“I’m not a dog.”
“To him, you are.”
She shook her head as she sighed loudly. “I know I pissed him off—”
“Just leave it alone.”
She turned quiet and swallowed the response sitting in her throat. “I’ll probably never be near him again, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You will on Saturday. Don’t embarrass me again.”
“Embarrass you?” Her head snapped back in my direction. “I was just trying—”
“I know what you were trying to do. But as you can see, that got you nowhere. Just leave it alone.”
She studied me. “You’re mad at me.”
“Yes.” I continued to avoid her gaze.
“Why?”
“Because you were fucking stupid. That’s why.” I turned to look at her, so she could see just how furious her little move made me. “He has bent for me many times, and the last thing you should do is get in his face after what you did.”
“Wow.” She shook her head. “He should be grateful I’m even thanking him given all the shit he does in that godforsaken camp. Let’s not rewrite history here. He captured me, and I escaped—just as he would escape if this were flipped around—”
“This conversation is over.” I looked ahead and gripped the reins in my hand. There was no point in discussing my brother when there was nothing we could do about it. We’d established the unbearable moral dilemma I had to suffer. It didn’t need further debate.
She watched the scenery around her, letting the conversation die. But minutes later, she addressed it again. “Wait…what do you mean, I’ll see him on Saturday?”
“He’s having an event. I’m bringing you.”
“An event?”
“A party.”
“And he’s fine with that?”
“He was when I talked to him about it…before you pulled your little stunt.”
It was hard for her to swallow her retort, but she managed it by clenching her jaw. “I don’t even want to go, but I know she’ll be there.”
“That’s why I wanted to bring you.” I hated get-togethers and conversations. It was all just a bunch of bullshit, rich people talking about how rich they were. Fender had a god complex, so he enjoyed flaunting his wealth and success, like it was a big fuck-you to our father…who’d been dead for nearly ten years at this point. “So, I suggest you swallow your pride and do as he asked because you’ll never see Melanie without him.”
She dozed off on the drive.
I listened to the radio as I drove down the country roads toward Paris, the occasional headlights coming at me from a passing car in the other direction. With one hand on the wheel, I counted down the time until we arrived at my apartment, where this long day could finally conclude.
I used to spend my time in solitude, enjoying my cabin at the camp alone, having a lover in Paris who was only there in the evenings and gone in the morning. The rest of my time was spent with my laptop, in front of the TV, or working.
But now, Raven was with me every single day.
When she worked in the clearing, I didn’t have her around, but that time alone stopped feeling like a respite from her company. Her presence in the cabin didn’t feel suffocating. And when we arrived at my apartment, I knew she would sleep with me tonight, even if we wouldn’t have sex beforehand.
That was our life now.
Even though I was still angry with her after what happened with Fender, that anger didn’t change my feelings. When someone pissed me off, our interaction was usually over for good. If a woman said the wrong thing, she was no longer my lover. But no matter what Raven did…nothing changed.
We arrived in Paris hours later, driving through the streets that were still busy despite the hour, and passed the lit-up tower before I pulled into the park and slowed down in front of my apartment. I hit the button to open the gate and then the garage and pulled into the driveway.
She woke up when the car came to a stop. “Are we here?”
I hit the clicker, and the garage door closed behind us. “Yes.”
“Oh, thank god…” She stretched in the seat with her arms behind her head, making a loud yawn. “I have to pee. And I just fucking hate that place.” She opened the door and ran her fingers through her hair as she moved to the elevator.
I joined her in the elevator, and we rose to the entry level.
Her eyes were heavy like she was still half asleep.
I leaned against the wall and watched her.
She sighed when the doors opened, and she went first, in a hurry. “Gotta pee…gotta pee.” She went into the nearest bathroom and disappeared.
I made my way into the parlor and saw that it was meticulously clean because Miranda had taken care of it once we’d left. Groceries were in the fridge, clean linens were on the bed, and fresh vases of flowers had been placed everywhere…because she thought my guest would enjoy them.
I went upstairs and rinsed my face and got ready for bed.
I got under the sheets and plugged in my phone so it would charge, the bedroom door open because I assumed Raven would join me.
Minutes later, she did. She was in just her black thong with her hair up because she’d washed her face over the sink. She went to her side of the bed and pulled back the covers, getting in beside me, turning over to face me, and closed her eyes. She didn’t cuddle with me, like she was too tired and just wanted to go to sleep.
My hand moved behind my head as I turned to study her face, to watch her sleep.
She drifted off instantly.
I was tired, but I watched her anyway, thinking about one of my conversations with Fender. I’d asked if I could buy her freedom, and he said no. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, and I didn’t think I ever would.
Twenty-One
Old Scars
I walked downstairs and found her on the couch, reading a book, fully dressed for the day, even though we had no plans. With her legs crossed, she absentmindedly reached for her coffee and brought it to her lips for a sip. She was in a green sundress, her full lips vibrant with a shade of lipstick, and the color over her eyes complemented the colors she wore.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up at me, seeing me in nothing but my sweatpants. A night of sleep had seemed to wash away her anger because she looked at me with subtle softness. “Morning.”
I nodded then went into the kitchen to pour myself a mug of coffee. I took it black, while she drank hers with a gallon of milk. I grabbed a banana off the counter and stripped it so I could eat it in a couple bites. I usually went for a run every morning, but I was too tired for that today.
She closed her book then joined me in the kitchen. Whenever we were in Paris, she looked like a completely different person in her dresses with her hair done. She behaved differently too, a lot more relaxed, and the closer we came to returning to the camp, she reverted to her withdrawn existence. “Do you have plans today?”
“I have to work this evening.”
“So, you’re free during the day?”
I already knew what she wanted. “We can’t go anywhere today.”