the pleasure mix, hitting each other in my skull, making it dizzy with an indescribable pleasure. “That’s right,” he whispers. “Pleasure and pain. They’re not so different, you know. A little bit of one makes the other better. A little salt makes sweet stronger. Do you understand now?” “Yes,” I moan. “Good.” He stops. “This is your last punishment.” “What?” He stands. I stare at his bulging cock, straining against his boxer briefs. He slowly slides them off and I gape at his enormous cock as he slowly strokes it. “Holy shit,” I blurt out. He laughs. “That’s what I like to hear.” “Sorry,” I say quickly, hiding my embarrassment by

looking away. “Don’t be sorry, pet,” he says. “Look at me.” I look back at his thick cock and bite my lip. I can’t believe he’s so big. I suddenly don’t know how I can even fit that whole thing inside of me. “You’re going to make me feel good now,” he says. “Do you understand?” “Yes,” I say. “Whatever you want.” “No,” he says, and bends over to take my hair again. “Tell me you want it. And don’t lie, or the punishments continue.” “I want it,” I say, and I know I’m not lying. I want this badly. I want to suck his cock or take him deep inside of me, whatever he wants. I’ve been aching to taste him, to make him feel good. Not just because I was hired to do that, but because it’s him and he deserves it. “Good girl,” he says, and lets me go. I open my mouth and take the tip of his cock between my lips. He groans and moves forward, sliding it deeper into my mouth. I can barely take him, but I try anyway. He’s so thick but I want him, want him inside of my mouth. I pull back and slide forward, sucking him, rolling

my tongue along his skin. His groans of pleasure send waves of joy along my spine, and I love the way he tastes. It’s such a strange feeling, loving the way he can so easily control me and take me. I feel both sexy and helpless and totally turned on. I know I can end this at any time if I say the word, but I don’t want to. He takes my hair and presses me down, and I let his cock go into my throat. I suppress a gag, tears springing into my eyes in reaction, but I just ignore them. I pull back and start to suck him faster, concentrating on the tip. I want to use my hands on his enormous cock, but I can’t. “Fuck, girl,” he grunts. “Watching you suck my cock, helpless like that, makes me fucking insane.” I groan with his cock in my mouth. He presses me back down and I take him, wanting him so badly. He starts to fuck my mouth, sliding himself in and out, but not pushing himself too deep. He seems to sense my limit, and he doesn’t cross the line. He tests it, pressing himself deep enough that I almost want to gag, but pulls back just before. “You’re a perfect fucking pet,” he whispers, cock sliding in and out of my mouth. “Look at you, sexy as fuck with my cock in your mouth. You like being tied up and sucking cock, don’t you?” I moan, nodding my head, eyes up at him. He pulls

out of my mouth then kisses me deeply. It’s the most intimate kiss I’ve ever experienced, and I wish it wouldn’t end. But he pulls back and slides his cock back into my mouth. He fucks my lips, holding onto my hair, and starts to push my boundary. I want him to, I want to see how far I can take him. He slides himself deeper into my throat and I suppress another gag, ignoring the tears that spring to my eyes. They’re just stupid responses of my body. I want to control them. I press forward, leaning into him, until I have his entire cock in my throat. “Oh fuck,” he groans, half laughing from the joy and pleasure. “You’re fucking incredible.” He pulls back and I gasp, looking up at him, smiling. “Fuck,” he says again, kissing me, and presses his cock back in my mouth. I work with him, moving my neck, bobbing my head along his cock, not afraid to be sloppy. I don’t care at this point. I let my spit cover his cock as he fucks my mouth and I suck him, my tongue running along his whole length, his groans filling my ears. I can tell he’s close, and I want him to come. I want to taste him, swallow him, make him know that I want him to feel good. I want to lick him clean when he’s finished and spoil him as much as he

spoils me. His hips move faster, fucking my mouth, and I keep pace with him. I take him, moaning as he fucks my mouth, and his groans get louder. His fingers curl through my hair, holding it tightly, and I know he’s there. His cum fills my mouth as he grunts through the orgasm. I keep moving, sucking him fast, swallowing every single drop as he explodes into my throat. I use my tongue to gather it all from his tip and slowly I finish, pulling back and licking him clean. “Fuck,” he grunts when he’s done. He steps back, flush and gaping at me. “That was fucking incredible.” I smile at him. “Good. I wanted it to be.” He pulls his briefs back up and sits down on a chair, watching me. I watch him back and cock my head. “What?” I ask. “You’re beautiful,” he says. “Fucking beautiful. You know that?” I look away, surprised that I’m blushing. “Thanks,” I say. He stands and walks over to me. He tips my head

back and kisses me again, long and slow. I lose myself in that kiss, enjoying it and asking for nothing more. Finally he breaks off and unties my hands. “I have to go to work,” he says as I stand up. “Okay,” I say, stretching my legs. My knees are a little sore and my ass still tingles, but that’s not bad. “Will you be back later?” He nods. “I will if I can. Promise. If not tonight, tomorrow morning.” “Good.” I walk up to him and put my hands on his chest. “Don’t leave me here alone.” “I won’t.” I kiss him softly, his hands on my hips. We linger there for a second, and it feels good, so freaking good. Almost as if it’s normal, and we do this all the time. He kisses me one more time then leaves. He shuts the door softly behind him, and I’m left alone again. I’m buzzing as I take a shower. I can’t stop thinking about him, about Ethan, and what I’m becoming. Maybe I really am his pet. When this is all over, and it’s time to leave, am I going to be able to walk

away? I can’t think about that right now. He probably won’t even want me. He did only buy me for a month. Maybe he’ll get tired of me by the end. That’ll hurt, hurt a lot, but it’ll be okay. I’ll survive it, I hope. For now though, I have to enjoy it. Really enjoy it. I’ve been given a gift, something I never expected, and now I just have to accept it and be in it for as long as I can.

15

ETHAN

I

can’t get Aria out of my head at all that morning. I’m practically buzzing with desire for her even hours after I last

saw her. Knowing that she’s back in my house, sitting in that room and waiting for me drives me insane. I know she’s there for me and nobody else, and nobody else can touch her. I didn’t expect to feel this possessive of her, but there’s something about the fact that she’s entirely mine and mine alone that brings me immense satisfaction. It was stupid of me to back away from her for that week. I freaked out a little bit when I realized that my self-control was waning around her, but that shouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Isn’t the

whole point of having her to let myself have some fun? There is danger in this. Aria’s tantrum was public and problematic, but I can’t really blame her. I would have felt much the same way if I were cooped up in a room for days with nothing to do. Even at my home where everything is provided for her, it would still be so easy to feel incredibly lonely. I neglected her and I deserved that punishment. It won’t happen again. Not after this morning. Not after last night. I lean back at my desk and take a deep breath. It’s around noon and I have a lunch appointment with Richard Taylor soon, but I’m not really thinking about that. My mind is only on her. And what her next punishment will be. I want to fuck her so badly I can barely stand it. Frankly, it’s taking all of my willpower not to leave work in the middle of the day and go home to have her. I know that would be irresponsible of me, considering the important business I need to get through today, but god damn. I know she’s so close to genuinely wanting it, if she doesn’t already. She’s on the edge and I want to tip her over. I want to taste every inch of her. That skin, smooth

and perfect, and those perfect pink little nipples. And her pussy, delicious little pussy, I want to feel it wrapped around my cock. I want to make her scream my name as I fuck her deep and rough. At this point, I almost don’t care if she begs for it first or not. I’m sure I’ll make her beg for it once she gets a little taste. I take a deep breath and glance at the clock. I need to get going. And I need to stop thinking about this. My plan was to seduce her, and that’s still my plan. I’m close to getting it just right, and so I need to stay patient and in some measure of control. I have about three more weeks for this, and that’s plenty of time. Besides, I can always buy her again if I want more time. I call for a car then get up and head out. My secretary tells me where the meeting is supposed to be, this little Italian bistro a few blocks away, and then I head downstairs to get into the waiting car. We drive the short trip to the restaurant and I have to force myself not to think about Aria at all during the drive. I need to concentrate. This deal with Richard is getting dicey. He’s an intense man with an intense fortune, and he’s always playing to win. Everything with him is a

game. He doesn’t care if something is mutually beneficial or not, he just wants to win, whatever he believes winning actually means. That’s just the kind of man Richard is. Nothing else matters to him but the deal, and it’s getting fucking exhausting. This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is, but Richard can’t make it easy. We both stand to profit here, but he wants to make sure his bottom line is the best it can possibly be by pushing back against me. Maybe he thinks I’m weak and ripe for pillaging or some shit, but he’s in for a surprise. The driver drops me out front and I head inside. Richard is at a booth toward the center of the restaurant, and I head over to him. He smiles and stands as I approach. “Ethan,” he says. “Glad you came.” We shake hands and then sit back down. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say. “Did you see the latest contracts?” he asks, diving right into business. That’s not like him. He seems laser focused today for some reason. He’s normally much more interested in shooting the shit and drinking, but today he’s having only water and a simple sandwich for lunch.

I don’t let that get to me, though. We dive into the contracts and start negotiating clauses. He’s quibbling about the silliest, most worthless shit, and a half hour passes. I almost want to fucking yell at him to get over himself, but I know that’s not productive. The meeting wears on until finally Richard leans back in his seat and orders a whisky from the waitress. I can tell that he’s done discussing and so am I. Richard is an arrogant bastard, but I want this deal to go through. It’d be damn good for both of us. But I can’t keep doing this. “What are we doing here, Richard?” I ask him. “What do you mean?” “From the start of this, you don’t seem like you want this deal to happen. Do you really give a shit about lighting renovations?” He watches me for a second, a small smile on his face. “No,” he admits, although just ten minutes earlier he was trying to get a clause in the contract that states we can’t change lighting fixtures for two years to “preserve his brand,” which is utter shit. I sigh and lean back in my seat, at least happy to get some truth from him. “Okay then. Tell me what

you want.” The waitress comes back with his drink and he grins at me, taking a swig. He leans forward toward me, that grin still on his face. “I’ve been reading about you for years, Ethan,” he says. I raise an eyebrow. “So?” I ask. “Business reporters love to make shit up.” “Sure, sure. They really do. But to be completely honest with you, Ethan, it’s been pissing me off. A lot. For a long time.” “You’re angry that the media is covering me?” “No,” he says, laughing. “No, I’m angry that they’re covering you and not me. I used to be the young hotshot, you know. Everything they say about you, they used to say about me.” “They still write about you all the time,” I say softly, beginning to get a bad feeling. “Never good. Not anymore. They’re biased against me.” “So, what? You have a grudge against the media and you’re taking it out on me?” He shrugs. “More or less. I also don’t like you, Ethan. I think you’re an arrogant piece of shit with no talent and no experience. You come from

nothing because you are nothing.” I stare at him for a second then slide out of the booth. “We’re done here. You can keep your building. Good luck trying to pay for it.” “Wait,” he says. “I have something you want to hear.” “I think I’m done listening to your shit, Richard.” I turn to leave. “That was quite the performance she threw,” Richard says, and I pause. “Dresses all over the street? How much money did she throw out your window?” I slowly turn back toward him, wrestling to keep my face straight. “What are you talking about?” “Sit back down,” he says softly. I hesitate. I hate to do what he tells me, but I know this could be very bad for me. I don’t know how much he has or how he even knows about Aria’s tantrum. I sit down slowly, prepared to listen. If he has pictures, I’m fucked. I don’t know how I can explain that one away. It won’t ruin me, of course, but I can’t afford a scandal right now. Not when we’re in the middle of intense negotiations and a merger. They could still walk away, and all of

this work, plus millions of dollars, would be wasted. My reputation probably wouldn’t recover. I watch him, keeping a level head, trying to remain cool. I wasn’t about to panic or freak out, not now. I can’t show weakness to this man. He’ll pounce the moment I show even the slightest hesitation. “What do you think you know?” I ask him, not breaking eye contact. “I know that you have a woman living in your house,” he says. “I don’t know who this woman is, since we unfortunately didn’t get a picture of her, which is curious in itself. But she recently decided to throw a very public and very loud tantrum. Does that sound right?” “So you don’t know anything,” I say. He smiles. “I know what you’re thinking right now, Ethan. You’re thinking, maybe I don’t have pictures. Maybe you’re safe.” He leans toward me, his smile getting bigger. “You’re not safe. Not at all.” I watch him, restraining myself from striking out at him. “Proof,” I say. He holds up his phone. There’s a picture of my house with clothing lying in the street.

“See?” he asks. “How do you have this?” “I hired someone to watch you, of course,” he says. “Well, a few someones. I do this with every person I enter into negotiations with. Comes in handy.” “You’ve been following me,” I say flatly. “My people have, yes. And they got some good shots.” My heart is hammering in my chest but I do my best not to show him. “What do you want?” I ask. “Lighting. Statues. Carpeting. Any little fucking thing I want. Understand?” He wants my fucking balls in the palm of his hand, that’s what he wants. He doesn’t care about anything else but that. “We’ll talk,” I say and stand. “We won’t talk. You’ll do as I say or I’ll leak this. Plus the nice video.” “Set up another meeting with my secretary.” I turn and quickly walk away. If I sat there any longer, I would have given in to him. I know it. I would do it just to protect my company, but also to protect Aria. Her tantrum did cause some issues, and I can only imagine how this

is going to snowball. It’s not entirely her fault. She couldn’t have known what her actions would do. She’s a good person and just wanted a little attention. But now she’s going to have to deal with the consequences.

16

ARIA

I

stretch lazily, watching some daytime television show. It’s not even good, but I can’t help myself. The day is moving so slow after Ethan stopped in this morning and I feel antsy already. I can’t wait to see him again. I don’t know when that’ll be, but I hope it’s sooner rather than later. I can feel something beginning between us, and I can’t exactly say what it is. This life has been strange. Everything seems to have led me here, from living with my abusive piece of shit father to running away and becoming a junky. Now I’m trying to get my life together and I’m given to Ethan, a man that can easily save me. But I don’t know if I want to be saved. I want to

put myself back together, not be fixed by some man. I know he could do it, and could do it easily, but I don’t know if that’s what I want. Maybe it’s better if I don’t let myself get too close. Maybe it’s better if I stay here, quietly and obediently, and just do whatever he asks whenever he asks. I simply don’t get too close and when this is all over, we can go our separate ways. I know I’m fooling myself. That feeling is still inside of me, growing and getting deeper every time I’m around him. I know that soon it’ll consume me, and I’ll be unable to stop myself. I know it, deep down inside, but I can’t admit it to myself. Not yet, at least. My thoughts drift in and out of consciousness as I sit there and watch television. It’s around one in the afternoon, maybe a little after, but I’m not really sure. Lunch came and went already, so I know it’s past noon at least. As I’m sitting there, I suddenly hear the elevator doors ding open down the hall. That usually means that Jenkins is coming to drop something off, but I didn’t call him. I perk up, curious. There’s a knock at the door and then it opens. My heart nearly leaps from my chest.

It’s him. I know it’s him. Nobody else barges into my room like that. Ethan comes around the corner. “Hey,” I say, standing. His face is intense and I can’t read his expression. He looks angry. His normally pristine clothing looks rumpled, like he walked quickly to get here or something, and he’s breathing fast. His eyes pierce into mine, and for a second, I’m afraid. He walks right up to me without saying a word, takes my hips, and kisses me. I melt into the kiss, surprised as hell. He pulls me tight against him and I wrap my arms around his muscular neck. He kisses me hard, his tongue against mine and I lose myself in it, instantly knowing I needed this. It’s like I’m dreaming. All day long I’ve been sitting around, thinking about him, wondering what he’s doing and now here he is, barging into my room and kissing me. It’s exactly what I wanted. I don’t know why he’s here, since he’s normally working around now, but I can’t complain. He grabs the hem of my top and pulls it up over my head. He kisses my neck, his hands on my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the thin cotton panties

I’m wearing beneath my shorts are totally soaked through now. “You’ve been a bad fucking girl,” he says softly. “I have,” I agree. “You don’t know the half of it.” His right hand drifts down between my legs and I gasp as he finds my pussy. He’s being fast and rough, and it seems very unlike him. But I like it. God, I like it. I needed this from him. The teasing, the seduction, it was pushing me too far. I needed him to take me like this. His fingers press up inside of me and I moan as he kisses me again, stroking my pussy, sliding out then kneading my clit with his thumb. I groan as he takes my hair and tips my head back. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that, girl?” he asks. “You’re my pet but you’ve misbehaved.” “I want to be good,” I moan. “I’m sorry, Ethan.” “I know you’re sorry. But I’ll fix it.” I can barely think. I don’t know what he’s talking about. All I can focus on are his fingers sliding in and out of my aching pussy, pushing me to my limits. What does he mean, he’ll fix it? I don’t understand,

but I also don’t think I care that much. He steers me toward the bed, hand in my hand, other hand between my legs, lips against mine, and I’m barely thinking, I’m barely present for anything but the pleasure rocking its way down my spine. He suddenly pushes me backwards and I topple down onto the bed. He grabs my soft cotton shorts and pulls them from my skin, tossing them aside, before dropping to his knees. He shoves his head between my legs, spreading my knees wide, and tongues my useless panties. “Ethan,” I gasp. He takes my panties and pulls them down, letting them slip onto the ground, forgotten. He returns to my pussy, this time with his tongue against my clit, sucking and licking like he did before. But there’s an intensity and a passion there that he didn’t have before. I can barely take it as he slides two fingers deep inside of me. “Ethan,” I moan again. “You’re going to make me come.” “Is that so bad?” He smirks at me as he slides his fingers deep. I grab his hair. “Maybe that’s all you deserve. A nice fat orgasm.” “I don’t know what I deserve,” I moan.

“You deserve worse. Much worse. But today, your punishment is this.” I toss my head back as he goes back to sucking my clit, fingers sliding in and out, and I can barely stand it. As I feel the orgasm slowly building inside of me, my whole body tense and twitching, itching for him, begging for him, he slowly pulls his fingers from my pussy and licks them. I look down at him, surprised, and he stands, smirking at me. “Did you really think you were getting off so easy?” He laughs and unbuttons his shirt. “No, you don’t get to come so easily today, Aria. Today, I’m going to have my fun.” My heart is hammering as he finishes taking his shirt off. His body is muscular and toned, lean and perfect as he takes off his pants and steps out of his slacks. I watch him, pulse pounding in my cunt, as he lays out his clothing over the back of a chair before stepping out of his boxer briefs. I marvel at his thick, long cock as he stands in front of me, stroking himself. I lean forward to take him in my hand and mouth, but he pushes me back down, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder. “I told you,” he whispers. “Today, I’m taking you.

Today I’m having my fun.” “Oh shit, Ethan,” I moan as I feel his cock press against me. He slowly slides inside of me before thrusting once, pressing his whole cock deep between my legs. I toss my head back and moan, gripping the sheets. Exquisite pain rips through me as his thick cock fills my tight pussy. He moves my legs from his shoulders then grabs my hair and pulls me toward him, kissing my lips with a passion that I can barely understand. He slides me further onto the bed and follows me up there, spreading my legs wide, kneeling with his cock inside of me. I put my hands on his chest as he slowly begins to work himself in and out. I can’t believe I can even take him, and I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been aching for it for so long now, for what feels like forever, and this happened so suddenly. I can’t stop to think about it, though, because he feels too good, smells too good, tastes too good. Everything is too much and I’m drowning in pleasure. He rips into me, grabbing my hip with one hand and my hair with the other, his body hot against mine. I’m sweating but it doesn’t matter. All I care about is this moment as I work my hips against him. The pain gives way to pleasure, an ecstasy I’ve never imagined to ask for.

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling me over and sliding out of me. He lays onto his back, pulling me over on top of him. I straddle him and stare at his cock, biting my lip. “I don’t know how,” I say. “Sure you do. Move your fucking hips.” He slaps my ass, hard. “No, I mean, how this fits.” He grins at me. “Find out.” I take him in my hand then slowly slide down his length. I gasp and shudder as he fills me. He takes my hips and pulls me down, sliding me the rest of the way. I’m dripping wet and he glides into me so easily. I start to move my hips, riding him, hands on his chest, breasts pressed together. “That’s right,” he grunts. “Ride that fucking cock, Aria. Show me how badly you want it.” “I want it,” I pant, working hard. “I need it. God, Ethan, I need it.” “I know you do, pet,” he says softly. “I want to feel you come on this cock. I want to watch your face while you do it. And then I’m going to fucking fill you.” He grabs my hair and pulls me down, kissing me hard.

I keep riding, not letting up, working his cock. I should be thinking about pleasing him, about making this a good experience for him, but I can’t. I should be thinking about being his escort and not his pet, but I am his pet and I know it. All I can think about is working my hips, getting pleasure, getting more. He grabs my ass then slaps it hard, pulling me down and thrusting into me. He rocks hard into me, the sweet slap of his cock slamming into my pussy filling the room. He grunts and keeps at it, fucking me rough, like a fucking animal. “God damn,” he grunts, and pushes me off him. He gets onto his knees, grabs my hips, and turns me around. I spread my legs wide for him, ass in the air, as he thrusts deep into my pussy. “That’s right,” he grunts. “This is what I wanted. This round ass sliding down my fucking cock. You know how perfect you are?” He fucks me and I rock my hips back against him, slamming back into his thrusts. Sweat drips down my skin as he slaps his hand into my ass cheek, sending tingles of pain and pleasure rolling down my spine. “Do it again,” I moan, surprising myself.

I can hear the grin in his voice. “Beg for it.” “Please,” I say, tossing my hair aside and looking at him over my shoulder. “Slap my ass harder.” He lets out a groan and does it, slapping my ass hard. I toss my head back in pure pleasure as he slams into me deeper. I work back harder, fingers curled into the sheets and pressing into the mattress. “Again,” I say. “Please. Again.” He slaps my ass again, palm flat into my skin. He does it again, and again. And I know there’s a bright red handprint on my cheek. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, slamming into me mercilessly, and I can feel the orgasm building. He slaps my other cheek, nice and hard, before reaching around my hip to find my clit. I writhe back against him, working along his thick cock, as he works my clit while he fucks me. “That’s it,” I moan. “Ethan. I’m so close. Please, let me come.” “You want to come on this cock?” he asks. “You want to come for me, you dirty fucking girl? You’re my pet, Aria. You’re my fucking pet with your tight little pussy and your perfect fucking hips. Beg for my permission.”

“Please. Oh god, please. I need it. I need it so badly. Please let me come.” I can feel it building. He’s not slowing down, just keeps fucking me, working my clit. I know I’m going to come and there’s nothing stopping it. “Oh fuck,” I moan nice and deep. “Come for me,” he grunts, fucking me, working me. I come hard, the orgasm exploding through my mind. My body tenses and releases, pleasure rocking through my skin. I don’t know how I can even stand it, there’s just so much pleasure rolling along my spine, and I think I black out for a second. Not long after, or maybe it’s forever, he’s still fucking me. He releases my clit and grabs my hips, slamming deep into me. He’s relentless, and it feels so fucking good. “God damn, girl,” he groans. “I’m going to fill this cunt up. Is that what you want?” “Yes,” I groan, working my hips, getting into it. “Come inside me. Go ahead. I want it. I want to feel it.” “Fuck,” he grunts, and I can feel him. He comes

deep inside my pussy, and I keep moving, working my hips, sliding along his length. I want him to come hard, and his hands dig into my flesh. Finally, we collapse into the bed together. He wraps his arms around my body and pulls me tight against him, breathing into my hair. “Fuck, girl,” he says softly. “You are my pet.” “I am,” I say, nuzzling up against his chest. We’re naked and sweating and this is where I want to be, the perfect place to be. He holds me tight, and our breathing synchronizes. I lose all sense of time with him there, and it’s perfect. We’re one together, floating in the post-sex haze of orgasm, and I can’t believe how content I feel. I’ve never felt this way before, not with anybody. I don’t know how Ethan makes me feel this way, but he does, and it’s incredible. It’s also a little terrifying, but I’m not thinking about it too much. I don’t want to think about what happens after this month, or really about what happens five minutes from now. I just want to enjoy this moment, perfect and right and good. This is all I need or want.

17

ETHAN

I

breathe in her smell and feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m so tired, so exhausted, and I feel so content and comfortable lying in bed with her, still covered in sweat. I didn’t plan this. Frankly, I didn’t know what I was going to do when I saw her. Part of me wanted to throw her out and never see her again, but I knew I couldn’t do that. Not really, not even in my deepest anger. This issue with Richard isn’t going to go away, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t take it out on Aria. I never told her that we had to be subtle and quiet. I told her that I was going to spoil her and that she could do anything she wanted, more or less, and then I

neglected her. I deserve what I’m getting, but I won’t make that same mistake twice. I won’t take this out on her, because she doesn’t deserve it. I run my fingers down her back and she shivers. “That feels good,” she says softly. “Yeah?” I softly rub her back. “What else feels good?” “Everything,” she says, laughing, and looks up at me. “Why are you here?” “Decided to take off work today.” “Oh,” she says. “I’m glad you did.” “Me too.” I laugh lightly. “I didn’t plan that, you know.” “That’s okay,” she says. “I didn’t mind.” “I’m sure you didn’t. But I’m usually more...” “In control?” she finishes. “Exactly. But with you, it’s different.” “Why?” She sits up and looks at me, hair spilling down around us. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. She smiles and looks away. “That makes me happy,

either way.” “I want to get to know you.” “What do you want to know?” she asks. “Your childhood.” “Not much to say.” She shrugs a little bit. “I grew up with my dad. Mom died when I was really young.” “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.” “Maybe. I don’t know. I never knew her. But I did know a string of nannies.” I laugh softly. “You were rich?” “My father is. When I ran away from home, I left all that.” “Why did you leave?” She frowns and lies back down in my arms. I wrap them around her and pull her tight against me. “You’d understand if you knew my father. He’s a hard man to be around.” “I know something about hard men.” She glances up at me. “Was that a penis joke?” “Not at all,” I say, laughing. “I have more tact and

better timing than that.” “Sure you do.” She looks skeptical and we laugh together. She lays her head back down on my chest. “Dad meant well I think, but he pushed really hard. He’s a little famous in the city, actually. I’d rather not say who he is, but that fame was part of it.” “Part of what?” I ask softly. “The pressure. To be perfect. He wanted me to take over his business one day, but I had no interest in it. And then when I ran away and got into drugs, that basically killed him. He disowned me, not exactly, but more or less. I don’t see or speak with him anymore. And I don’t want to.” I grunt, understanding. I can see how having a father like that would be very, very difficult. I can also see why maybe she turned to drugs. It was a rebellious thing at first, but also a way to feel good. When you’re rich, it’s hard to really feel things, because everything is taken care of for you. Maybe she was trying to find a little bit of that, but went way too far. “Do you ever want to see him again?” I ask. “Not at all. He was... abusive,” she says. “Abusive?”

She looks at me again. “I don’t want to be that cliché hooker with daddy issues, okay? It’s just, he didn’t hit me, but he tortured me. He was merciless and cutting, and I had to get out of there. So no, I don’t want to see him ever again.” I kiss her softly on the forehead. “Thanks for telling me that,” I say. “It’s weird. I haven’t talked about him in a while.” I smile and kiss her again. “I’m happy you feel comfortable talking about it with me.” “You’re supposed to be a client...” She trails off, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” “I’m not supposed to tell you this stuff. The Syndicate, they gave us some, I don’t know, training. I’m supposed to be mysterious and alluring for you.” She laughs lightly. “How am I doing?” “Perfect,” I say. “You’re perfect.” “My last name is Taylor,” she says. “I don’t know why I wanted you to know that. I just did, I guess.” I grin ear to ear, and have no clue why that makes me so happy. I kiss her again, not sure what else to do, and hold her tight.

I want to know her, and having her open up to me makes me happier than I would have guessed. It’s strange, sharing this sort of intimacy with someone that I supposedly own, but I don’t feel like I own her. Not right now, at least. Her guard is down and I believe everything she’s saying. I believe that she feels something, maybe something like what I feel, although I’m not exactly sure what that is yet. I believe she’s a good person and wants to do right. And I know I’ve seduced her. All of that, it was real. She wanted it as much as I did, if not more. She wanted me to fuck her and to make her come and she would have done it, money or no money. I should feel good that I won my game, but I don’t. I just feel like there’s another game coming, and this one might be even better.

18

ARIA

”P

lay it again.”

In my dream, he stands over me like a phantom. His eyes are a furious red like I always imagined them to be, though I know they’re really just brown. His brows knit as I raise the violin to my chin again and prepare to play it all over. In my dream, I know that I’ve been standing there and playing for hours. My fingers are bloody and torn to shreds, but daddy doesn’t care. I’m nine years old and I should be a prodigy by now, but I’m not. According to daddy, if I’m not the best at what I do, I’m not worth anything. And so I play it again. I go through the notes, playing as best as I possibly can considering blood

runs down the strings, but that doesn’t matter to him. He simply sits there, smoking a cigar and watching me. I don’t look at his face, because I know what I’ll see if I do. When I finish, he stands and walks over to me. He slaps the violin from my hands and growls. “Pathetic,” he says. “What the fuck am I paying these teachers for if you can’t play right?” I cower away from him, waiting for him to hit me, but the blow never comes. It never does. He hit me once, out of anger, but not since then. Still, he threatens it all the time, and I believe he’ll do it if I give him a real reason to. “I’m sorry, daddy,” I whimper. “Sorry isn’t going to make you better, girl,” he says. “How the fuck are you going to take over everything I’m building if you can’t even master one instrument? It’s not even a fucking hard one, for fuck’s sake.” He stalks away and I collapse onto the floor, sobbing. He stands by the bar with a glass in his hand. He always has a glass in his hand. He’s a drunk, a mean stupid drunk, and I hate him. In the dream, which is also a memory, I know that he’s a piece of shit but I can’t do anything about it.

I’m just a little girl and I still love him. I barely see him anymore, and when I do, it’s always painful, but he’s still a towering figure in my life. I want to live up to him. I believe everything he tells me. I believe every bit of pressure he puts on me. I feel it weighing on me every night, and every night I cry myself to sleep because I’m such a disappointment. “Maybe I’ll leave you too,” he sneers at me. “Just like your mother left you. She knew you were pathetic garbage. Do you want me to leave you?” “No!” I cry out, terrified. “Good,” he says. “Play it again.” I stand up and retrieve the violin. One of the strings is broken but I know I can’t say anything about it. I retrieve my bow and stand before him, ready to play. He nods and I raise my instrument. He loves it. I can see through him in my dream, into his mind, and I know he loves this. He loves pushing me, prodding me, seeing how far he can go. Threatening to leave is his favorite little game, especially when he gets to tell me how my mother thought I wasn’t worth being around. It’s impossible to imagine what that does to a little girl, the sort of incredible heartbreaking sadness it instills inside of her. It’s the sort of madness that

she’ll turn to drugs to numb when she turns into a woman. But for now, all I know how to do is play. I strike the first note as my father advances on me, grinning his evil grin, stinking of gin and looking to humiliate me some more. I wake up sweating and he’s there in my bed. I swat at him, trying to get away, terrified of him. He’s coming and he’s going to keep making me play. “Aria!” His hands gently catch my wrists and I’m breathing so fast, but that’s not his voice, and I’m not a little girl. I’m an adult woman. I’m in Ethan’s home, in his bed, and I’m safe. I’m far away from my father. “It’s okay,” he says. “Shh, it’s okay.” Ethan takes me in his arms and pulls me against him. “Ethan,” I say. “I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay. It’s very okay.” He holds me and rocks me until my trembling slowly subsides. “I heard you screaming,” he says once I’m calmer. “I came in to check on you.” “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I’m fine though.”

I pull back from him and wipe the hair from my face, trying to smile. He doesn’t need this sort of thing in his life, not with the kind of stress he’s under. He doesn’t need some pathetic girl with horrible scars screaming in the middle of the night and waking him up. The dream lingers and part of me thinks I’m still that pathetic little girl destined to fail. But I know that I’m not. I ran away and tried to destroy my demons with heroin, but that only made the demons so much worse. In the end, I’m destroying my demons through hard work, but they’re not all gone. Not yet at least. “Do you have nightmares often?” he asks I shake my head. “Not for years. I... I used to.” I laugh softly. “I’m sorry. I’m really embarrassed.” “It’s okay,” he says. “Really. For a second there, I thought you were being murdered.” “I’m safe and sound,” I say more for myself. He nods and studies me for a second, putting his hand on my face. It’s warm and feels good. I lean into it, smiling. “Can I ask you what the dream was about?” I look at him, a little surprised. He quickly goes on. “That’s helped me, in the past. Talking about the

horrible dreams.” “You have nightmares?” “I used to. Back when my company started growing faster than I was ready for. I was under a lot of pressure back then.” He laughs a little bit. “I used to dream about drowning every night. My peers and employees would be standing outside of a giant fish tank, laughing as I drowned. It was pretty bad.” “Sounds awful,” I say. “If you want to tell me about it, I’ll listen. I understand if you don’t.” I pause, thinking. I’ve never told anyone about the dreams before. I’ve woken others up with my screaming, but I always just make some excuse and pretend like it’s no big deal. I thought I was past this, but apparently not. “I shouldn’t have asked,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” “No,” I say. “I want to tell you.” “Are you sure?” I nod and take a deep breath. “I played violin when I was a little girl. My father, sometimes he’d get drunk and watch me practice. Once he made me

practice for hours, the same song over and over until my fingers bled. He would tell me that I’m a disappointment and that’s why my mother died. I dream about that afternoon sometimes, and in my dream I know that my father wants to humiliate me and destroy me, but I can’t help it. I’m a little girl again.” He shakes his head, frowning. “Is that true?” I nod. “It’s true. It happened. It’s... part of why I ran away. Why I turned to drugs.” “I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “That’s horrible.” “I think he meant well at first. But as the years passed, he became bitter, and started taking it out on me. I was just a little girl so I didn’t understand. My father was a towering figure in my life. He was everything to me. When he said I was a failure, I believed him.” I look away from Ethan, trying not to cry. “I stopped playing violin after that afternoon. I refused. He never hit me, but he yelled a lot. The yelling was worse.” “I can relate to that.” I look at him, surprised. He pulls away and lies down next to me, hands behind his head, looking up at the top of the canopy. “My father thought computers were for sissies and

pussies,” he says. “His biggest dream in life was for me to join him working at the police department.” He glances at me and grins. “My father is a cop, by the way.” “I had no clue.” “I don’t talk about it. My dad was a grade-A asshole and still is. We don’t really talk much. My mother is okay, but she didn’t really do much to stop my father from being a dick. He was constantly talking down to me, constantly telling me that I was a pussy and a piece of shit for sitting in front of my computer all the time.” He sighs, trailing off. “That’s hard. When your parents don’t believe in you.” “There was other stuff, too,” he says softly. “He tried to toughen me up.” “How?” I ask, lying next to him. I put my hand on his chest. “Beat the shit out of me,” he says. “He’d be hitting me, saying it’s for my own good, although I’m pretty sure he just liked doing it. But all that abuse just made me more driven to get the fuck out of there.” “I can understand that,” I say.

“I got lucky. My company worked and shit took off for me. But if I stayed in that house much longer, my father would have killed me, or I would have killed him. There was no happy ending for me there.” “But you got out.” He nods and looks at me. “You did too.” “Yeah, I guess so.” He takes my hand and squeezes. “Hey. We both got out.” “You’re right.” I curl up next to him, my head on his chest. “We did.” I close my eyes as we lapse into silence. I don’t want to push him for more of his story, but I can imagine it. I lived some of it, I bet. It’s amazing that he ended up here and I ended up here too, but we took such different paths. Similar beginnings, but such different choices and events. I can feel sleep tugging me down, and I want to resist it since he’s still here, but I can’t. All I hear is his breath and his heartbeat thumping slowly in my ear. It’s comforting, and when I finally go back under, I don’t dream anymore. It’s just peaceful and calm. There’s nothing else.

19

ETHAN

I

glance at my agenda and sigh. The day is nearly over and yet I feel like I haven’t gotten a damn thing done. I’ve been feeling like this ever since Aria came into my life, but I know it’s not her fault. I’m just distracted by her. Last night, I fell asleep in her bed. I told myself I wasn’t going to do that, but it happened. When I heard her screaming, I thought something horrible was happening. Instead, I ended up opening up about my life. I never talk about my father, not with anyone. It’s not that I’m ashamed, or not exactly, but I just can’t stand people feeling any sort of pity for me. I survived it and got the fuck out of there, and that’s

all I care about. I still speak with my mother maybe once a month. I paid off their house, despite my father asking me not to, and bought them a new car. But that’s the extent of it. I’d give them more, take care of them for life only because they’re my parents, but my father made it clear that he doesn’t want my help. Too proud or too stupid, I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m moving on past all of this. But I understand what Aria is going through. I used to dream of my father and the beatings he’d give me, all for my own good, all because he wanted me to toughen up. Of course, he was beating on a fourteen-year-old boy, but that didn’t matter to him. I was a sissy because I was good with computers and I was smart, and no son of his was going to be a sissy. As soon as I turned sixteen and hit a growth spurt, the beatings stopped. Mostly because I got big enough to fight back and defend myself. He didn’t want to risk getting hurt. But the emotional abuse never stopped, not until the day I left that house and never looked back. I’m not a weak man. I don’t let that shit define me or hold me back. I’m not some fucking victim. But I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. I was just a kid

and I didn’t know any better. I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. And I’m not, not exactly at least. I mostly just don’t want people defining me by my past. Everything I’ve accomplished since then is so much more important to me, and I don’t want to become the abused kid that made it big. Maybe it was dangerous to tell Aria that story. She could easily turn around and sell it to some tabloid. The Syndicate would probably have something to say about that, but that wouldn’t really stop her, not if she was really determined. She could make a nice chunk of money and disappear. But I know she wouldn’t do that. What she told me last night was real, very real. She couldn’t fake the screaming or the emotion that I saw plainly on her face. She understands what I went through, just like I understand what she went through, and I know she’d never betray my trust. Just like I’d never betray hers. The unspoken bond between us sends strange shivers down my spine. I never imagined feeling... whatever this is. It’s an attachment, that’s for sure, a very powerful bond that I don’t entirely understand yet. There’s so much between us already, and we have so much in common, that I can barely believe it.

My secretary buzzes my phone suddenly, snapping me out of my haze. I hit a button. “Yes?” I ask, getting myself back into the moment. “Richard Taylor on line two,” she says. I pause. “Thanks,” I say, before picking up the phone and hitting a button. “Richard,” I say. “Hello.” “How are you doing, Ethan?” I pause, wondering how to proceed. Do I pretend like the blackmail never happened? “I’m fine,” I say. “Have you thought about our last conversation?” There it is. I was waiting for that. I wonder how direct he’ll be over the phone. “I have,” I say. “And?” “And it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice in this situation, does it?” “No,” he says, and I can hear the joy in his voice. “That’s the point though, of course.” “Send over your next round of contracts.”

“I will. I’ll be reasonable, Ethan. I’ll go easy on you.” “For both our sakes, Richard. Remember, you need this deal as much as I do.” “That’s true,” he says, laughing. “That’s very true. Well, I’m glad you came to your senses. We’re both going to be rich and happy men soon.” “I suspect you’ll be richer and happier,” I say. “Of course. That’s the game, isn’t it?” He laughs and then hangs up the phone. I stare at my receiver before hanging it back up. I feel fucking sick to my stomach all of a sudden, and although I have more work to do, I know I’m done for the day. It’s around five anyway, and there’s no shame in leaving at a normal time for once. I’ll go home, check on Aria, eat something, and then work from my home office for a few more hours. With that plan in mind, I stand up and head out, trying to shake the sinking feeling I have in my stomach. Richard Taylor has me over a fucking barrel, and he’s going to take advantage of this. People are going to wonder why I took this fucking deal when inevitably I do, and it’s going to look very bad. This is a losing situation for me, and I have to find some way out of it.

The car gets me home quickly and I’m optimistic as I climb out and head up the stoop. I’ve been ignoring this Richard thing, or at least I’ve been trying to. I’ve been using Aria to help distract me from the fucked up shit that’s happening all around me, and she’s been doing a damn good job. But as soon as I open the door, I know something’s up. The house is normally quiet, and usually Jenkins is there immediately to greet me. Instead, I hear hushed voices coming from the kitchen, and there’s nobody around. I don’t mind if they’re busy. That’s fine. Hell, I don’t even care if they’re just standing around and chatting and didn’t know I was coming in. But that just never happens. Jenkins is always on top of things, probably because the driver normally calls ahead. This time though, as I walk down the hall and into the great room, I know something is amiss. Jenkins is standing in the kitchen with a tall, thin, striking woman, maybe in her late forties. She has black hair pulled back in a tight bun and her red lipstick makes her pale skin that much more intense. She wears a loose black dress and her eyes flit to mine as soon as I’m in the room. Jenkins, for his part, looks utterly embarrassed. “Sir,” he says quickly, rushing toward me. “I’m so sorry. I was distracted by this, this woman.”

“It’s okay, Jenkins,” I say. “But who is she?” “Ethan Locks,” the woman says, speaking over Jenkins and walking toward me with her hand extended. “My name is Lucille and I’m with The Syndicate. We need to talk.” I take her hand and shake, but the world feels like it dips and disappears around me. I knew The Syndicate would come and check on Aria, but they assured me it would be discreet. They said they wouldn’t even be seen or noticed by me or anyone in my staff. They assured me that they’re professionals, and that they do this all the time. If this woman is from The Syndicate and she’s here, in my home, speaking with my butler, then something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. She shouldn’t be here. I feel like the world is spinning around me as fear for Aria spikes through my body.

20

ARIA

W

hen I wake up, he’s gone. That doesn’t surprise me. But what surprises me is that he slept in my bed all night, and only left during the early hours of the morning. I woke up when he left, but only briefly. He slipped out of the bed and for a second, I thought it was a dream. But hours later, when I’m fully awake, I know that it wasn’t a dream. He really slept in the bed with me, our bodies intertwined and cuddling. That’s the most intimate thing we’ve done together, and I can hardly describe and explain how happy it makes me feel to know that he was willing to stay with me. He opened up to me. I stretch, smiling to myself. He really opened up. That story about his father is

horrible, and reminds me so much of myself. I didn’t know that we had this much in common, but clearly we grew up in similar circumstances. He knows pain and suffering in the same way that I do, which almost scares me. But it shouldn’t scare me, I know that. I should be elated, and I am. This is what I want, what I’ve always wanted from a man. This level of intimacy was never something I ever pictured could happen for me. I assumed I was always doomed to push men away and to live my life alone. Maybe that doesn’t have to be the case. Maybe there’s something more happening here. He finally fucked me, finally held me, finally made me his. Everything should be perfect. So why do I still feel like there’s something missing? He still owns me. At the end of the day, that’s the truth. He owns me and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. No matter what happens between us, it’s only happening because he bought me. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Him opening up was real. And the way I’m feeling is real. But I don’t know what any of that means, how long any of it will last, because of our situation. It’s inherently messed up.

I wish I could just tell him that I want him to get his money back. Or that I will donate all my money to a charity or something, if it just means that we can have something beyond this exchange of value. I want him for real, not as some man that bought me and keeps me as his pet. I want something real. I want whatever happened last night to keep happening. I’m afraid that it was just a moment of weakness for him, and as soon as we wake up, the spell will be over. It’s impossible to say one way or the other. The day drags on. Jenkins brings me lunch and I don’t hear from Ethan at all. I keep thinking about him, of course, but I just keep doing what I always do. I’m confused and trying to figure all of this out, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m still stuck in this room, waiting for him to come to me. I know he will, or at least I feel that he will deep down inside of me. He’ll come and we’ll talk. And we’ll make this real. I’ll give up the money. Forget about the money. Sure, it’s a life-changing amount, but I’d give it all up for the chance at something real and lasting and good. It’s a crazy thought, giving up millions, but I can’t

help but seriously consider it. Maybe if I told him that, he’d break the contract and we could try this seriously. I don’t know if he’d even want that, though. The whole point of buying me is that it’s temporary and there aren’t any feelings involved. Feelings are involved now, though. I can’t say what they are or what they mean, but they’re there and I can’t stop them. The day wears on and soon it’s around five. Normally, Jenkins is very prompt with my dinner, but today something is different. He brings it at five on the dot, which is way too early for me, but I haven’t really complained. Today though, it’s five thirty and there’s still nothing. I shrug and figure maybe he’s finally figuring out that five is too early for a healthy young lady like myself. Around five forty-five, Jenkins appears knocking at the door. He hustles the dinner cart inside, looking stressed and worried. I stand up and head toward him. “Evening,” he says. “Your dinner is served.” “Wait,” I say as he turns to leave. “Is everything okay?” He cocks his head at me. “I think you know all

about that already,” he says with such vile scorn that it really surprises me. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” “Your little Syndicate is downstairs talking with Mr. Locks right now. And you pretend like you don’t know. I know you text them every day.” He makes a face like he smells shit. But my head is spinning too much to pay attention to that. “Wait, The Syndicate is talking with him?” I ask. “Why would that happen?” He narrows his eyes. “You don’t know?” “I have no clue.” I step toward him. “You have to let me down there. I have to see Ethan.” He considers for a moment then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Absolutely not. You’ve been enough trouble already.” “Jenkins, please,” I plead. “I can’t stay up here. I didn’t know they were coming and that can’t be good. Let me down there.” “No,” he says, and turns to leave again. I leap forward and take his hand. He rears back, shocked, his face a mask of disgust and outrage. “Please,” I say again. “You have to let me go

down.” “No, and kindly never touch me again.” He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I stare at the shut door, shocked and terrified. The Syndicate said they’d never make contact with Ethan unless they absolutely had to. That was only meant to be a last and worst-case scenario. They’re supposed to discreetly check up on me and act invisible. But if they’re here, something is wrong, something is very wrong. I can’t just stay in this room. I have to go down there. I take a deep breath and then open the door, heading out into the hall. I march toward the stairs and head down, not slowing, and not taking no for an answer. I’ll have a say in this, whatever it is. I can’t let this real thing slip through my fingers, not now, not when it’s so close.

21

ETHAN

L

ucille from The Syndicate sits across from me on the sofa, her back very straight. She sips from the cup of tea that Jenkins brought us on a tray. Jenkins disappeared soon after I came back. I had to remind him to take dinner up to Aria, mostly just to get him out of the room. I don’t want him listening in on this conversation. “I’m sorry to come here like this, Mr. Locks,” she says. “Please, call me Ethan.” I frown at her. “I assume there’s a problem.” She nods slowly. “There is a problem, Ethan. I’m very sorry about all this.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for yet.” She looks a little uncomfortable, but she’s hiding it well. Clearly she’s used to dealing with this sort of thing, but whatever she has to say she doesn’t like. “It’s an, ah, unusual situation,” she says. “We don’t typically sell the girls for more than a couple weeks. One month is a long time.” I shrug. “You agreed at the time.” “You offered a lot of money.” “And you took my money.” I lean toward her. “Are you regretting it?” “Yes, we are,” she says. “Truth is, we shouldn’t have sold you Aria for a month. You’re a new client. There’s normally some kind of short-term trial period.” I cross my arms and watch her for a moment, trying to read her. She looks back impassively, and I get the sense that she’s not telling me the full truth. They didn’t have any issue selling me Aria at the time when I offered them a lot of money. And there haven’t been any problems up to this point. “Have I mistreated her?” I ask. “Has she complained?” “No,” Lucille says, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Then you’ll excuse me if I’m trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here.” She looks a little surprised at my forceful tone, which was the point. I want to throw her off balance, make her actually tell me what’s going on here. “We want her back, Ethan,” she says. “We’re willing to refund most of your money as compensation.” “Fuck the money,” I say. She frowns but continues. “Aria will be treated well, of course. She’ll get her payment. Maybe not as much as she would have, but still a generous amount. And we’re willing to offer you another girl to finish out your month-long contract at a very agreeable discount.” I narrow my eyes at her. “So you’re willing to give me another girl, but I can’t have Aria?” “That’s right,” she says. “Aria is new as well. She wasn’t prepared for this level of contract.” “Aria is fine,” I say. “There’s no reason for you to take her back. We’ll finish the contract as we agreed.” “I’m sorry, Ethan. But I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Listen, Lucille. I don’t know why you’re here. You’re giving me these vague excuses, and none of it adds up. You’re clearly lying, or at least you’re keeping something from me. So until you tell me why I should give her up, we’re done here.” I move to stand and she sighs, holding up one hand, her eyes closed. I can tell she’s pained. She’s probably not supposed to tell me the real reason why The Syndicate wants Aria back. It’s probably something embarrassing. The fact that Lucille is here at all is a breach of their decorum. They’re normally incredibly discreet and professional and apparently pride themselves on their efficiency. But sending Lucille here to gather up Aria and to break their contract seems like it’s very out of their character. “Please, I’ll explain.” She looks at me with a frown on her face. “Please, sit.” I slowly sit back down and lean toward her, elbows on my knees. “Go ahead,” I say. “It’s her father,” Lucille admits with a sigh. “He found her. We’re not really sure how, but he’s a rich and powerful man in this city. He’s coming after us and we find it’s best if we simply return the girl to her home and move on.”

“Best for whom?” I ask, anger welling up inside of me. “Best for everyone.” “Not for her. Not for me.” “Please, see reason here. The Syndicate can’t risk exposure. It would be... catastrophic. For everyone involved.” Veiled threats and ass covering, that’s all she’s here to do. The bastards want to steal Aria away from me and to return her to her bastard father, the very man that she ran away from in the first place. I can’t imagine that her father actually wants her back, whoever he is. There’s something else here, a piece of this puzzle that I can’t see. I don’t know what’s being held back, but I can sense it, just there, just out of my grasp. “What’s his name?” I ask Lucille. She pauses. “Who?” “Her father. Who is he?” “I can’t tell you.” I feel a stab run down my veins. It’s a flash of insight that I only understand at a gut level. The

idea isn’t even conscious yet, but I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins. Cold terror runs through me. He’s a powerful man... the kind of man that would come after her if it suits him, not because he wants to... and her last name. I think back to that conversation that night. My face drains of color. Lucille looks concerned. “Ethan? Mr. Locks? Are you okay?” I grab my cup of tea and drink it down. It’s not strong enough, though. I stand and quickly walk into the kitchen where I pour myself a double whisky and slam it back. Lucille follows me, concern clear on her face. “It’s not that bad,” she says. “The Syndicate doesn’t blame you. And her father says he’ll back down if she’s returned.” “What’s his name?” I ask her again. Taylor. Her last name is Taylor. “I can’t say it. Please, don’t ask me again.” She was born rich. Her father was an asshole. “Say it,” I whisper. “Say his name.” I feel like I’m breaking into a thousand pieces, some angry, some confused, some willing to destroy everything to get

what I want. “His name is Taylor,” she says. “Richard Taylor.” I feel it like a knife to my gut. I can’t process this. I can barely think. A new voice cuts into my mind “Ethan?” I look up slowly. Aria is standing in the living room a few feet from Lucille. “What’s going on?” Aria asks. Jenkins comes in from the back room suddenly, breathless. “I’m sorry, sir. I told her to stay in her room.” He walks quickly toward her. “Stop,” I say to Jenkins. “Please leave.” He pauses, looks at me, and then nods. He disappears back into the other room. Lucille turns toward Aria. “Honey. I’m with The Syndicate. I was sent here to take you home.” “Why?” she asks. “Did I do something wrong?” “No,” she says gently. “You did nothing wrong. Something came up though. And we need to bring you back.”

“But I don’t want to go,” she says. “I want to finish my contract.” She looks at me, pleading, and I don’t understand. “You’ll still have to come with me,” Lucille says. “NO.” The two women look at me, clearly surprised. I practically shouted it and I look down at the glass in my hand. My knuckles are white. “Aria,” I say, getting some control. “Please go back upstairs.” “But—“ She starts, but I cut her off. “Go,” I say. “Now.” She hesitates then turns and quickly walks away. She disappears up the staircase and out of sight. Lucille looks back to me. “Mr. Locks, we need her. I can’t leave until she’s ready to go.” “Get out,” I say quietly to her. “Excuse me?” “Get out of my house.” I feel like I’m regaining some control now, though my edges are all frayed. “I can’t do that. I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand,” I growl at her. I walk from behind the counter and move toward her. She backs up, fear on her face at whatever she sees in my expression. “You want to give her back to that fucking monster. And the worst part is, he doesn’t give a fuck about her. It’s just one more slap in my face.” She tries to protest, but I hold up a hand. She continues to back down the hallway and toward the door. “No, don’t argue with me. Richard Taylor is a piece of shit, and he won’t take this away from me. You can go back and tell your Syndicate to go fuck themselves. Aria is mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She stops in front of the door and stares at me, regaining some composure. “You’re making a mistake,” she says. “Get out,” I repeat. “You can have her back when our contract is finished.” “Very well.” Lucille turns, opens the door, and then leaves. I walk back into the kitchen, feeling numb. I pour myself another drink and sip it, standing in front of the sink.

The world feels like it’s filtering in through a very small keyhole. Dimly I’m aware of things, but they flit and shake through my consciousness, though nothing sticks. What is real? How can I ever see the truth now? So much is tangled up in this. Could this have been Richard’s plan from the start? Who is Aria Taylor? I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie as I feel myself perched on the edge of something. The only things keeping me from tipping over is anger. Anger threatens to rip everything else apart. I won’t let Richard win, that fucking bastard. He won’t get the best of me. I won’t let a man like that win. I don’t know who she is, but Aria doesn’t deserve it. I clench my glass and knock the drink back, mind buzzing.

22

ARIA

H

e doesn’t come that night or the next day. I’m not really surprised, but I don’t understand what happened back there. When I walked into the room, he looked at me like I was a total stranger. Like I was a ghost, bursting out of a closet. He was spooked at first. And then he was angry. I don’t understand why The Syndicate wanted to take me back. That woman didn’t explain, only said that something came up, whatever that means. But clearly Ethan wasn’t happy about it, whatever it was. He refused to let them take me. That makes me happy, a strange sort of happiness. He defied The Syndicate, a very powerful group of people, just to keep me. That has to mean something real is

happening between us. But the way he looked at me... it sends shivers down my spine. I don’t understand it. What did that woman say to him that made him look at me with suspicion? When Jenkins brings my breakfast, he doesn’t say a word to me. I try and ask him questions, but he simply acts like I don’t exist. And when he leaves, I hear a click at the door, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that he locked me in. I sit out on the balcony, eating breakfast and trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I can escape any time I want, since it wouldn’t be too hard to climb down the balcony and get to the sidewalk. But I don’t want to leave. I want to know why he looked so disgusted with me. Maybe I can explain. Obviously it has to do with why that Syndicate woman was coming to take me back, but beyond that, I can only guess. And so I spend the day in anxious worry. I guess that I’m being held captive, since the door is locked, but I don’t feel trapped. I know I can get away any time I want. I just don’t understand why Ethan would want to lock me in here when he knows that I won’t leave if he doesn’t want me to.

The day drags past. Jenkins brings lunch as usual and again doesn’t say a word to me. He locks the door on his way out, leaving me there to stew in my uncertainty. I almost want to cause another scene. Ethan shouldn’t leave me here alone without talking to me, especially after what happened last night. He has to know that I’m worried as hell and afraid that something horrible just happened. Instead, I get nothing. The hours wear past until finally, it’s dinnertime, but nothing comes. Five in the afternoon turns to six in the evening, and finally it’s half past seven before I hear the lock at the door finally click open. I stand, dimly planning on yelling at Jenkins, but he’s not the one that walks into my room. It’s Ethan. He pushes a meal cart and stops, wearing his usual suit. He looks at me for a second with a strange look on his face. “Ethan,” I say, stepping toward him. “Let’s eat inside tonight,” he says, and starts to set the table. I frown, wanting to throw myself at him, but I can sense his discomfort. Instead, I help him put the food out. When we’re finished setting up, we both

sit down. He pours himself a drink and then hands me a glass of wine. “About last night,” I say, but he stops me with a shake of his head. “Let’s eat.” I frown and bite my lip then nod. I’m frustrated, but I’ll play along. I don’t want to spook him or anger him any more. I eat, and the food is good, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I can’t keep hanging on the edge of my seat like this. Ethan doesn’t seem particularly interested in broaching the subject. I watch him, barely picking at my food. He looks exhausted, like he didn’t sleep last night, and he eats like he hasn’t touched food in days. He doesn’t even glance at me once. Finally, we both finish. He leans back in his seat and sips his whisky, watching me for a second. “I’m going to ask you something,” he says. “If you lie to me, I’ll know.” “I wouldn’t lie to you,” I say. “Ethan, what’s going on? What happened?” “Did Richard Taylor send you here?” I sit back, stunned. “My father?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

He nods. “Answer the question, Aria.” “No,” I say softly. “I haven’t spoken with him in years.” He watches me for a second, his face tense, before finally relaxing a little bit. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “You’re telling the truth,” he says. “I swear. He didn’t send me here.” I shake my head. “I don’t want anything to do with him.” “He knows you’re with me,” Ethan says, and I feel a jolt of panic in my core. “How?” I ask softly. “He’s been watching me for a while now.” I narrow my eyes, confusion washing over me. “What are you talking about, Ethan?” “Your father is Richard Taylor, real estate magnate. And I’ve been working on a deal with him to buy one of his buildings for nearly four months now.” I suck in a breath, surprised as hell, but I shouldn’t be. This is just my luck. This is just how things work for me. My luck is horrible and never lasts no matter how much I think things are going to turn around. It’s not that impossible. My father is one of the

richest and most powerful men in the city, or at least he used to be. I’ve heard that he’s a shadow of his former self, riddled with debt and liens on his assets, but that wouldn’t stop him. Men like my father and Ethan run in the same circles. They do deals with each other all the time. I should have guessed that Ethan at least knew my father personally, or was possibly working directly with him. “He’s been watching me,” Ethan says softly. “Apparently he always does this. And when you threw your tantrum, I think he got pictures of you. And from there, he figured it all out.” “Shit,” I say softly. “Ethan. Shit. “I know.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Are you sure you’re not involved with him?” “Yes,” I say. “I swear. I hate that man.” “Good.” He sighs and closes his eyes before opening them and smiling slightly. I get a glimpse of the old Ethan in that moment and my heart swells. “I was worried.” “Why?” “Your father is currently blackmailing me with pictures of you. I was worried if he could pull off

something like that, then maybe he could pull off something like...” He trails off, shrugging. “Like planting me in your house,” I finish for him. “Exactly.” “He’s not a genius. He’s just a ruthless bastard.” “I’m beginning to see that.” He stands and walks over toward the bedroom window. “I’m in a tough spot, Aria. If I don’t give in to what he wants, he’ll release those photographs.” “So what? Let him. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I know that.” He looks back at me, a rueful smile on his face. “But the public won’t care. I’m in the middle of a high profile merger and things are dicey at best right now. Any whiff of failure and things can go belly up.” I stand and moved toward him. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I had no clue.” “People depend on me. A lot of people. They’re not just my employees. I’m responsible for their jobs, their livelihoods. I feed their children. I can’t just fail them.” “But if you give in to my father, what then?” “I don’t know. But he wants you back. That’s what

he told The Syndicate, at least.” I stop a few feet away from him, and I finally understand what he did for me last night. He refused to give me back to my father, saving me from more torture, but in doing so he defied the man with power to destroy him. More than that, he feels like he risked his entire company for me. He thought I might have been a plant by my father, he didn’t trust me at the time, but he did it anyway. I feel torn in half by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I’m incredibly happy that he was willing to stand up to my father for me. It says a lot about the bond that’s building between us, and I know for a fact that it’s real. He must feel the same way, or else he wouldn’t have stepped up the way that he did. But it also means that I’m a liability. I’m the reason he’s even in this mess. Without me, he’d be better off, and now he knows it. He can’t think about just me and him, he has to think about all of the people that depend on him, and it’s clearly tearing him apart. I’m a liability. I’m his Achilles heel, at least where my father’s concerned. If he goes down, it’s going to be because of me.

I hate that thought. It almost makes me want to gag and throw up. It send chills down my spine and lodges a huge rock in my gut. He looks away from me, back out the window. “So now you understand,” he says softly. “Your father is probably watching us right now. Or at least someone that works for your father is waiting for us to slip up so he can get more pictures.” “I should go back,” I say suddenly, blurting the words out before I can think about them. He whirls on me. “What?” “I should go back,” I say. “It’s the best solution. My father can’t keep me, so even if The Syndicate gives me back to him, I’ll just run away again. And right now, I’m a liability for you.” “No,” he says forcefully. He steps toward me and takes me by the shoulders. “Do you hear me, Aria? I’m never going to give you back to that man.” I bite my lip. “You can’t keep me from them if they want me,” I say. “They’ll come for me.” “Let them come,” he says fiercely. “You’re mine, Aria. Do you hear me? You’re mine. They can try to take you.” I stare into his gorgeous eyes and want to cry. For

the first time in my life, I feel like someone values me above other people, and it’s an intense and strange feeling. I don’t know what to say to him, but that doesn’t matter. Because he pulls me against him and kisses me deeply. I return the kiss with something like hunger, maybe something like madness. It’s a frenzy and a starving blind and dumb need, and I can’t hold it back. He crushes me in his arms, in his kiss, and I feel held, protected, valued. Slowly, he breaks the kiss off and steps away from me. “I need time to think,” he says. “I don’t know how I’m going to play this with your father.” “Whatever I can do to help,” I say. “Of course.” He grins at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve handled bullies before. I can handle your father.” I nod, convinced that’s true. He turns and walks past me and toward the door. I watch him go with something like admiration and something like horror. I’m afraid that if he leaves now, he’ll never come back. But I can’t call out for him. I have to let him go. He pauses and looks back at me. He smiles and

nods, and then leaves the room. I stand there, breathing in and out, and finally collapse onto the couch. So much happened so fast, and I’m still processing. I don’t know how we got to this point, and it is a point, but it’s one that I don’t entirely understand. Something is happening between us. It’s more than just him buying me and making me his pet. There’s a real connection, one strong enough that he’s willing to risk important things for me. But I can barely even handle that. I don’t know what to do from here. The only thing I can think to do is to turn on the television and try not to cry. And so that’s what I do.

23

ETHAN

A

nother morning spent distracted, trying to get work done, but only able to think about Aria. Fortunately, most of what needs to get finished can be delegated. I hate to do that, but I can’t imagine that I’ll be able to buckle down and get it all finished in time if I try to take it all on myself. I need to figure out this Richard Taylor issue. That’s the most important thing right now. If I don’t bend and give him what he wants, then he’ll destroy me, and all this work will be for nothing. But if I do that, it’ll mean giving up Aria and betraying her. I just can’t do that. I couldn’t handle it if she gave me up to my father, and I can’t imagine doing that to her. Even if she says she’s

strong enough, and even if she really is, it’s not right. I won’t do it. I won’t give in. I won’t fucking lose to this scumbag piece of shit. Before, I was willing to bend to him and to give in for the sake of the company, because I didn’t really know who he is. But now I do. After everything Aria told me about her father, I won’t let him win this, too. He’s a small, powerhungry little piece of garbage, and I won’t roll over for him. Just because he’s rich and used to be famous doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants. Someone has to stand up to him, and that someone has to be me. Too bad I don’t know how. I have nothing to fight him with. The only thing I have is Aria, but she’s not a tool to be used in this little war, despite what her father may think. She doesn’t deserve any of this. I surprised myself by the way I reacted to The Syndicate trying to take her away. I was in shock after finding out who her father is and part of me thought she might be a traitor. I thought she might have been a mole, planted in my house by Richard. I gave him too much credit, of course. Richard isn’t some grandmaster of chess, he’s just a bully with a large bank account.

But even despite my suspicions about Aria, I couldn’t let them have her. I couldn’t let them take her away and give her to Richard Taylor. I couldn’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it, but more than that, I want her. She’s mine. I opened up to her in ways I never expected, and I felt that returned by her. I felt her own pain and humiliations and failures, just like she felt mine, and we were connected. We still are connected, and the idea of letting The Syndicate break that connection drives me fucking insane. No, it just isn’t going to happen. She’s safe back at my house. I’ve already hired a small private security firm, and they’ll be guarding the house twenty-four seven for as long as this situation continues. The Syndicate won’t get anywhere near Aria unless I let them. And if I need more muscle, more guns, more men, I’ll get them. I’ll expend any amount of money I have to. But the issue of Richard is still outstanding. I pick up my phone and dial his private number, not really thinking about it. He answers on the third ring. “Ethan,” he says.

“Richard.” I try to keep the anger and disgust from my voice. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” “We should meet. And talk.” “You’re right. We should.” The bastard sounds cocky. I hate that. “You should know something,” I say softly. “You’re not going to get her back. No matter what.” “Oh, I doubt that’s the case,” he says. I have to restrain myself. I want to go off on him, but I know that won’t do anything. “Meet me at La Azteca tonight at five.” “I can do that.” “Good. See you then.” “And Ethan?” he says quickly before I hang up. I pause. “What?” “Be nice to her. She’s had a tough life, you know. She’s a junky bitch, after all.” Rage tears through me. I want to yell and scream and tear him to pieces, but instead I just calmly hang up the phone.

He’s trying to goad me. He knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t make it any less disgusting. And I’m no less pissed off. But that’s for tonight. I stand up and grab my jacket, putting it back on. For now, I’m going home to see Aria. I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Richard tonight, and I want to see her before anything goes down. I hurry home, a knot of worry in my stomach.

24

ARIA

I

’m surprised when Ethan brings my lunch instead of Jenkins, though I probably shouldn’t be.

He walks into the room and takes off his jacket. “You’re home early,” I say. “Being the boss has some perks.” “I’m sure it does.” He smiles and sets lunch out on the table. “At this point, I’ve given away most of my tasks to subordinates,” he says. “I have a capable staff. I’m a very good judge of character.” “I know you are.” I say. I sit down at the table and he sits across from me.

“All of this...” He pauses. “It’s weighing on me. I don’t trust myself right now.” “Why not?” I ask him. “It’s a critical time, and if I take too much on, I could make a mistake.” “That doesn’t sound like you.” “It’s not. None of this is like me.” He smirks and shrugs. “But it’s fun, at least.” I laugh. “It’s fun?” “Sure it is.” “I’m not sure I’d call any of this fun.” He cocks his head at me. “Are you sure? You seemed like you were having fun the other night.” I blush and look away. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.” “I was,” he says. “Maybe that’s why you can’t work.” “Maybe,” he says seriously. “I keep thinking about you, my little pet. I keep seeing you tied up to my bed... do you like your punishments?” he asks. “Yes,” I say softly. I can feel a flush in my body,

that familiar hum of desire starting to grow in my core. The tension lately has been overwhelming, and I’m surprised that I’m suddenly craving his touch in a way I never imagined. I thought I was too upset to feel this way, but clearly I was wrong. He leans forward over the table. “What do you like?” he asks. “What do you mean?” “When I touch you.” I bite my lip, blushing like crazy. It’s silly to blush and feel embarrassed, but I can’t help it. I’m not used to a man being this direct, especially a man like Ethan. “I don’t know,” I say. “Do you like it when I spank you?” “Yes,” I admit. “I didn’t think I would. But it’s...” “Hot,” he finishes for me. “Yes,” I say. “And it feels good. It’s strange.” “It’s not strange. Pleasure and pain. They’re not so different.” He stands and looks at me. “Are you still my pet?” “If you want me to be.”

“I do.” He walks around the table and takes my hand, helping me up. He takes my hips and pulls me against his body. He’s so large and muscular, he practically swallows me up. I love the feeling of him against me. I love knowing that he can break me, destroy me, throw me around easily if he wanted to. I love knowing he can dominate me. “Tell me what you want,” he says. “Punish me,” I whisper, surprising myself. “Good girl.” He steers me toward the bed then presses me against one of the posts. “Stay,” he orders, before leaving for the closet. He returns a minute later holding the familiar pieces of black silk. He walks slowly toward me and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, practically trying to leap out of my ribcage. “This will be very simple,” he says, stopping in front of me, his body against mine. He reaches around me and takes my wrists, crossing them behind the post. “I’m going to tie you here. And then I’m going to take what I want from you.” I nod once and feel him begin to bind my wrists together. When he’s finished, he binds my wrists around the pole. Satisfied, he steps back. “Test that,” he orders.

I move my wrists. I have good range of motion, but they’re still tightly bound. “Good,” I say. “Good,” he echoes, stepping toward me. He takes my hair in his fist and tips my head back. “Very, very good.” He kisses my neck before kissing my mouth, his tongue gently touching mine, his lips smooth, his taste perfect. I groan as his hands roam my body, feeling my breasts, lingering on my hips, brushing the small of my back. I can feel the heat and desire radiating off him in waves and I know I feel the same way, have the same feelings of desire coursing through me. I can already feel my pussy is dripping and my head is spinning, and I don’t want him to stop. He gently tugs my shorts down over my ass and I feel his palms press me against him harder. He kneads my ass and kisses my neck, and for a second I’m completely lost in this moment. I feel his right hand move around toward my pussy and I shiver. I squirm as he finds my clit, his experienced hands sliding down the front of my panties. He rubs me in soft circles, his lips still against my neck. I want to struggle, not because I want it to stop, but because I like being reminded that I can’t get away. I spread my legs wider and I feel him smile. “You

want this, don’t you?” he whispers. “Badly,” I admit. “Why?” he purrs. “You’re dripping wet, Aria.” “You make me feel this way.” “Way?” he asks again. He presses two fingers deep inside of me and I moan. “I don’t know,” I say. “Tell me why you want this so badly.” “I can’t think with you doing that,” I admit. He smirks and stops. I give a little whine and cock my head at him. “Now, tell me.” “Don’t stop,” I groan. “Answer me.” I look away, blushing. “Because I’ve never felt this good with someone before.” “That’s right,” he says and his fingers resume their work, making me groan and bite my lip. “Only I can make you feel this good. That’s why you’re mine. That’s why you don’t want to leave here.” “It’s true,” I groan. I don’t know why I’m admitting it. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I won’t give you away, my pet,” he says softly. “You know that, don’t you?” “Yes,” I gasp. He smirks and slowly drops to his knees. He pulls down my panties and spreads my legs wide, his hands on my ass as he buries his face in my pussy. I close my eyes as his tongue and mouth find my clit. He sucks and licks me, lapping my every inch, sucking on my juices, swallowing me like he’s dying of thirst. He sucks me and my knees start to shake, but he supports me with his arms, holding me up. I can barely think as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through me, and I don’t want him to ever stop. I’m shocked as I feel an orgasm building inside of me already. I want to squirm away, make him slow down, but I can’t move. He’s holding me there tightly, not giving me an inch, and I know he knows. I know he’s aware that I’m about to come. “Ethan,” I groan. “Not yet. Please. I’m so close.” His grip on my ass tightens and his tongue and mouth keep working my clit faster, sucking harder, and I can’t stop it. I can’t hold it back. The orgasm passes through me, making every inch of my body clench and twitch as I explode with pleasure.

He has to support me completely as I come, practically falling down, but he holds me there and doesn’t stop. It slowly crests and moves past, washing through me like a hurricane, leaving me clean and barren as he slowly pulls back, a grin on his face. “Good girl,” he says. I gasp in deep breaths. “Shit,” I say. “I wasn’t ready.” “That’s okay,” he says. “You’re not done.” I blink at him. “What?” “You think I’d let you off so easily?” He laughs and stands. He reaches around me and does something to the silk ties. I’m released and for a second, I take a step toward him, but he stops me. He reaches back and binds my hands again. I’m free of the post, but my wrists are still tied behind my body. He takes me over to the bed and gently pushes me forward, bending me over, my hands tied behind my back and my ass in the air. I look back over my shoulder as he undresses. I watch his muscular body slip out of his clothing, and finally he stands there behind me, cock hard as fuck, muscles ripped.

“See, now it’s my turn to have what I want,” he says, and then he spanks me. I gasp and bite my lip. “What are you going to do to me?” I ask him. “Whatever I want.” He spanks me again. “And you’re going to enjoy it. We both know you will.” “Shit,” I groan as he spanks me again. The lingering orgasm mixed with the pain gets my heart racing again, and I can feel that pulse of desire between my legs, the strobing need that builds inside of me. He gently teases my pussy with his fingers, being tender on my sensitive clit, and then spanks my ass again. I gasp at the sudden pain mingling with the pleasure in my mind, not sure how to differentiate between it all. He grins and does it again, alternating from my ass to my pussy and back again until my breath is coming in deep gasps and I know that I want it again. “Good girl,” he says finally, fingers inside of me, sliding in and out slowly, fucking me from behind. “You’re nice and slick again for me. Didn’t take long.” “You’re a bastard,” I say to him, smiling, and he grins back. “Good. I’m glad you think so.”

He slaps my ass again then stands behind me. I feel his thick cock against my aching pussy and I know what’s going to happen, but I can’t prepare myself for it. He slides himself deep inside of me. I gasp and moan as his thick cock fills my sensitive tight pussy. Pleasure and pain mingle, washing over me, but the pain is less this time. He slaps my ass, his cock buried deep inside of me, and then he grabs the tie between my wrists and holds it as he slowly thrusts into me. He pins me there, face down on the bed, hands behind my back. I can’t move an inch. He holds the tie that binds my wrists tightly in one hand, pulling me back against him as he thrusts into me, pushing himself deep inside of my pussy. “God, yes,” he groans. “Your pussy is so fucking tight and warm, you know that? I want to bury myself deep in this little cunt and taste your cum again.” “Oh god,” I moan. “Be nice. I don’t know if I can handle it.” “There’s nothing nice about me.” He sounds like an animal, filled with lust, as he begins to thrust harder. “And nothing gentle, either.”

He starts to fuck me, really fuck me, hips working hard, cock slapping into my pussy, and I can feel myself building into it again. I moan, head turned to catch glimpses of his rock hard body as his cock slams into me. He pulls me back harder, cock slamming into me, and I know he’s fucking me like an animal. There’s no mercy in him anymore, nothing tender or gentle. He wants to fuck me rough and deep and that’s what he’ll do. There’s no slowing down and I know it. I’m going to be taken and I fucking love it. I start to work my hips back against him, getting deeper into the moment as he rips into me. His grunts are loud and passionate, and I know he’s going to come inside of me, fill me with his heat, and I want it. I need it so fucking badly I can barely control myself at all. But I keep bucking back against him, sliding along his thick cock, marveling that he can even fit inside of me. And the pleasure is overwhelming. The way I’m bound there, unable to do anything but work that cock, makes me feel so fucking sexy and needed. I love that I’m his little pet, the woman he wants to fuck and be rough with. I love it, the way he handles me, gentle at first but pushing me up against my boundaries. My body is sweating and working in rhythm with

his, working faster and harder, getting closer. “Come in my pussy, Ethan,” I moan, not sure where that’s coming from. “Come inside of me, you fucking bastard.” “That’s right,” he says, slapping my ass with his free hand. “Go ahead and call me a bastard again, you fucking dirty slut. Do it.” “Fuck you, bastard,” I groan. He rips into me and I can feel another orgasm building inside of me. I can’t believe I’m going to come again, but I know there’s no stopping it. I struggle back against him and he pushes me down, tearing into my pussy, working me hard. “I’m going to fill you up, dirty fucking girl,” he says. “You want this fucking cum?” “Yes, Ethan,” I moan. “That’s right. You bad girl. You filthy fucking girl.” He fucks me deeper, rougher, slaps my ass, pulls my hair, and I’m almost there. I’m so close. He strokes into me, deep and rough smacks of his cock, and I know I can’t hold back anymore. He groans loudly, and I know he’s coming just as my orgasm crests and starts to wash over me again. I can feel his hot cum fill my little pussy, and it’s

ecstasy, something I can barely comprehend. We come together, bodies moving as one, sweating and working and writhing, and it’s all so much. Slowly we come down together. The orgasm passes into a dull buzz of pure bliss. He releases my wrists from their bond and then we collapse together on the bed, his arms wrapped around me. I love this. We say nothing. There’s nothing to say in this moment. All I need is his arms around me, his body against mine. We sweat together and are together, and that’s all I care about. Nothing is going to tear me from his arms, not if I can help it.

25

ETHAN

T

he shower water washes over me and I can still feel her, ringing all through my body. She’s just outside of the bathroom, still in her bed, waiting for me to come back out. I have to clean up before I go to this meeting with Richard, although all I want to do is lay in bed with her and forget about everything else. I finish showering and step out, towel around my waist. She smiles at me, wrapped in the sheets. “Clean?” she asks. “Clean,” I confirm. “I didn’t know you like to shower after sex.” “I don’t normally,” I admit. “I like still being able

to feel you. Is that strange?” She shakes her head. “No, not at all.” “Good. But I have to go to a meeting.” She looks disappointed. I hate disappointing her. “Really?” she asks. “Really.” I frown and glance down at the ground. “It’s with your father.” She goes very, very still suddenly. “Oh,” she says. “I didn’t think you were going to be involved with him.” “We still have this business deal. I have to work something out with him.” “Do you have any ideas?” I shake my head. “I’ll probably offer him good terms. Hopefully he accepts.” “What if he wants me back?” “I won’t do that.” “He might destroy you.” I nod once. “Yeah, he might.” “We need a plan. In case that happens.” “We don’t need anything.” I walk over and kiss her

gently on the lips. “I’ll take care of it.” “You’re not alone in this, Ethan. I’m just as responsible as you are.” “I don’t think so,” I say and walk over to my clothes. I start to get dressed as we talk. “But I am. I’m the one he’s after. If I left and went back to him, things might be easier.” “Maybe, or maybe not. We can’t know for sure.” “We still need a plan.” I sigh. “I know we do. I’m working on it.” She pauses for a second and watches as I get dressed. “How do you think he found out about The Syndicate?” she asks me suddenly. I shrug. “He’s probably involved with them.” “Okay,” she says. “But how did he figure out that I’m working for them? They don’t give out that kind of information.” “He has spies all over the place,” I muse. “Maybe he has one in The Syndicate.” “Maybe,” she says. “But what if it’s simpler than that?”

“Simple how?” I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I’m fascinated. Her face gets excited suddenly as I finish putting on my shirt. “He could be a regular there,” she says. “Maybe he asked the other girls about me. Some of them know me.” “I thought you were new to this,” I ask her skeptically. “Can’t be that many girls.” “The night of the auction I met maybe twenty different girls. Some of them know me. And before that, I met a few more, even made friends with one.” I narrow my eyes, starting to see where she’s going with this. “I had to sign something when I bought you,” I say. “Regulars do more than sign something,” she confirms. “What are you getting at?” “I think The Syndicate has information on him. And if we can get it, we can trade that information for what he has on you.” “Interesting,” I say and then sit down on the side of the bed. “How do you propose we get this from The Syndicate? They’re not exactly just going to

hand it over.” “No,” she says, nodding. “They won’t. But if you give me back to them, I can steal it.” “Absolutely not,” I say, standing up instantly. “No way am I giving you back to them.” “Think about it, Ethan. I can do it from the inside. I have at least one friend. And if you give them money, I bet I can make some more friends.” I frown at her. “I can’t risk this. How could you even find it?” “I couldn’t. But I’d get help.” “What if they just throw you into a hole and then hand you over to your father?” “They wouldn’t do that.” I groan, shaking my head. “No way,” I say. “It’s a good plan, Ethan.” “No,” I repeat. “I can’t do it.” She stands and walks over to me. She takes my hands between hers and looks at me. She seems so small, so insecure, and yet I sense a fountain of power deep inside of her. She’s radiating confidence, and it’s hard not to look at how

gorgeous she is. “Let me,” she says softly. “I can do this. You have to trust me. You can’t just keep me locked up in here forever.” I watch her, not sure what to say. I can’t put her in any kind of danger, but I know her idea isn’t bad. There are just too many unknowns, and I have no control over the outcome, and that terrifies me. “Ethan,” she says softly. “Let me do this.” I look away from her. “I can’t.” “You can. And I’m going to. Just don’t stop me.” I shake my head. “Please, Aria. Let me figure this out. Don’t go back to them.” She reaches up and touches my face then kisses me softly, standing on her toes. “I won’t leave you,” she says. “I’ll come back. And when I do, we’ll fix this.” I watch her, and I know it has to happen. Something in her face tells me that she’s determined to see this through whether I want her to or not. There’s no stopping her. And so I nod and kiss her hard, pulling her against me. When the kiss is done, I keep her in my arms.

“Be safe,” I say. “I will be. Don’t worry.” I have to be willing to lose some control. I have to trust her. Whatever’s happening between us is real, very real. And I can’t pretend that I don’t know what it is anymore. It’s love, real love, the kind that comes at you from out of nowhere and is so obvious in its purity that you almost can’t see it. There’s too much brightness there, and I looked away, but not anymore. I’m going to embrace it. I’m going to trust it. I’m going to trust her to come back to me, and if she can’t, I’m going to go get her. “I love you,” I say. “I love you too,” she whispers. I hold her tight while letting her go.

26

ARIA

T

hey meet me out in front of Ethan’s house. Jenkins forces me to stay inside in the foyer with my bags until the car pulls up and a large man in a black jacket approaches. Jenkins doesn’t say a word when I leave. I’m sure Jenkins is excited that I’m leaving, but I’m terrified. After we decided on the plan, I sent The Syndicate a message through my phone and told them that I was ready to come back. They responded right away, saying they’d send somebody as soon as possible. I kissed Ethan goodbye and he left for the meeting with my father. He’s not going to do anything at the meeting. Now the plan is to wait and see if this pans out. He’s

going to try and stall, but that’ll be it. It’s up to me now. I ride in the back of a large town car, my bags in the trunk, worried as all hell. The woman sitting up front next to the large man is the same woman that came to see Ethan. She doesn’t introduce herself. I can tell that they’re not happy to have me back, and that’s fine with me. I watch out the window, butterflies in my stomach, not sure what I’m going to do. When I joined The Syndicate and gave myself up to the profession, they took me into the mansion. That’s where the auction took place. I lived there for a few weeks, learning the ropes, though there wasn’t a whole lot of learning going on. Mostly, I met a bunch of girls and we gossiped and chatted. All of The Syndicate girls live in the mansion while they’re on assignment or waiting to go on assignment. We don’t get breaks or days off until our contract is over, and contracts are typically six months. Of course, I planned on skipping out on my contract after I got my big payday. That’s not uncommon. Now though, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how they’re going to treat me when I get

back there. I’m hoping that the girls I know are still there, or if maybe I can meet someone new that will be willing to help me. The mansion is a large building in the south part of the city. It looks like a normal city block, a group of row homes, but that’s just a façade. Inside, the mansion is actually one large building that encompasses the entire block, north and south. Most of the doors on the street level lead absolutely nowhere. The car parks in front of the main entrance, an unassuming looking brick house in the middle of the block. We get out and the driver gives me my bags. “You made the right choice,” the woman says to me as the driver gets back in the car and heads off. “I think so,” I say. “The Syndicate is pleased,” she replies, heading up the steps. I follow her, lugging my bags. “Really?” I ask. “Of course. We respect loyalty.” She doesn’t sound pleased, though, and she doesn’t look at me when she speaks. I have a bad feeling, but I block it out.

We head inside. The entrance foyer looks like a normal row home, but as soon as we go around the corner, it opens up into the magnificent building that is the mansion. It’s exactly as I remembered it. Plush, beautiful rugs, expensive art on the walls, high ceilings, impossibly beautiful. Everything is polished and in its right place. “Come,” the woman says, leading me down a few corridors. “You’ll stay with the girls until we figure out what to do with you.” “Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.” “Mhmmm,” she answers ignoring me again. The girls stay in what’s essentially a dormitory in the eastern part of the building. I’m shown to a room where I can unpack and get changed if I want. There’s a shower down the hall and a common room on the next floor down with a kitchen and some couches. That’s where most of the girls spend their time. I thank the woman and she leaves as fast as she can, almost as if I’m poisonous. The Syndicate doesn’t want me here. I can tell that about them, I’m just another pain in the ass, another problem to solve. The second they get the

opportunity, they’re going to turn me in to my father. Which is why I don’t plan on being here for very long. I quickly open my bag and get out the phone Ethan gave me. I send him a message, saying that I’m okay, and then I grab an envelope that I hid beneath my underwear. Inside the envelope is ten grand in hundred dollar bills. I slip it into the waistband of my jeans and cover it over with my shirt. I take a quick look in the mirror and then I head to the common room. I step into the main room and take a look around. Disappointment sinks into my stomach. I don’t recognize a single girl in there. People sit in small groups and talk, but I don’t know a single face. There are maybe eight girls in all scattered around. I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door just to have something to do. I grab a bottled water and open it, looking around. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t know anyone. I can probably just ask a random girl, hope she knows something, but that’s dangerous. If I ask the wrong girl and she turns me in, I’ll be finished. I don’t know what I’ll do then. This whole thing will be over, and I’ll be given back to my father.

A nervous energy rolls through me as I scan the room one more time. I sit down at the kitchen table and cross my legs, sipping the water and looking at my phone, trying to pretend like I’m busy, but inwardly I’m terrified. This could all be for nothing. I know that, deep in my gut, but I can’t let myself fall into that trap. It’s still early, I just got here. Other girls might show up. I have to hope. I sit there for an hour or so, fiddling with my phone. Nobody talks to me, which isn’t so surprising. Most girls in The Syndicate are pretty cliquey and tight knit groups tend to form. People sure do love their high school bullshit hierarchies, even when they’re not in high school. “Hey, I know you.” I look up suddenly, surprised. A blonde girl looks back at me, smiling. I’m so surprised that someone is actually talking to me, I forget to respond. “Lisa,” she says. “Remember? From the auction?” I pause and then my eyes go wide. “Lisa,” I say, laughing. “We spoke before.” “That’s right.” She smiles warmly and sits down next to me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” I say. “What about you? Who did you end up going home with?” She laughs. “Nobody, actually.” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. Lisa is gorgeous, way prettier than me. “Nobody?” “They didn’t buy me.” She shrugs. “No big deal.” “That’s crazy.” “Oh, it’s fine. I actually feel relieved, you know? I lucked into my current job.” “Current job?” “Sure.” She leans back and brushes her hair from her face. “They gave me an admin job. Been doing that ever since.” She goes on about how life is tough living here, but her room and board is free and it’s not so bad, but I barely hear her. I suddenly lost the ability to concentrate when she said the word “admin.” “Lisa,” I say, suddenly interrupting her but not caring. “I need your help.” She looks surprise. “Uh, okay,” she says. “Sorry,” I answer, talking fast. “I know I’m being rude. But I really need your help.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “What can I do?” “I need something, something you might know how to get for me, but it’s something that could get us both in trouble.” Her eyes narrow. “I don’t know where you can get drugs.” I pause. “No, no, not that,” I say. “Nothing like that. It’s information.” She softens a bit, but still looks confused. “What information can I get for you?” I lean toward her, glancing around. Nobody is listening or watching. I have to make my move. “I know The Syndicate keeps files on everyone that hires them. My father, he’s used them before, and he’s a bad man. I need his file.” She blinks. “I don’t know if I can do that.” “Please,” I say. “I have ten thousand dollars in cash on me. I’m willing to pay you more. A lot more.” “How?” she says, laughing. “That’s insane. This is insane.” “Look.” I take the envelope and show her quickly. Her eyes widen in shock. “It’s real,” I say. “Where did you get all that?”

“The man I was sold to. He’s helping me. Well, we’re helping each other. Doesn’t matter. But now I need you, and we’ll pay.” She looks at me like I’m an insane person. I stare at her, desperate. “Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’ll help you.” Relief tumbles over me like a wave. “Thank you,” I say. “Just let me get my phone and get changed. I’ve been in this all day. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Okay,” I say. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” “Of course.” She smiles, stands, and quickly walks away. I watch her go, feeling nervous but relieved for the first time since this all started. I don’t know what I’d do if she didn’t show up, but she did, and she’s willing to help. I sit there and two minutes turns into five minutes which turns into ten. Slowly, I start to look back over that conversation, and I realize something. She never asked how much we’d pay her. She never asked anything, in fact. She just said she’d help me and then quickly left the room. It doesn’t take you ten minutes to get changed and to grab

your phone. “Fuck,” I say softly to myself and stand. I realize my mistake, but it’s too late. Four men and the woman from earlier walk into the room. They instantly zero in on me, all their eyes on me. They walk in my direction and everyone is staring. I’m screwed. Lisa betrayed me, stabbed me in the back, but can I really blame her? I came on too strong, like a total crazy person. She probably thinks I’m some kind of police informant or something crazy like that. She probably thought she was doing the right thing. Maybe she was. Maybe I’m stupid for thinking I could pull this off. Well, clearly I am, because it’s not going to happen. I’m going to be given back to my father. I can say goodbye to the life I wanted. I’m going back to hell. “Come with me, Aria,” the woman says. She looks even more annoyed than she did before. “No,” I say. “I can’t go back to him.” She sighs. “Please. Just come. I promise you we aren’t giving you to your father.”

I pause then nod. What else can I do? The big men could just pick me up and carry me off if I refused. They lead me down a series of hallways until finally we stop outside a pair of ornate double doors. The woman steps up and opens them. “Go ahead,” she says, ushering me inside. She stops short of entering herself and slowly shuts the doors behind me. I walk into the room, looking around. It looks like a library or a study in some rich English person’s home. It’s beautiful, full of leather-bound books, and there’s a fire roaring at the far end in a large ornate fireplace. In front of the fire are two chairs, and sitting in one of the two chairs is a very small and very old woman. As I walk toward her, she holds up a hand. I pause and wait. Finally, she drops her hand, and I finish my approach. “Hello,” I say. “I, uh, was told to come here.” “My name is Lorraine,” she says. “I guess you could say that I’m the Madame around here.” My heart flutters in my chest. I’ve heard of this woman. She’s the head of The Syndicate, an old time mobster, a killer, a badass. Her white hair is pulled back in a thick braid that hangs loosely over

one shoulder. She wears a thick black cardigan and khaki pants with stylish shoes and beautiful jewelry. Frankly, she looks like a nice grandmother, but I know better than that. She’s a ruthless killer. “Sit down,” she says, more of an order than anything else. I sit in the chair next to her. She looks at me, a slight smile on her face. “I hear you’re looking for information,” she says. I sigh and look at the ground. “I’m sorry,” I say. “How much is Ethan willing to pay?” I pause and then look up at her. She smiles. “We’re not stupid, dear,” she says. “And we don’t like your father.” Hope rekindles in my chest. Hope and something related to hope, the belief in the possibility of a good future life with someone special. It’s a specific emotion, but it’s an important one. “Two million,” I say. Lorraine’s eyes sparkle. “Let’s have a conversation, dear.”

I turn toward her and think that maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to feel afraid ever again.

27

ETHAN

T

hree days pass after Aria returns to The Syndicate and I have my meeting with Richard. That meeting goes nowhere, as I suspected. He wants more concessions than I’m willing to give, but I promised him that I’d meet all of his demands, that I just need time. He bought that for whatever reason, and gave me three days. Three days to prepare. Three days without Aria. That’s how I find myself here, in an abandoned parking lot at three in the morning. There isn’t much to our plan, to be totally honest, but it has been hard. As part of the deal with The Syndicate, Aria had to live with them for these past few days to ensure that we wouldn’t back out. There’s no

chance of that, of course, since The Syndicate is our last hope, but they want to be thorough and I respect that. I shift nervously, standing under the lone spotlight. I can hear water dripping nearby and smell the rain from earlier in the night. I’m alone, very alone, although I shouldn’t be. The Syndicate is late. As I think back over the last few weeks, I can’t help but wonder how I got to this point. I went from buying a strange girl I barely knew and wanting to seduce her for a game, to needing to keep her. I’m willing to do anything for her now, and although that terrifies me, we both know why. I love her. I can’t help myself. We have so much in common, a shared history, and although our paths forked along the way and we went in different directions, I know I can help her. I can bring her back into the light. Maybe I can even save her. But this has to go well first. I can’t do anything if I lose my company and let Richard Taylor fucking destroy me. I hear a sound toward the lot’s entrance and I perk up, looking in that direction. There’s an old factory behind me, the brick smelling mildewy and damp, and I can’t see far enough to spot anything moving

toward me. There are no lights, which means there are no cars. I’m probably just imagining things. But as I stand there, I suddenly become aware of something. It’s a strange feeling in the back of my mind. I look up and when I look back down, I spot two men coming around the corner of the factory. I don’t recognize them, but they’re carrying large rifles. I step backwards and turn, but more men are coming from the other side. I want to run, but I have to control myself. I can’t look like a weak fool in this moment, so I stay where I am and face them. The man that approaches me is young, maybe in his early twenties, with a wicked scar down his face. “Ethan Locks?” he asks. I nod. “That’s me.” “We’re with The Syndicate. Lorraine will be here shortly.” “Thanks,” I say. The guy nods and then motions at his men. They fan out, disappearing into the night. The man stays there, standing near me. “We’re securing the area,” he says. I nod at him, understanding. I vaguely know who Lorraine is, though not exactly. She’s apparently an

old woman in charge of the Syndicate, which seems very odd, but everything lately seems fucking crazy anyway. I don’t know how an old woman runs the biggest prostitution ring in the city, but I’m just accepting these things as they happen. “Check that,” the guy says and nods at me. “They’re coming, Mr. Locks. Good luck.” He melts back toward the factory and disappears into the shadows before I can respond. I’m left standing there alone again, although I know there are at least twenty men standing around me, hidden in the shadows. I take a deep breath, calming my pulse, and concentrate on the task ahead. I can’t let my nerves get the best of me. Down the road, I spot a set of headlights slowly heading toward me. They make the turn into the parking lot and the car parks next to my own. It’s an old black town car from the nineties, though it looks like it’s in perfect condition. The back door opens and I expect an old woman, but instead it’s Aria. She’s dressed in a black shirt and jeans, and as soon as she spots me she runs toward me. “Ethan!” she says, throwing herself at me.

I laugh, catching her in a hug, pulling her small body against mine. I’m shocked all over again at how good it feels to be near her and how happy I am to see her. I didn’t know what I expected, but clearly nothing has changed. We went three days without seeing each other, and it feels like no time at all has passed. She pulls back, grinning. “You okay?” I ask her. “I’m great. They were so nice.” “Really?” I ask, skeptical. “Honestly. Lorraine is fantastic. Apparently they hate my father as much as we do.” “Guess that’s not too surprising,” I say, laughing. “Mr. Locks.” I look over suddenly toward the car. Standing next to it is an old woman with thick, long white hair pulled into a braid. Her face is lined with wrinkles and she’s holding a cane in one hand, but she’s immaculately dressed and her blue eyes are sharp. Aria pulls away from my embrace, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. “Lorraine, this is Ethan,” Aria says.

“Good to meet you,” I say. She hobbles over toward us and extends her hand. We shake and she smiles up at me. “So, are you ready to demolish your father?” Lorraine asks Aria. “Yes, ma’am.” “Good.” She looks at me. “I hear you’ve been good to my girl.” “I have been. Or I’ve tried to be.” “Keep being good. Did you bring my money?” I nod. “It’s where you instructed me to put it.” As soon as I got here, I left the money in two briefcases in two different parts of the factory. It was a pain in the ass, but it was what they instructed me to do. “Good. So my men have it already.” “I assume so.” She checks her watch. “And now it’s time for the last piece of the puzzle. Is he normally punctual?” she asks. “Yes,” I say. “Normally, he’s early.” “Let’s see, then.” Lorraine joins us, and we stand in

a line together, an old woman, Aria, and me. We must look like a strange little trio. We don’t have long to wait. True to form, Richard arrives on time, maybe even a little early. Two black SUVs pull into the lot and Richard climbs out of one followed by three large men, clearly his muscle. Three more men come from the other car, making six guys in total. Richard approaches with a huge grin on his face. The bastard probably thinks we’re outnumbered. He stares at Aria and I feel her stiffen beside me. His eyes drill into hers but she doesn’t look away, and for a second I’m proud of her. “Hello, daughter,” he says. She doesn’t respond. Just gazes back at him then spits onto the ground. Richard laughs then looks at me. “Well, Ethan,” he says, grinning at me. “You called this meeting. I assume you have a huge fucking bribe for me?” “Something like that,” I say. “Good. You’re in one shit position.” He looks at Lorraine and for a second, his grin falters. “And who is this old bat?” he asks.

“I’d be more polite, young man,” Lorraine says. “Why? Are you going to hit me with your cane?” Lorraine sighs. “You never know what’s good for you, Richard.” He frowns at that. “Who are you?” “I’m here to give you something.” She steps forward, bringing out a manila envelope from under her cardigan. She hobbles slowly toward him, holding the envelope out. He eyes her strangely. “The fuck is this?” he asks. “Your recipe for pie?” “Something like that,” she murmurs. “Take it, please. And look inside.” He takes the envelope from her and she hobbles back toward us, a smile on her face. She winks at me as Richard takes the photographs from inside of the envelope. His face drops instantly and he shoves the pictures back into the envelope. One of the guys standing right behind him snickers and laughs a little. “What the fuck is this?” Richard shouts, anger bubbling up in him. Lorraine slowly turns back toward him. “Be polite,

young man. Those are photographs.” “I saw that. Where the fuck did you get this? They’re fake.” Lorraine laughs. “They’re not fake. You know that. We have more where that came from, too. Video, if you like.” He’s speechless. I can feel Aria’s tension next to me, and I squeeze her hand. She looks up at me and forces herself to smile. “Fuck this,” Richard says. “I want my money, Ethan. Fuck this.” “We’re even now,” I say to him. “Do you get it? You’re going to sign the contract before last, the one that was a fair fucking deal. And then we’re done with this. You’ll leave Aria alone.” “Or what?” he says, anger bubbling over. “Calm down,” Lorraine says. “Or I’ll put a bullet in your head.” “Fuck you, old bitch!” he shouts. There’s a crack from behind us and a bullet smashes into the ground right in front of Richard. He shouts and jumps back, eyes wide. His goons all pull out weapons.

“I wouldn’t fire those, if I were you,” Lorraine calls out. “This place is surrounded. Boys?” Suddenly, lights flash on all around us, probably twenty glowing beacons all told. The looks on the faces of Richard’s men are fucking priceless as they slowly put their guns on the ground. The flashlights turn off, and the men disappear again. I step toward Richard. “Like I said, you’ll sign that contract, and you’ll leave Aria alone. Understood?” He gapes at me, shocked. I walk toward him, a wicked grin on my face. I’m relishing this moment, savoring the look on his face. He’s defeated and he knows it, but I need more. I want him to grovel. “Ethan,” Lorraine warns me. I stop in front of Richard. His eyes are wide with anger, and I can tell he’s on the verge of doing something stupid. “I get everything,” I say. “I win and you lose. And I get your daughter.” I grin at him. He swings, just like I wanted. His fist lashed out, clumsy and wide. I duck it, elbow him in the gut, and then bring my other fist up and clock his chin. He staggers back and his men have to grab him to

keep him standing. “Do as you’re told,” I say. “Or you’re finished.” Lorraine sighs. “Ethan, enough.” I nod and walk away, back to Aria. I take her hand and squeeze it and she laughs a little. “Asshole,” she whispers. Richard staggers to his feet, getting his balance again. “This isn’t over,” he calls out. “Yes, it is,” Lorraine says. “The Syndicate is done with you. Fuck up and we’ll destroy you. Do as you’re told, Richard. Don’t make me come out in the middle of the night again, please.” Richard is at a loss for words. He stares at the woman, finally comprehending who she is and what we’re doing here. He nods once. “Go to your car, go home, and be good.” Lorraine waves to him. Richard pauses then turns. The whole group of them gets back into their SUVs and we watch as they drive away. Lorraine sighs as they disappear around the bend. “Did you have to hit him?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Well, I can’t pretend like that wasn’t satisfying, but it’s late and I’m tired. Dear?” Aria steps toward her. “Yes?” “Do you want to stay with Mr. Locks here?” “Yes,” she says. “And Mr. Locks. Do you want Aria?” “Yes,” I say. “Absolutely.” “Good. Be nice to each other. Your contract with us is done, Aria. Good luck.” “Thank you.” She kisses Lorraine gently on the cheek. “I hope I never see you two ever again,” she says happily, then hobbles over to her car. She disappears into the back and then the car drives off. We stand there for a moment, Aria and I, alone in the lot. Lorraine’s men are gone too, I can sense them no longer staring at us. I step toward Aria, smiling. “What now?” I ask her. She shrugs. “I don’t know. We’re free.”

“We are.” “No more money. No more Syndicate. Just the two of us.” She smiles at me, a little uncertain. “Are you sure about this?” I grab her hips, pull her against me, and kiss her hard. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I melt into the kiss, hoping she understands that, and knowing she will eventually. I’m going to make a life with this woman. I’ll pay off her debts and make her my fucking wife one day, whether she knows it yet or not. That’s all that matters to me. It’ll be us two against the world. But hopefully not. Hopefully it’ll just be us two and nothing else, only joy.

28

ARIA ONE YEAR LATER

I

can hear the ocean just outside of the balcony doors. I stir in bed, taking a deep breath, and I smile.

Ethan is already up and outside. I climb out of bed and push aside the curtains. The view is astounding and amazes me every morning just as much as it did the first time. The beachfront town spreads out around us, with the ocean barely a quarter mile away. Sea birds cry out and I blink at the sun. “Morning,” Ethan says. “My beautiful wife.” I laugh and smile at him. “Morning yourself. Why’d you let me sleep so late?” “You looked too content. Couldn’t wake you.” I smile and walk over to him. Ethan is sitting at a

table eating a modest breakfast and wearing a white shirt open at the chest with white slacks. After everything with my father, we got married almost right away. Ethan said he didn’t want to wait, and I wasn’t going to argue. We eloped to France, and when I got pregnant four months later, we decided to stay. We left Jenkins behind, mostly because he hates me, and although I thought that might be tough for Ethan, he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. He’s so much more resourceful than I thought. Ethan works remotely now, and most of his duties have been taken over by his subordinates. He’s transitioning away from being the high-powered full-time CEO to being something else, something more domestic. I don’t have to worry about debt anymore. Ethan paid it off practically the night Lorraine destroyed my father. And my father never once bothered us, and even signed the contracts as he was told. Whatever was in that envelope scared him straight, and we never heard from him again. The Syndicate never bothered us again, either, though I wish I could see Lorraine. She was good to me when I was staying with them, and I even began to think of her as a friend.

Now though, we live far away in the south of France, and I’m so pregnant I can barely walk around. Ethan stands up and kisses my pregnant belly then kisses my lips. “Another perfect day,” he observes. “It’s always perfect here, isn’t it?” He shrugs. “I guess so. If you get tired of it being too perfect, we can leave at any time.” I laugh, shaking my head. I’m still not used to having unlimited money and time and freedom. It’s hard to really understand just how easily we can move around and do whatever we want. I feel so content, so surpassingly content. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life. I still feel like that awful junky girl that I used to be, but I’m slowly getting away from it. All because of him. We’re a family now, and he treats me like a queen. He spoils me, and I’m still his pet. We’ve been exploring all the different ways he can tie me up, or at least we were until I got too pregnant. Once I have this baby, we’ll go back to it. And I can’t freaking wait. “What do you want to do today?” he asks me.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that awful? We can do anything, and I never know what to do.” “Horrible problem to have.” He laughs and kisses me again. This is how life turned out for me. I don’t know how. Sometimes, it shocks me. But I’m Mrs. Locks, wife of the rich and handsome Ethan Locks, and still his little pet. And soon, we’ll be a bigger family. I’ll have my baby and maybe another, and maybe another. We’ll live wherever we want, do whatever we want, and I know it’ll be perfect. There are bad days ahead, of course. Nothing is ever perfect for long. But the good days will always outnumber the bad ones, because I’ll have Ethan with me. He’ll protect me. He’ll bring me through anything. I’m still that junky girl. But maybe soon, I won’t be anymore. All because of him. We’re a family. And I couldn’t be happier. I’ll keep following him forever, as long as he’ll have me, until I can’t follow him any more.

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