“That wasn’t what I meant. I know it’s not a fucking competition. Hell, Blake. Don’t you get it?” I stood up. “I need some air.”
He followed me out. Frustration with Blake’s inability to let me in fueled me along. I couldn’t stop thinking of that man who’d cornered Blake. His rigid, unsettling body language pestered me like a thorn digging into my skin.
33
* * *
BLAKE
I’D BEEN ATTENDING THE masked ball at Annerley Castle for eight years, and I’d never seen Dylan Fox there before. Even with the passing of time, those beady, perpetually sniggering eyes still made my skin crawl.
Penelope was right: one couldn’t escape one’s past. The fact that her mother was a junkie hadn’t changed the way I felt for Penelope. In many ways, Penelope’s shame kept my shame company. And the more naked her soul, the more attached I became.
I followed Penelope out, and seeing her clutching her arms, I removed my jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
“Penelope, let’s do this some other time. You’ll be the first to know.”
She turned around, and her eyes looked so large under the moonlight that I knew I couldn’t hide anything from her. “The first to know about your past?” Her lips parted. “Is this real?”
I took her into my arms and drew energy from her heartbeat against my ribcage. “It’s real for me.”
“And it’s real for me. I’m in love with you, Blake.” Her trembling voice echoed through my body.
An aching pause followed. I’d never uttered that foreign word to anyone. Ever. And no one, not even my mother, had ever said that word to me. I couldn’t hold that against her though—my mother was that riddled with emotional pain—her heart was probably buried in ice.
Penelope left my arms and stared up at me.
Expectation pierced the air.
If aching for her was love, then I loved her, all right. I grappled with that, wondering if it was my cock, my heart, or even my soul that ached for her.
Maybe all three.
“Have I frightened you?” she asked.
I shook my head and held her close. I kissed her tenderly. Her lips, cool from the night air, tasted like pure honey. It was a new flavor. Normally, her lips were musky like her cunt after I’d ravaged her.
“Why don’t we go inside?” I asked with the brightest smile I’d worn all night. For some reason, I felt light. I’d almost forgotten about Dylan Fox.
Penelope agreed and took my hand. “Can you at least call me Penny?”
I turned to look at her. “I love the way ‘Penelope’ dances on my tongue. But Penny it is.” I brushed her cheek.
She smiled gently.
“I wonder what happened to Lilly and James?”
“Knowing James, they’re in the Dark Room.”
“Is he sleazy?”
I chose my words carefully. “James likes experimenting. But he’s honest and a good person, I believe. He wouldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to do.”
“Lilly’s impressionable. I hope he’s not into orgies,” she said.
“They’re both grown-ups, Penny.”
We were just about to enter the ball when she said, “I think I prefer Penelope.” She stopped walking. “But only from you.”
“Good. I prefer it too.”
We shared a smile, and spying a passing waiter, I grabbed two glasses of champagne.
As bubbles chased away the bitterness of seeing Dylan Fox earlier, he entered my space again. Before I could even process his ugly presence, a girl came over and hugged me.
“Oh, Blake. It’s you. Why didn’t you call me like you promised?”
I stared at the young girl, who looked familiar. She held a stick mask, which she removed from her face. I instantly recognized Tatiana from the photos Barnes had shown me.
Maintaining a cool facade, I replied, “I don’t know you.”
“Yes, you do. We met at the Cherry Orchard. Three years ago.”
I looked at Dylan Fox, who’d just taken photos of Tatiana embracing me with his phone.
Penelope, meanwhile, stood by and watched. Her attention flitted from me to the young girl, who I knew was only seventeen. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asked.
“I don’t know this girl.”
I took Penelope’s hand gently and led her away.
“Ah, ah… not so quickly, Sinclair.” Dylan looked Penelope up and down, wearing a sleazy smirk. “You’re very pretty.”
“Fuck off, Dylan.” I clenched my fists.
“We have to talk. Call me tomorrow.” He handed me a card. “This is not going away. Tatiana and you. Three years ago.” He arched an eyebrow.
I looked at Penelope. “We have to leave. Now.”
Her brow crumpled. “Who’s that young girl? Is that right… you were with her at the Cherry Orchard three years ago?”
“No. It’s fucking bullshit.”
“What’s going on?” Penelope demanded.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“He mentioned the Cherry Orchard. You were there that night. Are you into buying virgins? Underage ones?”
“I’m not, Penelope. I’m being set up.”
I held onto her. I wasn’t going to let her run, even though I felt her body tighten against mine as she followed along.
* * *
PENELOPE SAT IN THE armchair in my bedroom, watching me pace about liked a trapped tiger. “I’ve never met that girl.”
I told Penelope all about Barnes and how I’d been approached to protect Tatiana from Fox. “Fox is setting me up,” I concluded.
“So you keep saying. What’s his connection to you?”
“We grew up together. He tried to kill Sir William, his father, and I ended up saving the man. Twice. Dylan’s father left me everything and wrote Dylan out of the will. There were court hearings. It was a fucking circus. But Sir William had an ironclad clause, making the will uncontestable. He had evidence that Dylan had tried to murder him.”
“But how?”
“The cook said it was poisonous mushrooms. He’d seen Dylan sneaking into the kitchen.”
“Then why didn’t he stop Sir William from eating them?”
“Because Dylan strangled the cook.”
Penelope grimaced. “I take it the cook survived.”
I nodded. I was the one who felt the breath under his nose.
“You mentioned Dylan tried to kill his father twice.”
“The second time was opportunistic, given that Sir William was choking on a chicken bone. Luckily, I’d entered the room when I did. I found him frothing at the mouth while his son watched on.”
“How was he saved from eating the mushrooms?” Penelope asked.
“The cook revived in time to warn me. And just as Sir William held the fork to his mouth, I burst in to warn him.”
“Where was your mother in all of this?”
“She was his personal maid. They were very close.”
“In that way?”