We walk through the entrance, hand in hand, a world’s difference from the way we entered the last time we were here. Flashes go off around us, paparazzi yelling out questions that I have to actively work to ignore. I squint my eyes against the flashing lights and writhing bodies, as we work our way through the crowd toward the upper level. On our way up the steps, one of the security guards, working the lower level, pulls Baz aside and speaks in hushed tones. Baz glances at me. Something in his eyes doesn’t sit right with me, as he nods at the muscled man and moves past him back to my side.
“I need you to stay up here. I have a few things I need to do before we can leave,” he says, as he opens the door for me. I step over the threshold and pause, shooting him a questioning look.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not going anywhere. There’s something I need to handle down on the floor.”
“Well, let me come with you.”
“Was that an option? Sit the fuck down.” I jerk back in surprise at his tone. He doesn’t apologize, just slams the door on me, leaving me inside the upper level by myself. I glance around, taking in the room. It looks the same as it did the last time I was here. My gaze shifts toward the window and heats floods my body when I remember the way Baz fucked me there.
I clear my throat, shaking it off. The last thing I need to do is to be thinking about Baz in that light when he just acted like a complete asshole. I try to sit around for as long as I can, but eventually, I walk around, boredom killing me. I walk to the blacked-out glass and look down, shock firing through my system when I see, as clear as day, in the corner, Baz talking to someone with his arm slung around a woman’s shoulders.
I see red.
They shift during their conversation, and I can clearly see who it is. It’s Zach. Why is Zach here, and why is Baz talking to him so casually? I thought he hated them.
Or maybe that’s just what he wants me to believe.
Betrayal courses through me as I watch them. My eyes narrow on the woman, especially. With a fire roaring through my veins, I stomp to my purse, digging out my phone, and dial Jack.
“What don’t you understand about deleting my number, Mackenzie? Christ.”
“Would you knock it off with the number deleting already, Jack. He’s not going to hurt you. I won’t let him. Now, me on the other hand, I need some form of protection here. I don’t trust Baz or his motives. He’s hiding something.”
“What happened?” he asks, his voice suddenly sounding fearful.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just…I need something. Anything.”
Jack releases a long-drawn-out sigh, and I know I’m working his last nerve. “This is the last time, you understand me? I’ll be there in a few days, and if you can’t find a way to sneak out and meet me, tough luck.”
“I’ll find a way.”
I let the anger that I’m feeling fester. I let it build until I’m on the verge of exploding. From my vantage point, Baz is down there “handling something” for close to thirty minutes, while I am hidden away up here. Baz isn’t just talking with Zach anymore. He had a gaggle of women surrounding him, and even though I can’t hear him or see his facial expressions, I can imagine what is happening down there just fine.
I thought we had an agreement. I’m not going to let him touch me if he is fucking every woman he encounters. Maybe my freedom isn’t that important to me after all? If it means dealing with this shit, I’m not sure I can do it. I thought I could handle this, but the way I’m feeling inside at this moment? The rage inside me is telling a different story. I feel like a scorned lover as I sit up here, waiting for him to come back.
Stewing on that anger, I formulate a plan. In just a few days, Jack will be here. I’ll need to find a way to get away from Baz, which is difficult when I’m staying at his resort, which I now know is guarded like Fort Knox. I need an excuse, something to buy myself time. My thoughts are cut short when the door opens, and Baz heads inside. He doesn’t look at me and doesn’t offer me any kind of apology, and that only fuels the rage that’s filling every orifice of my body. He has to know I would’ve seen what he was doing from up here.
“Handle your business?” I taunt, glaring at the back of his head.
He pours himself a drink. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Oh, I’m sure you did. I didn’t realize when it came to matters of your dick that that’s what you held as the utmost importance.” I shoot up from the chaise, glaring daggers at him. “You can at least show me a shred of respect here, Sebastian. Bringing me here so you can flaunt these other women and get your dick wet is tacky.”
Baz freezes with his tumbler halfway to his lips. “You think I owe you respect, Mackenzie?” His tone is cold, and it has a pit settling in my stomach.
“You know you do.”
“I don’t owe you a goddamn thing, understand me? You came to me. Wagered your body for your freedom. This is the fucking price.” He all but spits, shocking me. Gone is the Baz from earlier, the guy who took me to the Hollywood sign and wrung orgasms out of me with his mouth. In his place is this man. It’s Sebastian. The one who looks so detached, like he’d rather be anywhere else than here in this room with me.
“We agreed. If I did this, you wouldn’t be fucking half the world.”
Baz grips the back of his neck, rubbing there like this conversation is frustrating him. “You think you’re so special, Mackenzie? Your pussy isn’t all that, so stop treating it like it is. I’m fucking you because I can. Because I want to. I don’t need to do anything. I’m not the one who needs help. You do. You’re just like the rest of them—a leech, crawling back to me, expecting me to fix your problems.”
That was mean.
That was purposely hurtful, and I can’t stop the way my chest quakes with emotion. I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the urge to cry from the strikes his words have had on my body. There’s a shooting pain in my chest that’s making it impossible to drag in a single breath.
“If you’re fucking anyone else, I’m gone.” My voice remains even, despite the wrecked way I’m feeling inside. He pushes up from the bar and stalks toward me. He chugs the rest of his glass and stops in front of me, staring down at me with a disdain that has me wanting to curl in on myself.
“I’m not fucking anyone else—as much as I’d like to. I’d rather fuck anyone but you. But you’ll have to do, won’t you?”
I can’t contain the tremble of my bottom lip at that one. That one hurt more than the last. I feel the harshness grate across my skin, shattering my heart. Feelings of not being enough flood me, just as they have my entire life. I wasn’t enough for my parents. I wasn’t enough for Madison. And I’m still not enough for Baz.
My arm swings out with a mind of its own, and he catches it in the nick of time, squeezing my wrist in a tight grip, just before my hand connects with his cheek. He glares down at me.
“Watch it, Dirty Girl. I’ll only let that slide once.”
“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” I hiss, yanking my wrist out of his hold.
“Already there, baby.”