And I refuse to appear ungrateful. He’s gone through the trouble to rent a studio for me. I won’t ruin the moment.
Besides, I want to live in the fantasy.
Before I can reply, my cell goes off in my pocket.
“Sorry,” I tell Zander, fishing it out, my fingers fumbling with the tight jeans.
Zander’s low, rough chuckle makes my cheeks heat. How does he do this to me? All that warmth leaves me in a sharp wave as I check the screen, my blood running cold.
Seeing the look on my face, Zander asks, “Who is it?” I hear his words, but I don’t want to answer. He moves closer to me, invading my space. I feel caught between the two of them. Caught between my past and what could be. It’s falling away from me, slipping past my fingertips as the phone rings again in my hand and Zander leans forward.
“Danny,” I whisper even though me responding at this point isn’t necessary, Zander can see for himself.
“Answer it,” Zander says firmly.
“But-” I protest, not wanting this to happen. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.
“Answer it.” His words are like stone, hardened by his resolve.
Dread pressing down on my chest, I tap the answer button and put it on speaker.
“Hello?” I ask weakly, although I’m staring at Zander. His eyes aren’t on me; his focus is on Danny. I’m lost in the battle between the two of them, back to being nothing but a pawn.
“Where are you?” Danny asks coldly.
I swallow back a nervous lump in my throat. “I’m at home,” I answer without thinking, my voice devoid of life.
“Don’t lie to me.”
I clear my throat and straighten my back. I can’t hide from him, or my past. “I’m out.” He doesn’t own me. He’s not my Master. No one is.
“You’re with him,” Danny says matter-of-factly. “And you must really think I’m a fucking idiot if you think I think otherwise.”
I don’t bother arguing.
“I need you to leave him now,” Danny tells me firmly, in a voice I recognize all too well. One that makes me want to obey. A voice that made me obey once upon a time. “Right now. You’re no longer his property.”
My mouth is dry as I reply, “Danny, I-” Deep down inside of me, I feel the need to tell him no, but as the word climbs up my throat, it’s as if I’m being strangled. The word refuses to leave my lips, to be heard by the man who saved me, by the man who beat me. I’m at war with myself and stuck in the middle of a battle between two men.
“I said leave!” Danny screams on the other end of the line, the dark side of him he showed me in the alley coming to the surface. “Or you’re as good as fucking dead!”
His jaw clenched tightly, Zander snatches the phone out of my hand, leaving my body trembling on its own.
“Brooks,” Zander growls, his voice dropping so low that my skin pricks with more fear than I thought possible at the sound. “You ever threaten Arianna again; it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do. She’s not going anywhere. She’s mine. And you’re going to pay me the money you owe me. Every. Fucking. Penny. Or you’re going to wish I would’ve killed you back at your office.”
Zander hangs up the phone, his eyes blazing with murderous rage. “You’ll never speak to him again. He isn’t going to touch you.”
I don’t say a word as a dozen different emotions course through my body. The threat is very real. My body sways as the shock of what’s transpired hits me. You’re as good as fucking dead. Over and over his words repeat in my head.
“You’re never going back to him,” Zander tells me firmly. “Ever.”
“What’s going to happen?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m going to make sure he pays,” Zander practically growls, tossing the phone onto the end table. It takes him a moment for him to look at me, and when he does his demeanor changes. “You’re safe.”
He reaches out to me, gripping both of my shoulders and lowering his eyes to mine. “Look at me, sweetheart.” I instantly obey him, but I question my instincts. “You’re alright, and everything is going to be alright.” His words are like a soothing balm, but the wound too deep.
The only thing I’m truly aware of is that nothing is alright.
Chapter 25
Zander
There’s a gentle breeze outside; it blows the light dusting of snow as it falls, twirling before coating the hard ground. It’s April and the cold should be moving along, winter done and over, but the chill has lasted longer than it should. I rest my hand against the window, it’s cold as ice against my heated body.
He’s done.
They’re the words I texted Charles. It’s long past due for Brooks to be put in his place. Come Monday, there will be nothing left of him.
I turn, looking over my shoulder at Arianna as she wraps her arms around her knees. She’s staring into the fire, listening to the crackling as the billows of soft grey smoke spill from between the split logs.
She hasn’t been the same. I hate how much control he has over her. How weak he’s made her. She keeps saying he saved her, but she has no idea how wrong she is.
“Sweetheart,” I call out to her and she lifts her head from resting on her knees and stares back at me with the desire to be commanded in her eyes. She’s lost and scared, just like she was before Brooks got his hands on her. He kept her that way, molded her to believe something else. To believe she was better when he only made her suffer that much more.
I’m going to fix her. It’s the only thing I give a damn about anymore.
“I want you to come here,” I tell her as I walk to the edge of the rug. She’s still on her ass, curled beneath the heat of the fire, but she makes a move to come to me. She nearly crawls. For the split second that she’s on all fours, I want her to. The idea of her crawling the few feet and waiting on her knees to please me makes my dick twitch with need. Soon. I’m ready to give in, but only once she fully submits. And that starts tonight.
She slowly rises and I can see in her eyes that she questions if she should have crawled to me. If she wanted to, she should have. It’s as simple as that. She’ll learn. I’ll learn with her. And together we’ll enjoy that depraved darkness we both desire.
“Do you want me?” I ask her. Her eyes spark with fear, the green flecks mixing with a light gold and shining back with panic.
“I… Yes… I-” she doesn’t answer with confidence. Her eyes look down at the plush rug beneath her bare feet.
“You need to know what you want, sweetheart. If you can tell me, I’ll give it to you.”
“But for how long?” she finally asks the question that’s been holding her back. My lips turn up into that smile, the one I love. The one that reflects the happiness she gives me. I brush the stray hairs from her face with the back of my knuckles and lean forward, my hand cupping her chin.
I whisper, my lips nearly touching hers. “However long you’ll let me have you.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she tells me with her eyes open, but there’s a pain in her voice caused by her confession. Our hot breath mingles as she says, “You make me weak.”